Red lace? Or maybe the black with white polka-dots? Hmm, no, I thought to myself as I rummaged through the drawer, I'll go with the blue satin today. I took just a moment to admire myself in the mirror as I put on the matching bra and panties, then quickly pulled on my scrubs and sensible clinic shoes and headed out the door.
It was the least I could do to enliven my otherwise routine-filled day. To put it bluntly, I was in a rut. A sad statement for a 26 year old doctor, I know. But let's just say that working for the HMO wasn't exactly the excitement I had in mind when I'd started out on the path towards my dream career. Even in medical school, when I was doing my residency in the inner-city ER, I was filled with anticipation as I went off to work each day, never knowing who I would meet or what lives I would have the chance to save. Now, not so much. I spent just as much time with paperwork as with patients, and, believe it or not, never got to discover a cure for an exotic disease. Most days, it was a steady stream of little kids with runny noses, their fathers asking surreptitiously for a prescription for little blue pills.
On the bright side, my job did translate into a nice paycheck, and that meant I always had some disposable income to play with. Recently, I'd made a habit of fairly regular visits to my favorite little lingerie shop, building up quite a collection of sets of matching undergarments. There was something about it, knowing that I looked sexy under my unisex scrubs, that kept me going through the stream of patients, meetings, and paperwork each day.
And it didn't hurt that it put a spark back in my relationship with Jacob. We'd been together for three years, living together for two, and both had jobs that left us exhausted in the evening. But lately, I'd made a habit of sending him a text message mid-day, telling him exactly what I'd picked out to wear that day. Often it was something new, something he hadn't even seen yet. On those days especially, it seemed he couldn't get home fast enough to watch me strip for him, and we'd enjoy a quickie before crashing.
Not to mention the fun I had picking out the outfits. Hmm, should I share this part of the story? Oh, what the hell. See, I had a special friend at the lingerie shop - a 22 year old bi-curious salesgirl who made a point of joining me in the dressing room to give me her honest opinion on each ensemble. She was the one who had driven home the importance of matching - not just color, but fabric, pattern, texture - something which Jacob let me know he very much appreciated. Little did he know who my teacher had been...
She insisted on undressing me and helping me into each bra, every pair of panties, with much fondling along the way. Sometimes, she would ask me to model for her as she fingered her clit, her eyes moving over my body as she pleasured herself. We never went further than that, as she needed to be able to jump out of the dressing room whenever another customer entered the store. But it was still a thrill, always leaving me wanting more as I returned home, and always giving me a pleasant memory the next time I put the outfit on.
It also didn't hurt that my little lingerie buddy and Jacob both loved to tell me how hot I looked. I'm 5'8" and fit, with perfect C-cup tits, long shapely legs, wavy blonde hair just past my shoulders, and big green eyes. Jacob seemed to like me best in blacks or reds, but my personal favorite in the naughty underwear category was blue - just the shade I had chosen to wear today.
"Doctor, your next patient is ready," the nurse had popped her head into my cubicle with her trademark gentle knock and warm smile, and I finished up the e-mail I was typing. What a day. While you were reading up on my lingerie habit, I was taking 10 minutes to eat the sack lunch I had been hungry for three hours before. It had been a long day full of patients and committee meetings. Did I mention the committees? I'll spare you, except to say that HMOs can't seem to function without putting every single doctor on at least three committees. I wanted the day to be over, but there was one more patient standing between me and my exit.
It was in this cranky mood that I went into the exam room, my nose buried in the patient's file as I greeted him with my usual, "Hello there, what seems to be the trouble?" I could see from his chart that he was 43 years old, with a history of excellent health. 6'1", 190 pounds, and notes from another doctor indicating that he was into fitness - everything from running to biking to rock climbing.
It was his voice that brought me out of my fog, and I looked up to see that he was a handsome man, with striking blue eyes. As he responded, I could tell that his voice was normally deep and powerful, but currently affected by what sounded like a nasty chest cold. "Well, I've been congested for a couple of weeks. Thought it was just allergies or a cold, but it doesn't seem to be going away, so I thought I should come in just in case."
I smiled sympathetically, then replied, "It's probably best that you did, are you having any other symptoms? Headaches, anything like that?" I paused to give him a chance to answer as I began my exam.
"Now that you mention it, I have had a few nasty headaches, just in the past few days. I've just been feeling kind of lousy, the congestion and sniffling leaves me tired at the end of the day."
As I was thinking to myself how silly it was for the nurses to have asked him to change into a gown for chest congestion, I asked my next question, "And have you tried anything so far to treat your symptoms? Just want to make sure I'm factoring in any over-the-counter stuff you may be taking before I prescribe anything else?"
"Oh, no, I really don't like to take anything unless I absolutely have to. Just been drinking lots of liquids, trying to get some extra rest."
"OK, sounds great. Open wide," I said as I looked into his mouth, then moved on to his ears, looking for any obvious signs of infection. "Anything else you think I should know?"
"Well, there is one thing that always makes me feel better when I feel like this, and I haven't had an opportunity to try that remedy."
"Oh, what's that?"
"A great blow job."
In spite of all of my training to expect just about anything to come out of a patient's mouth, I immediately blushed, and had to make a conscious effort to stop my jaw from dropping.
"Well, um," I stammered, trying to maintain my role as the professional, "that's not uncommon, you know - the rush of endorphins, the hormones that are released during sex, it all contributes to strengthen the immune system." Just as I regained my composure and managed to spit out this relatively intelligent-sounding sentence, I felt his eyes moving over my body. "And you say you haven't had the opportunity to try that remedy?"
"That's right. See, my standards are quite high. I won't let just anyone suck my cock. She's gotta be hot."
Was this guy for real? Did he make a habit of teasing doctors? Was he just trying to get a rise out of me? As soon as I had that particular thought, I glanced in the direction of his crotch and saw that he was the one with something rising. And I didn't need to be a doctor to see that he wasn't wearing anything under the flimsy gown.
"So, doctor, what would you suggest?" His eyes met mine, and I blushed again, realizing he'd caught me checking out his bulge. It was obvious he wasn't bluffing. He was asking for a prescription for a blow job. Only one thing remained to be determined - was I hot enough to meet his standards, or was he hoping I'd recommend some slut from the pharmacy?
I was in way over my head in the witty banter department, so I decided to proceed with actions, rather than words. I reached up, grabbing the corner of the curtain which hung next to the exam table, and gave it a tug so that it surrounded us in a veil of privacy. There was always the possibility that a nurse or another doctor could enter the room - a thought which caused my heart to race - but if the curtain was pulled, it would be assumed that an exam was taking place, and we wouldn't be interrupted.
I paused for a moment, locking my eyes on his. When he didn't make a move to stop me, I proceeded. I pulled my top off in one quick motion, tossing it to the floor next to me. Then, a bit slower, I slipped out of my pants, standing before him now in nothing but my matching satin blue bra and panties. He smiled to indicate his approval, and began stroking his growing cock through the thin fabric of the gown.
"Just one thing, doctor, before you begin. I'm going to need to know your first name."
A simple question, yes, but oh so naughty. Every day at work, everyone - even those colleagues who had become friends - addressed me by my title. Now, suddenly, brusquely, I was being addressed simply as a woman. More specifically, as a slut who would suck a stranger's cock on command.
"It's Melody. Anything else you need to know?"
"Nope, that's it. On your knees, please," he directed, kindly but firmly, as he stepped down from the exam table and stood before me, pulling up the gown to reveal his bulging cock.
I quickly obliged, bringing myself to eye-level with his manhood, and proceeded to give all of my attention to the task at hand. In one long, slow, smooth motion, I placed my lips around the tip of his cock and gradually worked him into my mouth until I had completely engulfed his entire length, gagging a bit as he reached the back of my throat. Maintaining my slow tempo, I released him and took him in entirely several more times, until I felt him begin to move his hips in rhythm with my motions.
I now began moving faster, taking less length into my mouth as I used my hands on the base of his shaft. He enjoyed this for a few moments before reaching down to push my hands away, grabbing my hair and shoving me down so that I was again taking his entire length into my throat. I struggled to keep from making too much noise, but I loved his aggressive touch, and was moaning with pleasure at each stroke.
"Oh yeah, Melody, you like that, huh? You like it when I force myself deep into your throat?"
I nodded in agreement, unable to speak, and looked up at him with my big green eyes.
He continued, "I suppose you'd like a little attention as well?" He freed me to pull away long enough to answer.
"Oh no, this is all about you. We can't evaluate the effectiveness of the blow job therapy unless we follow through to the conclusion."
"Very well then, continue."
I got back to work with renewed enthusiasm, completely turned on by the scenario. A colleague could walk in at any moment to discover me engaged in completely inappropriate behavior with a patient, but I didn't care. We - this stranger and I - had quickly invented the role of slutty cock-sucking doctor, and I was getting off on playing it to the hilt.
I now cupped his balls in one hand, and began jacking him off with my other as I firmly sucked the last few inches of his cock. He clearly loved this combination of motions, so I stuck with it, gradually increasing my tempo as I responded to his growing excitement. After a few minutes, he reached down and began fondling my tits, gently at first, but then more firmly, and finally squeezing my nipples to the point of pain.
