KEEPING COMPANY WITH CHAMELEONS an erotic short story © Saskia Walker

Originally published By Virgin Black Lace in Wicked Words 5, 2001 and reprinted 2004.
Edited by Kerri Sharp and published here with kind permission.

Keeping Company with Chameleons

Luba was a chameleon, moving from surface to surface, implicitly. Then Luba went deep and still wanted to know how far it was possible to go, pushing back the surface of things with a scarlet-lacquered talon and a wicked smile. Luba was a diva, a totally deviant diva, and Luba invited me to accompany her into her arena of sexual exploration.

But let me start at the beginning, because it was my involvement with Adam that began the rather surreal chain of events that led me to Luba, and beyond.

I had recently moved to a converted apartment block on the north-west side of the City. I fell in love with its elegant Edwardian manor-house facade and was thrilled to find that one conversion still remained on the market. Adam lived opposite me and we first caught sight of each other by the row of numbered post boxes in the ornate hallway. He was dark and lean with an angular face and hawklike eyes. He wore well-cut suits in dark colours, covered over with a charcoal raincoat that swung out behind him as he ran nimbly down the stairs in the mornings. There was an elegant nonchalance about him that attracted me immensely.

He caught me looking at his reflection in the huge mirror over the post boxes, and smiled. I was embarrassed to be caught observing him so intently, but I managed to smile back. I wanted to know more, and it was in my nature to be quietly determined about such things.

We began exchanging pleasantries. Within another week I had discovered that he was a broker in the City and he had learned that I was a press officer for a fashion house in the West End. He seemed interested, and so was I. I started looking out for him, targeting times when I knew he was around, anticipation racing in on me when he responded in kind. The night I saw Luba emerging from his apartment my anticipation tripped up and paused.

She was glamorous and outrageous. Dressed in sleek black from head to toe, slim and elegant, rich auburn hair brushed her shoulders in a chic bob. She was so striking; smoky eyes and ruby lips emphasised her diva looks and her confrontational attitude. I couldn’t help staring; she was pure elegance laced with sinuous sex appeal. She looked me up and down and smiled to herself.

‘Hello there...’ she drawled, as she passed me by. I managed to utter an appropriate acknowledgement in return, mesmerised by her glamour and the trail of Chanel that held me in her wake. My eyes followed her glossy thigh-high boots criss-crossing the wide landing to the stairway. She pulled her glove a little higher on the arm, before resting her fingertips lightly on the banister. She began her slow descent of the stairs with a smooth sway of her hips. As she turned the corner of the stairway she glanced back and smiled again when she saw that I was still watching her.

Perhaps Adam had told her about the woman across the hallway who had the hots for him. I felt my skin burning up. I should have known he would have a gorgeous woman stashed away somewhere. I fumbled with my keys and slunk inside my sanctuary, poured myself a glass of wine and told myself to forget him. Within a week, we were lovers.

That Friday night Adam invited me in for a drink. The chit-chat lasted through two glasses - during which time I decided he was a bit off-kilter but very attractive - and then he cut to the chase.

‘Is it natural?’ he asked, nodding at my hair, in an instant levelling the conversation off on a personal level. I realised my fingers were twined in my hair, which fell loose and unruly about my shoulders.

‘Yes, although my parents are both blonde, and they claim they have no idea where I came from.’ I smiled.

‘Red hair is very special,’ he said, suddenly very serious. ‘The genes have to be present on both sides, but they are sensitive and very easily overpowered by others.’ He arched one eyebrow at me, suggestively. I looked down at my glass, remembering the auburn-haired woman on the stairs. I didn’t want to think about her and yet I was strangely curious about her, remembering the way she had looked at me. He was probably obsessed with redheads, he was involved with one of the most stunning redheads I had ever seen. At least, I assumed he was.