No complaints from me, though, as I simply bobbed up and down on him with more enthusiasm, groaning with a mix of pain and pleasure as he moved closer to his climax. He was pounding into me now, thrusting his hips powerfully forward as I struggled to keep his throbbing length in my mouth.
"Where do you want me to cum," he hissed breathlessly. Although he had been in control up to this point, I jumped through the door which his question opened. I knew exactly what I wanted, and knew the logistics of the exam room well enough to make it happen.
I gave his cock one last, long suck, before letting him out of my mouth and jumping to my feet. As he watched, I walked to the exam table, placed my forearms flat against its surface, spread my legs, and looked back at him over my shoulder, in a clear invitation to take me from behind.
He needed no further instructions, as he came up behind me, moved the fabric of my panties away from my dripping-wet pussy, and slowly pressed his long, hard cock into me. I groaned loudly as he filled me, reaching down to finger my own clit as he began pounding in and out. I knew he wouldn't last long - but neither would I, turned on as I was. When he reached around and grabbed me by the tits, using them both to pleasure me and as a handle while he fucked me savagely, I could feel my orgasm beginning.
As my pussy clenched around his cock, he whispered in my ear, "Yes, Melody, yes, yes," and I felt his cum shoot deep into me. He collapsed against me, and we both stayed there for a few minutes, panting against the exam table.
When we finally stood up and reached for our clothes to begin dressing, he said with a smile, "Well, it seems that the old treatment worked wonders once again!"
"Glad to have helped! And thank you, I'll have to keep that treatment in mind for troublesome cases in the future."
"Oh no, doctor, thank you."
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
Film Festival
It was truly one of those lust at first sight scenarios. As I read those words, it doesn't do it justice - it sounds sleasy, or cheap - but really, it's the best way to describe what happened. We come from completely different walks of life, and pursuing an actual relationship was out of the question, but, it seemed, we couldn't keep our hands off each other.
I'm a grad student in English Lit, 23 years old, and met him while indulging what had up until then been a solitary pastime of mine - volunteering at the local independent cinema. My friends from school were happy to join me for a beer after seminars, or put together study groups, but somehow even just the mention of art films gave them a pressing prior engagement. But it had always been a love of mine - spending time at the small theater and watching whatever happened to be showing, whether a foreign film with subtitles or a documentary about global warming that would only months later win a politician an Oscar.
He was, I found out after spotting him a few times and finally having to ask around, one of the theater's board members. Made sense - he didn't seem like the scruffy intellectual type who was the stereotypical indie film buff. His role was clearly that of the philanthropist, the well-off, confident businessman who for some inexplicable reason had chosen this place as the beneficiary of some of his time and money.
It was his confidence which first caused me to notice him - the way he commanded whatever space he entered. He was probably in his mid-40s, about 6'2" with an athletic build, distinguished with graying hair, but also still a youthful look out of his blue eyes, and always just the right amount of stubble on his face to turn me on.
The opportunity finally arose for us to be introduced, at the opening night gala for the annual film festival. I was volunteering in exchange for tickets, and he was there along with all of the other board members, each of them pitching in on some task, from taking tickets to announcing the array of films, with many of the directors in attendance to speak and answer questions about their work.
"Kristen," said the kindly manager, Helen, "could you come here for a moment, I'd like for you to meet Jim, one of our board members."
I walked across the room with a smile, my hand outstretched, trying to stop from blushing as I felt his eyes confidently take in my form. He was one of those men who could make it clear he was checking you out while somehow not making you feel uncomfortable. His handshake was firm but warm, and as he looked into my eyes, I could tell the attraction was mutual.
"Nice to finally meet you, Kristen. I've watched you working hard around here. Thanks for all that you do!"
Several patrons joined us, mingling and chatting as we waited for the curtain to go up on the first film of the festival. Jim and I had obvious chemistry, taking every reasonable opportunity to touch, constantly catching each other in an obvious glance as we talked with someone else. But I wasn't about to make the first move. It was a fun flirtation, that was all. Or so I told myself.
"Shall we?" he asked, motioning for me to go through the door from the lobby into the theater in front of him.
"We? Aren't you here with someone?" I asked coyly.
"No, and I'd be honored if you join me."
And so I did, following him to his seat and enjoying the fine film with him in the midst of a packed theater. We had a few awkward moments, our hands accidentally meeting on the armrest between our seats, our feet touching occasionally as I crossed my legs, our shoulders lingering together as he leaned towards me in an attempt to see around the rather large hairdo in front of him. But it was an innocent enough evening.
"Perhaps I'll see you again later this week?" he asked as he retrieved his leather jacket from the coat check and headed for the door.
"I'm sure you will, I'm signed up to help every night of the festival!"
With a wink, he zipped his jacket and stepped out into the darkness of the late evening. I worked for another hour or so, helping to clean the lobby and retrieve extra programs from the theater, before heading back to my apartment, already planning what to wear the next night. What? Well, even if I wasn't about to make the first move, that was no reason not to be inviting in case he intended to!
Luckily, the late spring weather cooperated with my plan to wear my most flattering blue and white sundress, with a small matching sweater to cover my bare shoulders. I wore my red wavy hair down that evening, and it cascaded just past my shoulders, bouncing as I walked. The dress brought out the color of my big blue eyes, and fit every curve perfectly while remaining quite decent for a night out at the festival. I went braless, the dress cupping my 34C tits perfectly on its own.
As always, I was one of the first people in the theater, helping to get things rolling before the audience arrived. But that night in particular, attendance seemed light. Funny, I thought to myself, how many people would come out just to be seen at the opening gala, and how many fewer people actually cared to come back later in the week to watch other films. I realized that Jim hadn't specifically said he'd be back that particular evening, and began to feel silly for worrying so much about my appearance.
But just before the movie was about to start, there he was. I looked up from a box of programs just in time to catch him looking at me as he greeted a few other filmgoers. After peeling himself away from that conversation, he walked across the lobby to me, and we began to chat.
Again, our magnetism was obvious, and by the time we had finished chatting about everything from sports to the weather to bad attendance for films with subtitles, we realized we were alone in the lobby, the film having started and everyone already in their seats.
"Oops!" he said with a laugh. Then, a mock-serious look on his face, "follow me."
We walked up the stairs to the balcony, where I quickly saw we'd be alone, and found two seats in the front row. The balcony in this old theater was an odd one - quite small, with just a few dozen seats, and steep enough that many people didn't feel comfortable making their way around. I rarely sat there myself, in fact. But the view of the screen was really quite good.
Almost as soon as we sat down, Jim put his arm around the back of my seat, his fingers touching the edge of the seat next to mine. It was a clear yet subtle move, as he had yet to actually touch me, but was clearly opening that door. I responded immediately, relaxing deeper into my seat, hoping to make it clear that I was encouraging his advances.
"So, you don't mind?" he whispered into my ear, his hand now cupping my shoulder.
"No, not at all, be my guest," I whispered back, leaning into him.
His mouth lingered near my ear, but he said nothing else for a moment, simply watching my reaction as his warm breath hit my skin. When I didn't object, he boldly licked my ear, briefly taking my earlobe between his teeth and nibbling slightly. I couldn't help but sigh at his expert touch, and he was once again encouraged.
"Would you like more, Kristen?"
"Mmmm," was all I responded, placing my hand on his thigh. He proceeded again, his hand now slipping from my shoulder down to my chest, where he began fondling my breast through the fabric of my dress.
If he hadn't already taken risks, he did now. "Hmm, no bra? What kind of slut must you be?"
He couldn't have known how I would react - I might have slapped him and walked away - but somehow his use of the word turned me on even more. I turned my head towards him and hissed back, "the kind of slut who was hoping you might make a move on me tonight?"
He smiled and kissed me passionately, forcing his tongue deep into my mouth as our lips locked together. Pulling away once more, he continued with his provocative whisper, "How far are you willing to go, right here, right now, a few dozen people sitting in those seats below us?"
Yikes, I had forgotten my surroundings. My body froze for a moment as several thoughts flooded through my mind. This was already the hottest encounter I'd ever experienced, this hot older guy seducing me in the dark of the theater. The thrill of getting caught turned me on like crazy, but I really, really didn't want to actually get caught, especially by one of the sweet older women who volunteered as ushers. And then, watching for a moment the serious documentary on the screen, I remembered the 'Seinfeld' episode where Jerry made out instead of watching 'Schindler's List'.
Stop, I told myself. I knew this theater. Alone on the balcony, we'd have at least some warning before anyone caught us. What the hell. I relaxed, letting my weight fall against his once more. I was now more aware of the sounds of other people in the theater, and the thrill of public sex was real. He whispered once more.
"Sit on the edge of your seat and spread your legs for me, Kristen."
I did as I was told, closing my eyes and waiting to feel what he would do next. I could feel him sitting up in his seat as he found the hem of my dress with his fingers. Soon I could feel my legs exposed as he hiked up the dress, and I opened my eyes to watch as he began rubbing my clit through my panties. They were soaked with my juices already, and it was all I could do to stay quiet as he began pleasuring me with his fingers.