He got up from his chair and moved to stand behind the chaise-longue where I sat. His eyes had that glimmer that betrayed his intent. I felt a tightness in my breathing in response to the knowledge that this was going to go exactly where I wanted it to. He leaned over my shoulder

‘May I?’ he whispered, his hands already resting against my hair. I nodded. His hands moved over its surface. ‘You are a very beautiful woman,’ he whispered, as his hands outlined smooth strokes from my shoulders down to my breasts, and then lower. ‘I have never seen eyes quite so much like cats eyes, they are truly tawny.’ His fingers moved assuredly, stroking me. I stretched back in the chair; he bent down as I leaned back into him. The rich smell of sandalwood and his musk raced through my veins. My body was awash with pulsing waves of need. My breasts felt full and hot; I was smouldering. He moved round to pull me closer to him, and kissed me. Within minutes we were in his bedroom.

‘You’re looking for a little danger, aren’t you?’ he said, as we walked into the sparse elegant room. I heard my own sharp intake of breath at his blatantness. I had not quite thought of it like that, but given that I was there with a man I barely knew, I could hardly argue the point, could I? The glint in his eye was thoroughly wicked. I remembered the woman’s smirk as she had walked by, the other night. What was I letting myself in for? I felt the urge to run.

‘And you?’ I asked, playing for time.

‘Judy... I simply want you to prove to me that you are a natural redhead ...’ His tone was reminiscent of a lawyer in court, then he gave a dark chuckle, flashing his teeth at me. I was about to comment on his sense of humour, when he reached over and slipped his hands beneath the edge of my velvet crop top and pulled it swiftly over my head. As it trailed from my fingertips to the floor, my comment came out as a gasp. He grinned, traced the edge of my lace bra with one finger and then stepped behind me. He lifted my skirt with one hand, and slipped the other between my thighs. My heart was pounding against the wall of my chest, his outrageous and direct actions provoked something blatant inside me: the need to be under him. My body was pounding, leaving me weak with need.

‘My, my, you are warm and damp. Judy, you should have said!’ His chuckle was positively sinister. By-passing the scrap of silk that betrayed my arousal he inserted one finger along the lips of my sex, and ran it from front to back. He began to explore me; slow, direct, inquisitive strokes, drawing low pants from me as each nerve ending leapt in response to his touches. My body was in turmoil. At that point the roller coaster ride had only just begun; I wanted him inside me, but Adam kept me waiting a long while for that particular pleasure.

He had me bound over an upturned chair, my ankles spread wide apart, my wrists tethered at my back, my sex thrust back on display to him. He had probed and examined me and tortured my clit into blinding submission three times already, leaving me a panting wreck. I was in ecstasy, blind to anything but this; I was desperate for penetration. But he kept me there, waiting. The room fell silent. I drifted on semi-consciousness.

The sharp cut of stiletto approaching drew me back. A slick digit probed into my aching cunt. I moaned. I felt the nub of his cock against me. One violent thrust filled me to the hilt; I writhed in ecstasy, arching back onto his erection. At last!

It was worth the wait, he was as efficient as he was confident about his sexual prowess, and I groaned as he probed as deep as he possibly could, and deeper, pushing vigorously up against the tenderest spots within me. I was in ecstasy, my body about to burst its banks of pent-up desire. As I gripped onto the upturned legs of the chair, almost there, her pvc clad hands suddenly laid over my arms, grasping at me in turn. My sharp intake of breath latched me on the edge of my climax; the realisation: she was fucking me, that gorgeous diva had played with me all night and was now fucking me to distraction.

‘Let it go, you bitch,’ he seethed, his vivid synthetic red hair clinging around my cheek, and I did, in total release to him, just as he did.

When I awoke the auburn hair lay on the bedside table, and the sound of whistling in the shower indicated that Luba had left. Adam emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his short dark hair slicked back and wet. He stood at the end of the bed. I smiled at him; Adam had turned out to be even more of a dark horse than I had imagined. He looked down at me moving in the bed, then he dropped the towel. As it fell to the floor I saw that his cock was hard and ready for me again. He gave a dark chuckle when my body quickly responded, shifting to face him. He pulled the sheets off me. It was Saturday. I did not leave his apartment until Monday morning.


I watched the swirl of his raincoat descending the stairs, remembering her slow easy steps. When I was with one facet of Adam I was always haunted by the other. Yet both of them somehow remained strangers to me, which I kind of enjoyed. I had always wanted to try sex with a stranger.

‘Why?’ I asked, much later on, when we were sitting facing each other, amongst the tousled sheets on Adam’s bed. I could not stop staring at her, Luba was such an enigma. She was wrapped in a silk kimono, whilst I sat naked in the tangled sheets.

‘Oh, the usual, childhood spent in Mother’s wardrobe, watching her string of attentive lovers and so on. Anyway, don’t you think I make an attractive woman?’ Her laugh was sardonic and decadent. He knew it. I nodded, smiling. He did make an attractive woman, and ironically I found Luba was a bit less unpredictable to be around than Adam was.

‘More than that, I want to get close to you, to women.’ Luba looked a little more serious. Her voice was low and gentle, but still recognisably Adam’s voice. ‘It’s more than the arousal associated with the masquerade, I want to know what it feels like to be you, to have men desperate for you. I want to share that with you.’ Luba’s eyes locked with mine. ‘Will you share it with me, Judy?’ The question seemed very weighted. She leaned over me and began to kiss my breasts. Her teeth tugged gently on my nipples, tugging at the need deep inside me. I hummed my approval.

‘Tell me,’ Luba whispered. ‘Tell me what you are feeling, I want to know.’

Her hair brushed over my breasts, her hands moving swiftly between my thighs, where a cloying heat awaited those inquisitive fingers. I groaned, my hips pushing up towards her.

‘Judy, tell me,’ she insisted, when I began to moan and writhe, her fingers flexing and then opening me wide, sending me quickly towards the edge.

‘Your fingers are so firm, and direct ... inside me... it sends out sensation all over my body.’ My words came slowly, drawn out with each movement of her fingers. ‘I want more, always more ...’

‘Tell me more, and you’ll get more.’ It was said through gritted teeth. She stirred her fingers faster, closing her palm hard over my clit, demanding the response.

‘Building, it’s building up ...’ The effort to speak with the climax so close took immense concentration. I was ready to beg for release.

‘You are driving me crazy, Luba! It’s like I am on fire there, with the need ... oh, please ...’

Luba dropped down and teased my anxious sex with her tongue. She sucked vigorously, taking the juice from my inner sex and bathing it over my ripe clitoris with her cupped lips, then circling the kernel of flesh rapidly with the tip of her tongue. I felt frantic yet weightless; disjointed words and whimpers flew up from my mouth as the sensations flew up from hers. I was strung out by the dynamism and intensity of Luba’s mouth on my clit, it left me barely able to breathe, let alone verbalise. As my moans soared up around us, Luba was wanking furiously.


By the middle of the next month, our explorations of each others sexuality had become increasingly deviant.

‘Tell me your fantasies,’ Adam instructed.

I knew him well enough by then to know that he was daring me to challenge him.

‘Luba knows,’ I whispered, as reckless and extravagant as he was when I was with him. I knew that Luba and Adam would come up with something wilder than I could possibly imagine, and I was their willing accomplice. He unravelled the chains that had held me down, and sat back, smiling self-indulgently.

‘You are right, Luba does know,’ he said, standing up quickly, pacing up and down the room with barely contained energies. What was in his mind this time? I wondered.

‘She’s getting ready to take you out, she thinks you two should meet a stranger.’ I sat up and took his outstretched hand. He looked manic; a shiver of anticipation ran over my bones. I felt almost relieved to see Luba emerge from the bathroom later.

She took me first to what she called TV Strip - the City streets where the transvestites walked. I wore Luba’s clothes, she had dressed me. A long slim dress in heavy black satin, cut into a mandarin collar with a keyhole over my cleavage. It was a little tight on my hips and thighs because Luba was leaner than I, and it reached nearly to the ground, whereas on her it was calf-length. She had scraped my hair into a tight skull-cap and she gave me her glossed-black wig and full length gloves to wear.

I looked in the mirror. I looked stunning, I felt fantastic. Luba walked alongside me, tall and elegant in pvc and auburn, proudly watching over her protégé. I felt the thrill surge inside me, excited and proud too, beneath her deviant wing.

As we walked across the street she sang ‘Take a walk on the wild side, baby,’ under her breath, causing me to chuckle. The cars crawled by, blurred faces watching as we clung together on the street corner, kissing and laughing at them as they looked us over, thinking that we were both lady-boys.