My hand found his bulge and I began squeezing and massaging his growing cock through his slacks, his fingers now working their way under my panties, shoving them aside. Just as I began to find a rhythm as I stroked him, he pulled away, climbing out of his seat and down to his knees in front of me. I spread my legs further to give him more room, and tried to smooth out my dress over his head, just on the off-chance someone entered the balcony and he had to remain hiding there.
That was the last of my coherent thoughts as his tongue reached my clit. He began a series of long, slow strokes from my clit down across my pussy lips, before his fingers began simultaneously probing my pussy. I gripped the armrests of my seat and pressed my toes into the floor, my body aching with the desire to cry out as he brought me to higher and higher levels of pleasure.
He gradually increased the pace and depth of his finger-fucking, and likewise the intensity of his sucking on my clit, until I finally couldn't hold back any longer and came, my juices covering his fingers as I bit my tongue to keep from screaming. He quietly climbed back into his seat, forced his fingers into my mouth for me to taste my own juices, and then pulled them away just as quickly, kissing me once again.
No words were necessary, I knew what he wanted next and I wanted nothing more than to return the pleasure he had just given me. Just as he had moments before, I now climbed out of my seat and got down on my knees between his legs. He unzipped his slacks and whipped out his already-hard cock, grabbed me by the hair, and pressed me down onto him until his entire length was buried in my throat.
He held me there for several moments, and I could feel his cock twitching as I cupped his balls and began massaging them. He then released his grip on my hair, and I took the signal to begin moving up and down on him. Once again, I noticed the sounds of the other people in the theater - the occasional cough or whisper, footsteps as someone left or returned to their seat - and was once again overwhelmed with excitement to be engaged in such naughty behavior.
I continued sucking, my tongue exploring the bottom of his shaft with each stroke, and my hands alternating between playing with his balls and jacking him off. His fingers, gently this time, weaved their way into my hair and encouraged my motions for a few more moments before he pulled me away. I put my elbows on his thighs and looked into his eyes, whispering, "what now?"
"You're going to make me cum, Kristen. So the question is, where do you want me to cum? It's up to you..."
Silently, I mouthed my response, "In my tight little pussy..."
I stood up, turned around so that I was facing away from him, and slowly hiked up my dress. He grabbed my ass cheeks in his hands and massaged them, once again pushing my panties aside, before gradually lowering me down onto his rock-hard cock. I sighed deeply as he filled me, and remained still for a moment once he was completely inside of me. Slowly and steadily, I began moving up and down on him, faster and faster, his hands reaching around to grab my tits as they bounced with each stroke.
Faster and harder now, I rode him, changing the angle now and then by shifting my legs on his, until he placed his hands on my shoulders and once again slowed my motions down to nothing. He whispered in my ear once more, his voice now so familiar. "Trust me?"
"Yes," I hissed back.
"Then stand up, put your hands on the railing, and spread your legs wide for me."
I understood now why he asked about trust. He was suggesting a position from which we'd be much more obvious, should anyone enter the balcony from behind us, or look up towards us from the floor below. But I did trust, and more importantly, I did want him to fuck me from behind until we both came.
I followed his directions, and he immediately positioned himself behind me and thrust into me in one smooth stroke. Once inside me, he placed his hands on the railing alongside mine and began fucking me furiously. I looked down for a moment and saw the dozens of people below us, eagerly watching the screen, but sure to look up if they heard an odd noise. As he pounded into me, I bit my tongue once again to avoid crying out.
It was only a few moments more before we both reached the pinnacle of pleasure. I came first, watching the people below us as I felt my pussy throb, my juices flow, and wave after wave of feeling rush through my body. My orgasm seemed to lead to his, as I felt his cum shoot deep into me just as I was coming down from the heights of my pleasure. We remained in that position for a few moments more, Jim placing a few delicate kisses on my neck as his cock remained buried inside me.
We did our best to make ourselves presentable as the final credits rolled on the big screen, although we still smelled of sex. We agreed to make separate exits from the balcony, just in case anyone was paying attention, but only after agreeing to enjoy the next four nights of the film festival from the same seats.
I'm a grad student in English Lit, 23 years old, and met him while indulging what had up until then been a solitary pastime of mine - volunteering at the local independent cinema. My friends from school were happy to join me for a beer after seminars, or put together study groups, but somehow even just the mention of art films gave them a pressing prior engagement. But it had always been a love of mine - spending time at the small theater and watching whatever happened to be showing, whether a foreign film with subtitles or a documentary about global warming that would only months later win a politician an Oscar.
He was, I found out after spotting him a few times and finally having to ask around, one of the theater's board members. Made sense - he didn't seem like the scruffy intellectual type who was the stereotypical indie film buff. His role was clearly that of the philanthropist, the well-off, confident businessman who for some inexplicable reason had chosen this place as the beneficiary of some of his time and money.
It was his confidence which first caused me to notice him - the way he commanded whatever space he entered. He was probably in his mid-40s, about 6'2" with an athletic build, distinguished with graying hair, but also still a youthful look out of his blue eyes, and always just the right amount of stubble on his face to turn me on.
The opportunity finally arose for us to be introduced, at the opening night gala for the annual film festival. I was volunteering in exchange for tickets, and he was there along with all of the other board members, each of them pitching in on some task, from taking tickets to announcing the array of films, with many of the directors in attendance to speak and answer questions about their work.
"Kristen," said the kindly manager, Helen, "could you come here for a moment, I'd like for you to meet Jim, one of our board members."
I walked across the room with a smile, my hand outstretched, trying to stop from blushing as I felt his eyes confidently take in my form. He was one of those men who could make it clear he was checking you out while somehow not making you feel uncomfortable. His handshake was firm but warm, and as he looked into my eyes, I could tell the attraction was mutual.
"Nice to finally meet you, Kristen. I've watched you working hard around here. Thanks for all that you do!"
Several patrons joined us, mingling and chatting as we waited for the curtain to go up on the first film of the festival. Jim and I had obvious chemistry, taking every reasonable opportunity to touch, constantly catching each other in an obvious glance as we talked with someone else. But I wasn't about to make the first move. It was a fun flirtation, that was all. Or so I told myself.
"Shall we?" he asked, motioning for me to go through the door from the lobby into the theater in front of him.
"We? Aren't you here with someone?" I asked coyly.
"No, and I'd be honored if you join me."
And so I did, following him to his seat and enjoying the fine film with him in the midst of a packed theater. We had a few awkward moments, our hands accidentally meeting on the armrest between our seats, our feet touching occasionally as I crossed my legs, our shoulders lingering together as he leaned towards me in an attempt to see around the rather large hairdo in front of him. But it was an innocent enough evening.
"Perhaps I'll see you again later this week?" he asked as he retrieved his leather jacket from the coat check and headed for the door.
"I'm sure you will, I'm signed up to help every night of the festival!"
With a wink, he zipped his jacket and stepped out into the darkness of the late evening. I worked for another hour or so, helping to clean the lobby and retrieve extra programs from the theater, before heading back to my apartment, already planning what to wear the next night. What? Well, even if I wasn't about to make the first move, that was no reason not to be inviting in case he intended to!
Luckily, the late spring weather cooperated with my plan to wear my most flattering blue and white sundress, with a small matching sweater to cover my bare shoulders. I wore my red wavy hair down that evening, and it cascaded just past my shoulders, bouncing as I walked. The dress brought out the color of my big blue eyes, and fit every curve perfectly while remaining quite decent for a night out at the festival. I went braless, the dress cupping my 34C tits perfectly on its own.
As always, I was one of the first people in the theater, helping to get things rolling before the audience arrived. But that night in particular, attendance seemed light. Funny, I thought to myself, how many people would come out just to be seen at the opening gala, and how many fewer people actually cared to come back later in the week to watch other films. I realized that Jim hadn't specifically said he'd be back that particular evening, and began to feel silly for worrying so much about my appearance.
But just before the movie was about to start, there he was. I looked up from a box of programs just in time to catch him looking at me as he greeted a few other filmgoers. After peeling himself away from that conversation, he walked across the lobby to me, and we began to chat.
Again, our magnetism was obvious, and by the time we had finished chatting about everything from sports to the weather to bad attendance for films with subtitles, we realized we were alone in the lobby, the film having started and everyone already in their seats.
"Oops!" he said with a laugh. Then, a mock-serious look on his face, "follow me."
We walked up the stairs to the balcony, where I quickly saw we'd be alone, and found two seats in the front row. The balcony in this old theater was an odd one - quite small, with just a few dozen seats, and steep enough that many people didn't feel comfortable making their way around. I rarely sat there myself, in fact. But the view of the screen was really quite good.
Almost as soon as we sat down, Jim put his arm around the back of my seat, his fingers touching the edge of the seat next to mine. It was a clear yet subtle move, as he had yet to actually touch me, but was clearly opening that door. I responded immediately, relaxing deeper into my seat, hoping to make it clear that I was encouraging his advances.
"So, you don't mind?" he whispered into my ear, his hand now cupping my shoulder.