I found myself imagining that it was Adam watching us, wanting us. It was, in a way. I kissed Luba, that mouth was firm and passionate, reassuring. I opened my mouth to her and for a moment the world sped away from us. When a car suddenly braked and pulled up close against us, Luba gripped my arm and whispered against my ear as she walked us on. ‘Enough of this, this is not what I want for you.’

We moved on to a classy bar that was busy with the spill-over from the days business meetings. I glanced at her, wondering if Adam came there too. Luba’s familiarity with the place suggested that was the case. We sat in a leather snug, where we could observe the whole scene without being too obvious ourselves.

‘You need a name,’ Luba commented.

‘Do I?’ I twiddled the straw in my Slow Comfortable Screw; I couldn’t help smiling. Luba had selected it for me, along with a Bloody Mary for herself.

‘I think it should be something to go with your new look ... how about Camille?’

‘Okay.’ I was enjoying every second of this.

‘Right, Camille,’ she said, with purpose. ‘I think you should choose a man now.’ She gestured out towards the rest of the bar. After a moment I realised that she was quite serious. Then I acknowledged the fact that Luba would probably be quite capable of procuring whomsoever I might choose.

‘Why him? Just out of interest,’ she asked, looking over at the man I had indicated after nearly an hour of contemplation. Her expression was intense; she was fascinated by this game.

I looked back at him. He had come in just minutes before. He was not as tall or lean as Adam, but his body looked firmly muscled and attractive. He was a Latin-type, his skin gently sun-kissed, his features softly classical. He was wearing black jeans with a loose linen jacket over a tight black t shirt. And he was alone.

‘Two things in particular,’ I said. ‘His smile. Look, watch him when the barman gives him his change.’ Luba observed. The man’s mouth was exquisite, and when he smiled it betrayed his sensuality.

Luba nodded. ‘The other?’

‘He’s watching the people, just like we are.’ Luba observed him for a couple of minutes, then smiled.

‘Very true, Camille.’ She approved my choice, and she soon had him ensconced in the snug with us. Apparently a blatant invitation to join us had gone down rather well.

Luba chatted and quizzed him while he sipped his Southern Comfort, glancing from one to the other of us, with curious watchful eyes. I was even more pleased with my choice when he was closer. He was quite gorgeous, and very sexy indeed. His eyes were amber-brown and heavily fringed. A dark lock of hair fell forward over his brow as he turned to answer her questions. His name was Richard, he was a fitness instructor at a local gym, he was having a drink on his way home, and no he would not mind at all if we adjourned to Luba’s apartment for a bit more privacy.

He rested his hand across the back of my shoulders as I slipped out from the snug. My body was already warm, it was now becoming anxious and pliant.

‘You want to see us together, don’t you, Richard?’ Luba asked, as she settled him onto the chaise-longue with a fresh glass of Southern Comfort from Adam’s bar. His eyebrows lifted as if surprised, but his eyes revealed that was not an entirely unpleasant thought to him. Luba laughed. ‘That wouldn’t be a problem, would it, Camille?’ I joined in with her smiles, enjoying the game. Luba stood behind me, and began to run her hands over my breasts. I leaned back against her, the pair of us watching the man’s responses.

‘Are you two dykes?’ he asked, quite casually, sipping his drink. I couldn’t help laughing, but Luba answered him quite calmly. ‘No, not at all, Richard. I do hope that’s not a disappointment to you?’ Luba squeezed me tight, and planted a kiss on my shoulder. I knew Adam would be thrilled that Richard had not realised Luba’s true nature.

‘No ... I meant that I hoped that was not the case,’ he replied, cautiously. He seemed quite collected, if a little wary. I felt a moment of pity for him though, Luba was taunting him. I remembered my first encounter with Adam, trying to keep my cool despite my urge to run.

‘May I watch?’ Luba whispered against my ear, for my hearing only. I nodded; the idea of it turned me on immensely. Besides, I wanted him, I wanted Richard. I had chosen him, and I was going to have him. My need was becoming insistent and it made me take action. I stepped away from Luba.