"No, not at all, be my guest," I whispered back, leaning into him.
His mouth lingered near my ear, but he said nothing else for a moment, simply watching my reaction as his warm breath hit my skin. When I didn't object, he boldly licked my ear, briefly taking my earlobe between his teeth and nibbling slightly. I couldn't help but sigh at his expert touch, and he was once again encouraged.
"Would you like more, Kristen?"
"Mmmm," was all I responded, placing my hand on his thigh. He proceeded again, his hand now slipping from my shoulder down to my chest, where he began fondling my breast through the fabric of my dress.
If he hadn't already taken risks, he did now. "Hmm, no bra? What kind of slut must you be?"
He couldn't have known how I would react - I might have slapped him and walked away - but somehow his use of the word turned me on even more. I turned my head towards him and hissed back, "the kind of slut who was hoping you might make a move on me tonight?"
He smiled and kissed me passionately, forcing his tongue deep into my mouth as our lips locked together. Pulling away once more, he continued with his provocative whisper, "How far are you willing to go, right here, right now, a few dozen people sitting in those seats below us?"
Yikes, I had forgotten my surroundings. My body froze for a moment as several thoughts flooded through my mind. This was already the hottest encounter I'd ever experienced, this hot older guy seducing me in the dark of the theater. The thrill of getting caught turned me on like crazy, but I really, really didn't want to actually get caught, especially by one of the sweet older women who volunteered as ushers. And then, watching for a moment the serious documentary on the screen, I remembered the 'Seinfeld' episode where Jerry made out instead of watching 'Schindler's List'.
Stop, I told myself. I knew this theater. Alone on the balcony, we'd have at least some warning before anyone caught us. What the hell. I relaxed, letting my weight fall against his once more. I was now more aware of the sounds of other people in the theater, and the thrill of public sex was real. He whispered once more.
"Sit on the edge of your seat and spread your legs for me, Kristen."
I did as I was told, closing my eyes and waiting to feel what he would do next. I could feel him sitting up in his seat as he found the hem of my dress with his fingers. Soon I could feel my legs exposed as he hiked up the dress, and I opened my eyes to watch as he began rubbing my clit through my panties. They were soaked with my juices already, and it was all I could do to stay quiet as he began pleasuring me with his fingers.
My hand found his bulge and I began squeezing and massaging his growing cock through his slacks, his fingers now working their way under my panties, shoving them aside. Just as I began to find a rhythm as I stroked him, he pulled away, climbing out of his seat and down to his knees in front of me. I spread my legs further to give him more room, and tried to smooth out my dress over his head, just on the off-chance someone entered the balcony and he had to remain hiding there.
That was the last of my coherent thoughts as his tongue reached my clit. He began a series of long, slow strokes from my clit down across my pussy lips, before his fingers began simultaneously probing my pussy. I gripped the armrests of my seat and pressed my toes into the floor, my body aching with the desire to cry out as he brought me to higher and higher levels of pleasure.
He gradually increased the pace and depth of his finger-fucking, and likewise the intensity of his sucking on my clit, until I finally couldn't hold back any longer and came, my juices covering his fingers as I bit my tongue to keep from screaming. He quietly climbed back into his seat, forced his fingers into my mouth for me to taste my own juices, and then pulled them away just as quickly, kissing me once again.
No words were necessary, I knew what he wanted next and I wanted nothing more than to return the pleasure he had just given me. Just as he had moments before, I now climbed out of my seat and got down on my knees between his legs. He unzipped his slacks and whipped out his already-hard cock, grabbed me by the hair, and pressed me down onto him until his entire length was buried in my throat.
He held me there for several moments, and I could feel his cock twitching as I cupped his balls and began massaging them. He then released his grip on my hair, and I took the signal to begin moving up and down on him. Once again, I noticed the sounds of the other people in the theater - the occasional cough or whisper, footsteps as someone left or returned to their seat - and was once again overwhelmed with excitement to be engaged in such naughty behavior.
I continued sucking, my tongue exploring the bottom of his shaft with each stroke, and my hands alternating between playing with his balls and jacking him off. His fingers, gently this time, weaved their way into my hair and encouraged my motions for a few more moments before he pulled me away. I put my elbows on his thighs and looked into his eyes, whispering, "what now?"
"You're going to make me cum, Kristen. So the question is, where do you want me to cum? It's up to you..."
Silently, I mouthed my response, "In my tight little pussy..."
I stood up, turned around so that I was facing away from him, and slowly hiked up my dress. He grabbed my ass cheeks in his hands and massaged them, once again pushing my panties aside, before gradually lowering me down onto his rock-hard cock. I sighed deeply as he filled me, and remained still for a moment once he was completely inside of me. Slowly and steadily, I began moving up and down on him, faster and faster, his hands reaching around to grab my tits as they bounced with each stroke.
Faster and harder now, I rode him, changing the angle now and then by shifting my legs on his, until he placed his hands on my shoulders and once again slowed my motions down to nothing. He whispered in my ear once more, his voice now so familiar. "Trust me?"
"Yes," I hissed back.
"Then stand up, put your hands on the railing, and spread your legs wide for me."
I understood now why he asked about trust. He was suggesting a position from which we'd be much more obvious, should anyone enter the balcony from behind us, or look up towards us from the floor below. But I did trust, and more importantly, I did want him to fuck me from behind until we both came.
I followed his directions, and he immediately positioned himself behind me and thrust into me in one smooth stroke. Once inside me, he placed his hands on the railing alongside mine and began fucking me furiously. I looked down for a moment and saw the dozens of people below us, eagerly watching the screen, but sure to look up if they heard an odd noise. As he pounded into me, I bit my tongue once again to avoid crying out.
It was only a few moments more before we both reached the pinnacle of pleasure. I came first, watching the people below us as I felt my pussy throb, my juices flow, and wave after wave of feeling rush through my body. My orgasm seemed to lead to his, as I felt his cum shoot deep into me just as I was coming down from the heights of my pleasure. We remained in that position for a few moments more, Jim placing a few delicate kisses on my neck as his cock remained buried inside me.
We did our best to make ourselves presentable as the final credits rolled on the big screen, although we still smelled of sex. We agreed to make separate exits from the balcony, just in case anyone was paying attention, but only after agreeing to enjoy the next four nights of the film festival from the same seats.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
Pretty Woman
It all happened pretty naturally, really. I was an attractive, confident female graduate of the academy, one of just six women out of a class of 40, and the only one of those six who could convincingly pull off posing as a hooker. No offense to the other women - let's just say it was obvious that many of them played for the other team. Anyway, I was quickly selected to join the vice squad, and given the task of putting on a different disguise each shift and walking the streets as a decoy to pull in johns.
At first, I was all business, just seeing it as a chance to prove my professionalism and work towards a promotion, so I could be doing the work I was really passionate about. My goal was to work my way up to the rank of detective, so I could work on really important cases, getting bank robbers and murderers off the streets. If my perfect body and my willingness to pose as a member of the oldest profession was my ticket to get there, so be it.
I should probably take a moment to share a bit more detail about what my work entailed. I was never actually at risk of following through on the act in question with the guys who picked me up. My job was to look the part, walk the street, reel the guys in, and then signal my backup as soon as the john had offered me money for sex.
I showed up to work late each afternoon, dressed in whatever jeans and t-shirt I had thrown on at home, and selected an appropriate wardrobe from the strange assortment of slutty outfits we'd put together at the station. Some days it would be red leather, some days black, sometimes I'd go with the red wig, other times blonde. The key was that I look as inviting as possible, while disguising my actual identity.
Beyond the clothes, wigs, and makeup, though, it didn't take much for me to look the part. At 22, I was in perfect shape - well-proportioned at 5'7" and 120 pounds, nice perky tits, long legs, and a great ass - so my boyfriend always told me, anyway. I had lived a fairly straight-laced life up to this point, so I have to admit I was a little shocked each time I looked in the mirror when I was dressed for the street.
The first few times I went out, I was a little scared, but any feelings of worry quickly wore off as I got used to the routine of signalling for the arrest. Strange as it may sound, it actually got a little dull, as I never did more than just hop in a stranger's car, talk for a few seconds, and then get back out once the backup car's siren went off.
The most enjoyable part of the task for me was choosing the slutty outfit and strutting up and down the street corner, as it was a unique experience for me to act in a such a blatantly sexual way. In fact, before long, this part of the job started to turn me on. Even though it was all an act, and I was being paid to catch these poor suckers, rather than to fuck them, I couldn't help enjoying all the attention as they drove by, honking and hollering at my hot body.
And soon, I found myself quite frustrated, shocked at the realization that at least a small, dirty part of me wanted to follow through on one of these transactions. It was when I started fantasizing about it, imagining a stranger paying me for sex as my boyfriend fucked me to orgasm, that I realized I owed it to myself to live out this fantasy, at least once.
Knowing everyone in vice in this town, I knew I'd need to go elsewhere - the risk of being caught by a colleague was just too great. I quickly decided on Vegas, figuring I could make a quick trip some weekend when my boyfriend was going out of town for business, and catching a little of the 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas' action without anyone finding out.
Three weeks after I'd made this decision, the opportunity finally presented itself. In the meantime, I'd made a trip to one of the local adult shops, picking out my outfit for the trip - a black leather bustier and mini skirt, matching knee-high boots, and crotchless fishnet tights. I was so turned on by shopping for the clothes that I fingered myself to a breathless orgasm in the dressing room as I tried them on.
I packed my bag, which contained little more than that outfit and a fresh supply of condoms, and hopped the quick flight, checking into the hotel I'd chosen near a likely street corner. I'd done my research in advance, thinking the safest bet would be to target a convention crowd - straight-laced guys interested in a fun time away from the wife or girlfriend - rather than a seedier part of town where I might risk running into a psycho.
I hung out in my hotel room for a few hours, waiting for dusk to arrive, but also gathering up my courage. As excited as I'd been about this scenario for the past several weeks, I was suddenly nervous once it was actually within sight. I showered, played with my long brown hair for a while before finally settling on two youthful pigtails, and then slipped into my skin-tight leather outfit.
I was only on the street for a few minutes before the first car pulled over, and I chickened out, pretending to ignore the driver's advances as if I dressed like this every night and was on my way somewhere. A few more cars slowed as they passed me, and finally I took a deep breath and decided to respond to the next guy who pulled over.
It was a silver sedan, a rental car, I noticed, thinking that to be a good sign, clearly someone in town for business. The driver pulled around the corner to a side street before stopping, so that I had to walk several steps to catch up with him before leaning down to look at him through the passenger window he'd opened. I was pleased with what I saw, a handsome and well-dressed man of about 40 with a kind face. This was my chance, no backing out now.
"Hey, honey, looking for a good time?"
"Sure, baby," the stranger replied to my breasts, "why don't you come in out of the cold."
"Just one thing before I get in," I said coyly, "you're not a cop, are you?"
"Nope, just a regular guy in town for a conference, looking for a little fun after a boring day of meetings! What about you," he said with a chuckle, "you're not undercover, are you?"
I felt myself blush, but quickly pulled myself together and got into the car next to him. I couldn't believe the rush, the dialogue no longer just a script I'd been trained to follow.
"Are you kidding, with a body like this?" I spread my legs in the seat next to him, and his eyes followed my hands as they traced their way up my thighs. I was pretending to do my hooker act, but in fact I was so turned on that I couldn't keep my hands off myself.
"So, what's your name?" I asked him.
"Richard, what's yours?"
"You can call me Danielle," I replied, surprised at myself but even more turned on after giving him my real name. "So, what would you like?"
"What do you do?"
"Anything you can afford."
He leaned over and whispered a naughty scenario in my ear, and I blushed once again.
"Hmm, no problem, if you've got 200 bucks. I assume your hotel is nearby?"
He responded by sitting back behind the wheel and making a quick turn at the next intersection, going around the block, just as I'd feared, to pull into the garage of the same hotel where I was staying. Oh well, it would make for an easy return "home" once my job was complete! Just before we entered the parking garage, I heard the familiar "whoop" of a police siren, and had to grit my teeth to keep from jumping out of my skin. A quick glance in the side mirror confirmed that it was a speeding motorist, not a naughty out-of-town vice cop, that they were after. Whew.
As soon as we were in his room, he pulled two crisp hundreds out of his wallet and put them on the table by the door. I could have jumped him right then, excited as I was at the naughty prospect of being paid for sex, but reminded myself that I had been hired for a job, and he'd been quite specific about his desires.
I went to the wardrobe and pulled out the silk ties he'd told me would be there, as he quickly stripped naked. He laid down on the bed, and I climbed on top of him, slowly tying each of his hands to the headboard.
Once his hands were tied, I stood back up and began a slow, sexy strip, peeling out of the tight, hot leather, but leaving on the boots and fishnets, just as he'd instructed. I watched his cock harden as he watched me, and felt the juices already flowing from my pussy. I couldn't wait any longer, and climbed onto the bed, taking his cock first into my hands and then into my mouth.
He moaned in pleasure as I slowly engulfed his length, and then began bobbing up and down on him as my fingers tickled his balls. I was just able to manage his length and girth, taking him completely into my throat with each stroke. I sucked him off for a few more minutes, before he pushed me away, wanting to move on to his next desire before he shot his load.
I stood up on the bed, giving him a great view up my long, sexy legs to my wet pussy. Unzipping one of my boots just a bit, I fished out one of the condoms I had packed for my trip. Kneeling back down above him, ripped the package open with my teeth and stroked his cock as I slid the condom on.
With his cock jutting upward from his body and his hands still tied, I began touching myself as he had instructed, while he watched, helpless to do anything but watch the excitement build. I began by playing with my tits, fondling them in my hands and pressing each nipple upwards to meet my outstretched tongue.
Soon, I couldn't help but let my hands fall to my pussy. Two fingers explored my clit while three fingers of the other hand easily slid deep into my wet hole. I kept my eyes fixed on his as I began to furiously finger-fuck myself, approaching orgasm so quickly that I could hardly believe it. The room was soon filled with the smell of my juices as my fingers slid in and out, and I cried out in pleasure.
Before he had a chance to complain about being left out, I pulled my hands away and pressed down onto his waiting cock. The feeling of fullness was fabulous, and I began riding him fast and hard. As I fucked him, I reached up and untied his hands. As soon as he was free, he rolled us over and began fucking me from behind, doggy style.
He asked me to talk dirty, and I easily obliged, feeling quite dirty.
"Yes, that's it, fuck me like the whore I am, ride my tight pussy! You know I want it, so give it to me!"
"Yes, that's it, yes!" He moaned as he pounded into me, letting his weight fall into mine so that his torso pressed against my back. "More, give me more!"
"I'm about to cum, if that cock of yours just keeps pounding into me, I'm going to cum, I want to cover your cock with my slutty juices!"
"Oh, god, yes! Unghhh...."
He collapsed to the bed next to me, just as my pleasure was still flowing. I couldn't believe the power of my orgasm, and fingered my clit as I rode it out, my pussy literally dripping with my cum. He peeled off the condom and stroked his cock gently as he watched me, clearly enjoying the show.
Satisfied as I was, I had to remind myself that I was pretending to be a professional. This wasn't a date where we'd stay and cuddle. He was expecting me to collect my cash and leave, and I had a hotel room of my own to get back to - just a few floors away. I said my goodbyes, grabbed my clothes and my cash, and rode the elevator back to my room. The story didn't actually end there - let's just say, I took a long, long hot shower, pleasuring myself as I remembered the events of the evening.
At first, I was all business, just seeing it as a chance to prove my professionalism and work towards a promotion, so I could be doing the work I was really passionate about. My goal was to work my way up to the rank of detective, so I could work on really important cases, getting bank robbers and murderers off the streets. If my perfect body and my willingness to pose as a member of the oldest profession was my ticket to get there, so be it.
I should probably take a moment to share a bit more detail about what my work entailed. I was never actually at risk of following through on the act in question with the guys who picked me up. My job was to look the part, walk the street, reel the guys in, and then signal my backup as soon as the john had offered me money for sex.
I showed up to work late each afternoon, dressed in whatever jeans and t-shirt I had thrown on at home, and selected an appropriate wardrobe from the strange assortment of slutty outfits we'd put together at the station. Some days it would be red leather, some days black, sometimes I'd go with the red wig, other times blonde. The key was that I look as inviting as possible, while disguising my actual identity.
Beyond the clothes, wigs, and makeup, though, it didn't take much for me to look the part. At 22, I was in perfect shape - well-proportioned at 5'7" and 120 pounds, nice perky tits, long legs, and a great ass - so my boyfriend always told me, anyway. I had lived a fairly straight-laced life up to this point, so I have to admit I was a little shocked each time I looked in the mirror when I was dressed for the street.
The first few times I went out, I was a little scared, but any feelings of worry quickly wore off as I got used to the routine of signalling for the arrest. Strange as it may sound, it actually got a little dull, as I never did more than just hop in a stranger's car, talk for a few seconds, and then get back out once the backup car's siren went off.
The most enjoyable part of the task for me was choosing the slutty outfit and strutting up and down the street corner, as it was a unique experience for me to act in a such a blatantly sexual way. In fact, before long, this part of the job started to turn me on. Even though it was all an act, and I was being paid to catch these poor suckers, rather than to fuck them, I couldn't help enjoying all the attention as they drove by, honking and hollering at my hot body.
And soon, I found myself quite frustrated, shocked at the realization that at least a small, dirty part of me wanted to follow through on one of these transactions. It was when I started fantasizing about it, imagining a stranger paying me for sex as my boyfriend fucked me to orgasm, that I realized I owed it to myself to live out this fantasy, at least once.
Knowing everyone in vice in this town, I knew I'd need to go elsewhere - the risk of being caught by a colleague was just too great. I quickly decided on Vegas, figuring I could make a quick trip some weekend when my boyfriend was going out of town for business, and catching a little of the 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas' action without anyone finding out.