‘I don’t want you to watch us,’ I said, closing on Richard. His eyes narrowed, there was caution in him. ‘I want you, Richard.’

He gave a controlled and appreciative smile. I could see he was more than ready to take me on, or both of us for that matter; the desire in his expression was naked. I reached out my hand to him, he took it and stood up.

‘Is that okay with you?’ I asked, quite calmly, as my arms laced themselves around his neck.

‘Perfectly so,’ he murmured. He looked into my eyes for a moment, then kissed me on both cheeks, slowly; his hands locked lightly around my upper arms. The brush of that full passionate mouth across my face, and the musky scent of his skin, brought a momentary pause to my breathing. Anticipation forced it on again, more rapidly. His lips met mine. My body was burning; I sought the wetness of his mouth to calm the flames, inviting his tongue deeper into my mouth. Meanwhile Luba moved behind me, undoing the zipper on my dress, taking it off me; she was silent, but I felt her intensity touching me.

Richard looked appreciatively at my unsheathed body, naked but for stockings and boots. He took off his jacket, dropping it to the floor, his eyes dark with lust as he watched me moving towards the chaise-longue. He stripped off the T-shirt. His torso was as finely-chiselled as one would expect of a fitness instructor. I began to purr.

‘You dye your hair black?’ he asked, glancing over my body with a quizzical expression. It took me a moment to realise what he meant. It was Luba’s turn to chuckle; I had just proven I was a natural redhead, again.

‘Um, yes,’ I managed to reply, and reached for him to distract him from that particular train of thought.

He rested his hands on my shoulders. As they sank to curve around my breasts, I knew they would be leading the eyes that watched. I was heady with arousal. The touch of his fingers was pure static, a thread of electricity that leapt from the skin of his palm, into the tightening skin of my nipples. I was fastened to his eyes, filled now with a blatant, demon sexuality, heat flooding from their intense darkness. He stirred the palms of his hands, his body closing on mine. Passion traversed the breath of space between our bodies, then the space shrank and was gone. Skin against skin began the swell of lust that burned my skin up in its wake. Then I was raw against him, gripping onto him with flickering hands. Richard responded to my sudden clawing desperation by pushing me down onto the chaise-longue.

‘Wait,’ he whispered, reaching for his belt. There was humour in his expression. I bit my lip and sat into the corner of the chaise-longue, my arms draping over the back. I tried to control the throbbing inside me. It was emanating deep waves of heat through my body. I shook back my head and closed my eyes for a second, to stop myself snatching at the man. My body wanted more, the hardness of his erection, naked in front of me now. He ran his hand over its length, looking down at me with heavy-lidded eyes. He sank to his knees, pushing my thighs open to lean between them, his mouth buried against the skin of my throat. His hands were sweeping the length of my thighs. I felt the slide of my own moistness seeping out, just before his fingers met it in the folds of skin that were swollen with lust for him.

My hands closed around Richard’s head, as his mouth opened over my nipple, sucking deep. Warm balm slipped down from his lips to slide over my flesh. His fingers were inside me, slicking the moistness there against the flexing walls of my sex. The engorged head of his cock moved between his fingers, displacing them in its quest for the grip of my sex.

He rose up and grappled with my hips, drawing me forward and pressing my thighs open. As he lunged into me, the pull of my fingers in his hair jerked his head back to align his eyes with those watching from the corner of the room. He smiled and drew back, his arms rigid against the chaise-longue, then he thrust so hard into me that I let free a cry of anguish. God he felt good!

For a few moments I wasn’t aware of myself or my actions. I was locked into it; my own body moving in time to meet his. Each reach of him was rapidly pushing my pounding cunt to the point of release. I felt only the sensations offered to my body, and the eyes that watched, the hot eyes. I saw the lampshade and the ceiling fade and then my eyes shut.

Moments later I heard a sound and became aware that Luba moved. I glanced over and saw she was behind Richard, lurking in the shadows so he could not see her, but where I could see her over his shoulder. One gloved hand delicately held her pvc skirt up and the other rode Adam’s erection with total vigour, while he watched Richard fucking me.