Three weeks after I'd made this decision, the opportunity finally presented itself. In the meantime, I'd made a trip to one of the local adult shops, picking out my outfit for the trip - a black leather bustier and mini skirt, matching knee-high boots, and crotchless fishnet tights. I was so turned on by shopping for the clothes that I fingered myself to a breathless orgasm in the dressing room as I tried them on.
I packed my bag, which contained little more than that outfit and a fresh supply of condoms, and hopped the quick flight, checking into the hotel I'd chosen near a likely street corner. I'd done my research in advance, thinking the safest bet would be to target a convention crowd - straight-laced guys interested in a fun time away from the wife or girlfriend - rather than a seedier part of town where I might risk running into a psycho.
I hung out in my hotel room for a few hours, waiting for dusk to arrive, but also gathering up my courage. As excited as I'd been about this scenario for the past several weeks, I was suddenly nervous once it was actually within sight. I showered, played with my long brown hair for a while before finally settling on two youthful pigtails, and then slipped into my skin-tight leather outfit.
I was only on the street for a few minutes before the first car pulled over, and I chickened out, pretending to ignore the driver's advances as if I dressed like this every night and was on my way somewhere. A few more cars slowed as they passed me, and finally I took a deep breath and decided to respond to the next guy who pulled over.
It was a silver sedan, a rental car, I noticed, thinking that to be a good sign, clearly someone in town for business. The driver pulled around the corner to a side street before stopping, so that I had to walk several steps to catch up with him before leaning down to look at him through the passenger window he'd opened. I was pleased with what I saw, a handsome and well-dressed man of about 40 with a kind face. This was my chance, no backing out now.
"Hey, honey, looking for a good time?"
"Sure, baby," the stranger replied to my breasts, "why don't you come in out of the cold."
"Just one thing before I get in," I said coyly, "you're not a cop, are you?"
"Nope, just a regular guy in town for a conference, looking for a little fun after a boring day of meetings! What about you," he said with a chuckle, "you're not undercover, are you?"
I felt myself blush, but quickly pulled myself together and got into the car next to him. I couldn't believe the rush, the dialogue no longer just a script I'd been trained to follow.
"Are you kidding, with a body like this?" I spread my legs in the seat next to him, and his eyes followed my hands as they traced their way up my thighs. I was pretending to do my hooker act, but in fact I was so turned on that I couldn't keep my hands off myself.
"So, what's your name?" I asked him.
"Richard, what's yours?"
"You can call me Danielle," I replied, surprised at myself but even more turned on after giving him my real name. "So, what would you like?"
"What do you do?"
"Anything you can afford."
He leaned over and whispered a naughty scenario in my ear, and I blushed once again.
"Hmm, no problem, if you've got 200 bucks. I assume your hotel is nearby?"
He responded by sitting back behind the wheel and making a quick turn at the next intersection, going around the block, just as I'd feared, to pull into the garage of the same hotel where I was staying. Oh well, it would make for an easy return "home" once my job was complete! Just before we entered the parking garage, I heard the familiar "whoop" of a police siren, and had to grit my teeth to keep from jumping out of my skin. A quick glance in the side mirror confirmed that it was a speeding motorist, not a naughty out-of-town vice cop, that they were after. Whew.
As soon as we were in his room, he pulled two crisp hundreds out of his wallet and put them on the table by the door. I could have jumped him right then, excited as I was at the naughty prospect of being paid for sex, but reminded myself that I had been hired for a job, and he'd been quite specific about his desires.
I went to the wardrobe and pulled out the silk ties he'd told me would be there, as he quickly stripped naked. He laid down on the bed, and I climbed on top of him, slowly tying each of his hands to the headboard.
Once his hands were tied, I stood back up and began a slow, sexy strip, peeling out of the tight, hot leather, but leaving on the boots and fishnets, just as he'd instructed. I watched his cock harden as he watched me, and felt the juices already flowing from my pussy. I couldn't wait any longer, and climbed onto the bed, taking his cock first into my hands and then into my mouth.
He moaned in pleasure as I slowly engulfed his length, and then began bobbing up and down on him as my fingers tickled his balls. I was just able to manage his length and girth, taking him completely into my throat with each stroke. I sucked him off for a few more minutes, before he pushed me away, wanting to move on to his next desire before he shot his load.
I stood up on the bed, giving him a great view up my long, sexy legs to my wet pussy. Unzipping one of my boots just a bit, I fished out one of the condoms I had packed for my trip. Kneeling back down above him, ripped the package open with my teeth and stroked his cock as I slid the condom on.
With his cock jutting upward from his body and his hands still tied, I began touching myself as he had instructed, while he watched, helpless to do anything but watch the excitement build. I began by playing with my tits, fondling them in my hands and pressing each nipple upwards to meet my outstretched tongue.
Soon, I couldn't help but let my hands fall to my pussy. Two fingers explored my clit while three fingers of the other hand easily slid deep into my wet hole. I kept my eyes fixed on his as I began to furiously finger-fuck myself, approaching orgasm so quickly that I could hardly believe it. The room was soon filled with the smell of my juices as my fingers slid in and out, and I cried out in pleasure.
Before he had a chance to complain about being left out, I pulled my hands away and pressed down onto his waiting cock. The feeling of fullness was fabulous, and I began riding him fast and hard. As I fucked him, I reached up and untied his hands. As soon as he was free, he rolled us over and began fucking me from behind, doggy style.
He asked me to talk dirty, and I easily obliged, feeling quite dirty.
"Yes, that's it, fuck me like the whore I am, ride my tight pussy! You know I want it, so give it to me!"
"Yes, that's it, yes!" He moaned as he pounded into me, letting his weight fall into mine so that his torso pressed against my back. "More, give me more!"
"I'm about to cum, if that cock of yours just keeps pounding into me, I'm going to cum, I want to cover your cock with my slutty juices!"
"Oh, god, yes! Unghhh...."
He collapsed to the bed next to me, just as my pleasure was still flowing. I couldn't believe the power of my orgasm, and fingered my clit as I rode it out, my pussy literally dripping with my cum. He peeled off the condom and stroked his cock gently as he watched me, clearly enjoying the show.
Satisfied as I was, I had to remind myself that I was pretending to be a professional. This wasn't a date where we'd stay and cuddle. He was expecting me to collect my cash and leave, and I had a hotel room of my own to get back to - just a few floors away. I said my goodbyes, grabbed my clothes and my cash, and rode the elevator back to my room. The story didn't actually end there - let's just say, I took a long, long hot shower, pleasuring myself as I remembered the events of the evening.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
The Estate
It had been two months since I moved back, and I still didn't feel any more at home. I had lived on the estate several years ago, but that was when my grandfather and uncle were still alive, when we still had live-in servants, when I was still a teenager. It was different now, with the reality of adulthood coming a little too quickly, the mansion and grounds now a lonely responsibility.
Most people would describe my family as wealthy, but to me, it was all I had ever known. And even though it might be easy for strangers to be jealous, those who knew me well knew that I'd been through some hardships. My parents were killed in a car crash when I was young, so I'd moved from the city, from the comfort of my neighborhood, my school, my friends, out to the family's country estate, where I finished out my teenage years before going to college.
My uncle Bob, my mom's brother, took over raising me, giving me all the love and attention I'd experienced at home with my folks, but this time on an estate with a staff ready to serve every whim. They were really more like family, though, as Bob worked hard to instill in me a respect for everyone who worked for us. With virtually limitless resources and high test scores, I'd easily gotten into the ivy league school of my choice, and left this place four years ago, half thinking that I'd never come back. But here I was.
Uncle Bob passed away unexpectedly during my senior year, and left everything to me, as his only living relative. It was a remarkable gift for a young woman to inherit all this wealth, but also a tremendous burden, as I had to put on hold the plans I'd made in my last few years of school, and return home to take care of the estate. The staff I'd grown up with had moved on, either retiring or finding other work once Bob was gone, so I was faced with living in the mansion alone. Until I decided whether to stay or sell, I was bringing in strangers to handle the enormous upkeep - tending to the grounds, cleaning the pool, cooking and cleaning...
It was in this context, lonely and overwhelmed, that Jack paid me a visit. He had been the family's lawyer for the past 15 years, and had watched me grow up as he took care of their various business ventures. He was probably in his early-mid 40s now, young as he was when he first came to work for us, and he'd been a part of my life for so long, I thought of him as a family friend more than as somebody's lawyer. And as that trusted friend, he was one of the few other people who had a key to the gate.
That explains how he suddenly appeared on the pool deck, watching me as I swam a lap. The pool was truly glorious, big and blue, fitting into the surrounding slope of green, manicured lawns. Swimming had become a daily ritual for me since returning to the estate. I swam to collect my thoughts, to relax as the warm water played against my skin.
I didn't think about just how skimpy my bikini was as I stepped out of the water. Didn't think about it, that is, until I felt Jack's eyes moving over my body. The black top barely contained my 34C breasts, and the tight bottoms accentuated my perfect ass and long legs. Smiling to myself, I simply wrapped a towel around waist, wringing the water out of my long red hair and tossing it over my shoulder, where it slapped against the warm skin of my back.
"Hi, Jack. What can I do for you today?"
"Um, hi, Trish." My real name - a family name - is Patricia, but everyone calls me Trish. "I just wanted to come by and see how you're doing. Frankly, I'm worried about you here all by yourself."
"Hey, I'll be OK. I'm still just trying to decide what to do - sell the place or keep it, and if I do keep it, do I stay here or live somewhere else, just keeping it as an investment. It's a lot of choices to make, especially since I didn't think I'd have to deal with any of this anytime soon."
"I know, it's still tough to accept that Bob's gone." His voice grew quiet, and I realized that not only had I lost an uncle, Jack had lost one of his closest friends.
"But hey," I replied, trying to lighten the mood, "you've given me lots of great advice already, and I think I'm getting closer to a decision. So don't worry, I'll be fine."
"Well, OK, but I still think it's terrible you're here all by yourself. Won't you at least let me come by sometime and make you a nice dinner?"
I was honored but embarrassed that he still felt the need to work for our family. "It is tempting, but no, I can't ask you to do that."
As my eyes met his, I realized I was misjudging his motives. I could tell by the look in his eye that he genuinely wanted to have dinner with me. And then, suddenly, I felt awkward, and felt myself blush. Here I was, a hot young woman wearing just a towel, suddenly grasping that despite all we'd been through, this man was attracted to me.
He responded quickly, obviously trying to diffuse the awkwardness. "Hey, no big deal, why don't you invite a few friends over as well, and we'll make a small party of it?"
"Sure, sounds like a nice idea. I do have some old friends I've been meaning to catch up with now that I'm back. Why don't we say Saturday, that should give me a few days to line things up?"
"Great, I'll see you then. Why don't you just pull a few bottles out of the wine cellar, and I'll handle the rest!"
It wasn't until I was back in the water that I cooled off. Jeez, what was I thinking - I'd never found myself attracted to Jack before, never noticed if he did or didn't notice me in the past - but now he was all I could think about. How inappropriate was that? I chalked it up to all the emotional turmoil I'd been through in the past months, and moved on to calling a few old friends to invite them over for a quiet dinner at the estate.
It ended up being a gorgeous day, that Saturday, and I called my friends back, suggesting that under the sunny circumstances, they were welcome to bring their swimsuits. Heidi and Karen were the two I'd been able to reach who were in town and delighted to accept the invitation - we'd gone to high school together, but scattered to different colleges, so it was a reunion of sorts for us, catching up after a few years apart.
While Jack slaved away in the kitchen - well, for all I know, he'd brought in take-out and just pretended to cook - we lounged by the pool, catching up on each other's life stories, soaking up some early summer rays, and taking the occasional dip in the water. We made quite a trio - Heidi, the blonde, in a red one-piece; Karen, a brunette, in a bikini that matched her big beautiful green eyes; and I was wearing a suit of sky-blue, a light color that made even my fair, freckled skin look as though it had a bit of color.
Before long, Jack joined us, bringing out a tray of margaritas and making himself comfortable on one of the deck chairs, watching as we all dove into the water, deliberately splashing each other as we did. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Jack pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside. The thoughts I'd been trying to ignore or push away suddenly flooded back as I admired just how fit and tan he was.
Heidi looked in his direction and asked, "So, don't you want to join us? The water is nice and cool!"
"Well, I'd love to, Heidi, but I didn't get the memo about bringing swimsuits, and I don't want to spend the rest of the evening in soggy pants! I'll just watch from here."
Karen, who always did enjoy trying to shock me, replied promptly, "That's OK Jack, I'm sure Trish wouldn't mind a little skinny-dipping in her pool?"
I shot her a glance, meaning to make her knock it off, but revealing instead that I had blushed at the comment. She responded by taking things up a notch.
"Here, I'll get things started," she said, looking back at Jack as she tugged at the strings of her bikini top, tossing it aside and allowing her breasts to pop free and float on the water level. She always was remarkably comfortable with her body, I remembered now.
I plunged beneath the water, holding my breath as long as I could, hoping that the humiliation would be over soon, but also half-hoping that Jack would take her up on the offer.
I emerged, gasping, just in time to watch Jack stand up and pull down his pants, followed quickly by his boxers, and he now stood before us on the pool deck, completely naked. I couldn't help but admire his big strong body, and couldn't tear my eyes away from his semi-hard cock as it dangled between his legs. His eyes caught mine and he smiled, and then quickly dove in, joining us in the water.
He swam to the shallow end of the pool and sat on the steps there as the three of us surrounded him. Karen continued to be the boldest, taking his cock in her hands underwater as he began fondling her tits. Heidi and I watched, still shocked at what was happening, but quickly getting turned on and wanting to join in the fun.
I swam closer to Heidi and pulled in close, and we began running our hands over each other's bodies, first over our suits and then gradually peeling each other free of them. I had never touched another woman like this before, much less one of my best friends, but I found the whole scene so erotic, I couldn't help myself.
Jack was encouraging Karen, urging her on, telling her exactly how to fondle his balls, and she was moaning now as his hand had slid between her bikini and her skin and his fingers reached her clit. Heidi and I were watching the action as much as we could, considering that we were locked in a tight embrace, nipples grinding together, fingers finding spots of pleasure above and below the water line.
Jack gradually began to pull himself up the steps and out of the water, sitting now on the edge of the pool as Karen took his cock in her mouth and began bobbing up and down on his long, hard shaft. Heidi and I swam over to join them, taking turns pleasuring each of them, fingering his balls, probing Karen's exposed pussy, as everyone's excitement rose.
After a few glorious minutes of this orgy, our moans beginning to drown out the splash of the water, we climbed out of the pool to continue things on dry land. Jack sat on one chair, and I claimed the one next to him, as Karen lowered herself onto his cock and Heidi straddled me. As Karen cried out at the feeling of fullness and began to ride him furiously, Heidi and I watched, grinding our clits together. I was quickly overwhelmed and came in just a few minutes, shockingly turned on by the feel of another woman grinding on me as I watched one of my best friends fuck Jack.
But I wanted my turn as well. I was eager to feel his thick hard cock buried in my tight little pussy, to be the one turning on my friends as I fucked right in front of them. When Karen cried out in pleasure, I knew I would soon have my turn. Just as soon as she had climbed off of him, I quickly replaced her, straddling Jack and burying his cock inside of me in one fast, smooth motion.
Heidi whimpered when I left her alone on the chair, but Karen soon joined her, kneeling between her legs and licking her wet pussy lips as I began to fuck Jack with more abandon. Our skin slapped together as I pounded up and down on his shaft, and Heidi giggled with pleasure as she watched and felt Karen's fingers begin to probe her pussy.
The pleasure building inside of me, I stopped moving up and down and began rocking my hips back and forth, Jack's cock buried deep in my pussy. After enjoying these new sensations for a few moments, he took the opportunity to change our position. We both stood up, walked close to the other chair, where Karen was still going down on Heidi, and Jack spun me around.
I bent over, my hair and my tits in Heidi's face, and spread my legs just in time for Jack to pound into me from behind. I thanked my uncle for investing in so many acres as I screamed out in pleasure. Karen now stood up and straddled Heidi, allowing them to grind together as Heidi and I had before, as they both watched Jack fuck me furiously.
I felt a powerful orgasm grow from deep inside, and was helpless even to remain standing, having to rely on my friends to keep me upright as I rode out wave after wave of pleasure. My clenching pussy pushed Jack over the edge as well, and he pulled out of me just in time to cum all over Heidi and Karen's waiting tits. They continued to push each other towards orgasm, grinding together and fingering each other furiously until they both climaxed as I collapsed in the chair next to them, panting.
With a mock frown, Jack said to me, "Too bad about the margaritas, it looks like the ice melted."
"Don't worry," I replied. "There's some nice wine waiting for us inside. But more importantly, you've just convinced me to keep the estate after all!"
Most people would describe my family as wealthy, but to me, it was all I had ever known. And even though it might be easy for strangers to be jealous, those who knew me well knew that I'd been through some hardships. My parents were killed in a car crash when I was young, so I'd moved from the city, from the comfort of my neighborhood, my school, my friends, out to the family's country estate, where I finished out my teenage years before going to college.
My uncle Bob, my mom's brother, took over raising me, giving me all the love and attention I'd experienced at home with my folks, but this time on an estate with a staff ready to serve every whim. They were really more like family, though, as Bob worked hard to instill in me a respect for everyone who worked for us. With virtually limitless resources and high test scores, I'd easily gotten into the ivy league school of my choice, and left this place four years ago, half thinking that I'd never come back. But here I was.
Uncle Bob passed away unexpectedly during my senior year, and left everything to me, as his only living relative. It was a remarkable gift for a young woman to inherit all this wealth, but also a tremendous burden, as I had to put on hold the plans I'd made in my last few years of school, and return home to take care of the estate. The staff I'd grown up with had moved on, either retiring or finding other work once Bob was gone, so I was faced with living in the mansion alone. Until I decided whether to stay or sell, I was bringing in strangers to handle the enormous upkeep - tending to the grounds, cleaning the pool, cooking and cleaning...