Richard was moving more rapidly, but I gripped his shoulder and arrested his movements. I wanted him angled deeper inside me. It was hard, but I pressed him back from me, forcing him to withdraw.

‘I want to kneel for you,’ I managed to explain, between gasping for breath. Air rasped into his lungs as he knelt back on his haunches, the arc of his shining cock resting in one hand.

‘Go for it,’ he said, with a grin. I returned his grin. I liked his way.

I turned to kneel on the chaise-lounge. My breasts touched back and forth across the velvet headrest as I pressed my hips back towards him. Richard cursed blissfully and climbed over me; he was ready, so very ready for this. He pulled my hips towards him, aligned himself with the swell of my invitation, and thrust deep inside me again.

He nudged right up to the spot that cracked thunder through my groin. I whimpered. His hands grasped at my shoulders as my body arched back onto him. My fingernails sank into the velvet as each thrust threw out a violent pang of pleasure. I felt the grip of Richard’s fingernails in the soft flesh of my hips and the close firm manipulations of his penis as he came to fruition. The rhythmic jerks moved inside me, echoed in the imminent release of weight from my very core.

‘Now ...’ I cried out, for Luba, my eyes closing. ‘It’s coming now ...’ My hips rode and flexed without reason. I ground back onto him, desperate, whimpering and panting. The low thunder finally rose up and crashed violently through my body, anchoring itself inside me for several exquisite moments, before rolling on and away from me.

He held onto me while I rode it out.

My senses groped for direction; I was drenched.


The filter coffee pot burbled at me as I slid it back into its niche. It was two weeks later, I was at a team briefing in the company board room. I turned back to the table just as Richard walked through the door. I had to grab my cup to stop it rattling against the saucer.

Laurel, the Managing Director, was shaking his hand. What was going on? I turned back to the coffee table and put the cup back down. Keep cool, I urged myself. Last time he saw me I was a raven-haired vamp in tight black satin. Today I was dressed in fluid aquamarine and my hair was clipped up in a pale russet knot atop my head.

‘Judy?’ Damn. I turned round. Laurel was walking towards me with Richard in tow.

‘May I introduce you to Ricardo Vincenzo.’ I could barely breathe. Alarm bells were going off everywhere. Vincenzo was the name of the journalist I had to work with on a forthcoming feature, later that afternoon. He was sitting in on the meeting to get a flavour of how the company worked for a Sunday supplement spread.

When I dared myself to look at him Richard was simply looking back at me with a friendly smile, his hand outstretched in greeting. I took his hand, sensing there was no imminent danger. I smiled, it seemed none of us had been straight with each other that night. Fitness instructor was it? And how did he manage that alongside his life as a well-known industry and commerce journalist? Adam probably knew his work. It was ironic; perhaps his pre-occupation with his own disguise had hidden ours from his eyes.

His handshake was firm and my interior nerve ends suddenly raced alive in memory of his touch elsewhere on my body. I must have held onto his hand overly-long because he began to look at me more closely, smiling back intimately, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. I was suddenly struck by his self-assurity and the intimacy that perfectly augmented his sensual nature. He was quite a man. I gathered my senses, broke the contact and turned away.

I observed him during the meeting, perching my reading glasses on the end of my nose to give me cover to take surreptitious sidelong glances at his profile. The stray lock of hair was slicked back, giving him a sharper professional look that went with his immaculately tailored suit. I started to relish my secret knowledge of him, observing him in the different context. The other women present were all showing interest in him; Laurel was positively simpering at him. Not surprisingly, she was recently divorced, he was a very attractive and attentive man. And a fantastic lover, my memory interjected. I bit my lip to quell the urge to laugh.

I led him to my office later that afternoon with a secret smile.

‘You seem vaguely familiar to me,’ he commented, as he entered my space. ‘Have me met before?’ His eyes traced the outline my body.

‘Déjà vu, perhaps?’ I replied, with a shrug and a smile, closing the door firmly behind us. I had decided that I wanted to get to know Ricardo Vincenzo, the journalist, properly. And as I mentioned earlier, it was in my nature to be quietly determined about such things.


Go to top

Twitter updates

What people are saying

Latest Blogposts

Powered by FeedBurner

Featured books

Powered by Mark