It was in this context, lonely and overwhelmed, that Jack paid me a visit. He had been the family's lawyer for the past 15 years, and had watched me grow up as he took care of their various business ventures. He was probably in his early-mid 40s now, young as he was when he first came to work for us, and he'd been a part of my life for so long, I thought of him as a family friend more than as somebody's lawyer. And as that trusted friend, he was one of the few other people who had a key to the gate.
That explains how he suddenly appeared on the pool deck, watching me as I swam a lap. The pool was truly glorious, big and blue, fitting into the surrounding slope of green, manicured lawns. Swimming had become a daily ritual for me since returning to the estate. I swam to collect my thoughts, to relax as the warm water played against my skin.
I didn't think about just how skimpy my bikini was as I stepped out of the water. Didn't think about it, that is, until I felt Jack's eyes moving over my body. The black top barely contained my 34C breasts, and the tight bottoms accentuated my perfect ass and long legs. Smiling to myself, I simply wrapped a towel around waist, wringing the water out of my long red hair and tossing it over my shoulder, where it slapped against the warm skin of my back.
"Hi, Jack. What can I do for you today?"
"Um, hi, Trish." My real name - a family name - is Patricia, but everyone calls me Trish. "I just wanted to come by and see how you're doing. Frankly, I'm worried about you here all by yourself."
"Hey, I'll be OK. I'm still just trying to decide what to do - sell the place or keep it, and if I do keep it, do I stay here or live somewhere else, just keeping it as an investment. It's a lot of choices to make, especially since I didn't think I'd have to deal with any of this anytime soon."
"I know, it's still tough to accept that Bob's gone." His voice grew quiet, and I realized that not only had I lost an uncle, Jack had lost one of his closest friends.
"But hey," I replied, trying to lighten the mood, "you've given me lots of great advice already, and I think I'm getting closer to a decision. So don't worry, I'll be fine."
"Well, OK, but I still think it's terrible you're here all by yourself. Won't you at least let me come by sometime and make you a nice dinner?"
I was honored but embarrassed that he still felt the need to work for our family. "It is tempting, but no, I can't ask you to do that."
As my eyes met his, I realized I was misjudging his motives. I could tell by the look in his eye that he genuinely wanted to have dinner with me. And then, suddenly, I felt awkward, and felt myself blush. Here I was, a hot young woman wearing just a towel, suddenly grasping that despite all we'd been through, this man was attracted to me.
He responded quickly, obviously trying to diffuse the awkwardness. "Hey, no big deal, why don't you invite a few friends over as well, and we'll make a small party of it?"
"Sure, sounds like a nice idea. I do have some old friends I've been meaning to catch up with now that I'm back. Why don't we say Saturday, that should give me a few days to line things up?"
"Great, I'll see you then. Why don't you just pull a few bottles out of the wine cellar, and I'll handle the rest!"
It wasn't until I was back in the water that I cooled off. Jeez, what was I thinking - I'd never found myself attracted to Jack before, never noticed if he did or didn't notice me in the past - but now he was all I could think about. How inappropriate was that? I chalked it up to all the emotional turmoil I'd been through in the past months, and moved on to calling a few old friends to invite them over for a quiet dinner at the estate.
It ended up being a gorgeous day, that Saturday, and I called my friends back, suggesting that under the sunny circumstances, they were welcome to bring their swimsuits. Heidi and Karen were the two I'd been able to reach who were in town and delighted to accept the invitation - we'd gone to high school together, but scattered to different colleges, so it was a reunion of sorts for us, catching up after a few years apart.
While Jack slaved away in the kitchen - well, for all I know, he'd brought in take-out and just pretended to cook - we lounged by the pool, catching up on each other's life stories, soaking up some early summer rays, and taking the occasional dip in the water. We made quite a trio - Heidi, the blonde, in a red one-piece; Karen, a brunette, in a bikini that matched her big beautiful green eyes; and I was wearing a suit of sky-blue, a light color that made even my fair, freckled skin look as though it had a bit of color.
Before long, Jack joined us, bringing out a tray of margaritas and making himself comfortable on one of the deck chairs, watching as we all dove into the water, deliberately splashing each other as we did. I watched out of the corner of my eye as Jack pulled off his shirt, tossing it aside. The thoughts I'd been trying to ignore or push away suddenly flooded back as I admired just how fit and tan he was.
Heidi looked in his direction and asked, "So, don't you want to join us? The water is nice and cool!"
"Well, I'd love to, Heidi, but I didn't get the memo about bringing swimsuits, and I don't want to spend the rest of the evening in soggy pants! I'll just watch from here."
Karen, who always did enjoy trying to shock me, replied promptly, "That's OK Jack, I'm sure Trish wouldn't mind a little skinny-dipping in her pool?"
I shot her a glance, meaning to make her knock it off, but revealing instead that I had blushed at the comment. She responded by taking things up a notch.
"Here, I'll get things started," she said, looking back at Jack as she tugged at the strings of her bikini top, tossing it aside and allowing her breasts to pop free and float on the water level. She always was remarkably comfortable with her body, I remembered now.
I plunged beneath the water, holding my breath as long as I could, hoping that the humiliation would be over soon, but also half-hoping that Jack would take her up on the offer.
I emerged, gasping, just in time to watch Jack stand up and pull down his pants, followed quickly by his boxers, and he now stood before us on the pool deck, completely naked. I couldn't help but admire his big strong body, and couldn't tear my eyes away from his semi-hard cock as it dangled between his legs. His eyes caught mine and he smiled, and then quickly dove in, joining us in the water.
He swam to the shallow end of the pool and sat on the steps there as the three of us surrounded him. Karen continued to be the boldest, taking his cock in her hands underwater as he began fondling her tits. Heidi and I watched, still shocked at what was happening, but quickly getting turned on and wanting to join in the fun.
I swam closer to Heidi and pulled in close, and we began running our hands over each other's bodies, first over our suits and then gradually peeling each other free of them. I had never touched another woman like this before, much less one of my best friends, but I found the whole scene so erotic, I couldn't help myself.
Jack was encouraging Karen, urging her on, telling her exactly how to fondle his balls, and she was moaning now as his hand had slid between her bikini and her skin and his fingers reached her clit. Heidi and I were watching the action as much as we could, considering that we were locked in a tight embrace, nipples grinding together, fingers finding spots of pleasure above and below the water line.
Jack gradually began to pull himself up the steps and out of the water, sitting now on the edge of the pool as Karen took his cock in her mouth and began bobbing up and down on his long, hard shaft. Heidi and I swam over to join them, taking turns pleasuring each of them, fingering his balls, probing Karen's exposed pussy, as everyone's excitement rose.
After a few glorious minutes of this orgy, our moans beginning to drown out the splash of the water, we climbed out of the pool to continue things on dry land. Jack sat on one chair, and I claimed the one next to him, as Karen lowered herself onto his cock and Heidi straddled me. As Karen cried out at the feeling of fullness and began to ride him furiously, Heidi and I watched, grinding our clits together. I was quickly overwhelmed and came in just a few minutes, shockingly turned on by the feel of another woman grinding on me as I watched one of my best friends fuck Jack.
But I wanted my turn as well. I was eager to feel his thick hard cock buried in my tight little pussy, to be the one turning on my friends as I fucked right in front of them. When Karen cried out in pleasure, I knew I would soon have my turn. Just as soon as she had climbed off of him, I quickly replaced her, straddling Jack and burying his cock inside of me in one fast, smooth motion.
Heidi whimpered when I left her alone on the chair, but Karen soon joined her, kneeling between her legs and licking her wet pussy lips as I began to fuck Jack with more abandon. Our skin slapped together as I pounded up and down on his shaft, and Heidi giggled with pleasure as she watched and felt Karen's fingers begin to probe her pussy.
The pleasure building inside of me, I stopped moving up and down and began rocking my hips back and forth, Jack's cock buried deep in my pussy. After enjoying these new sensations for a few moments, he took the opportunity to change our position. We both stood up, walked close to the other chair, where Karen was still going down on Heidi, and Jack spun me around.
I bent over, my hair and my tits in Heidi's face, and spread my legs just in time for Jack to pound into me from behind. I thanked my uncle for investing in so many acres as I screamed out in pleasure. Karen now stood up and straddled Heidi, allowing them to grind together as Heidi and I had before, as they both watched Jack fuck me furiously.
I felt a powerful orgasm grow from deep inside, and was helpless even to remain standing, having to rely on my friends to keep me upright as I rode out wave after wave of pleasure. My clenching pussy pushed Jack over the edge as well, and he pulled out of me just in time to cum all over Heidi and Karen's waiting tits. They continued to push each other towards orgasm, grinding together and fingering each other furiously until they both climaxed as I collapsed in the chair next to them, panting.
With a mock frown, Jack said to me, "Too bad about the margaritas, it looks like the ice melted."
"Don't worry," I replied. "There's some nice wine waiting for us inside. But more importantly, you've just convinced me to keep the estate after all!"
Friday, October 3, 2008
Whoreticulture
I was new in town, a 22-year-old professional fresh out of college and recently relocated with no connections other than my Facebook friends, who were all over 1,000 miles away. My new job was great, and I had a fabulous condo overlooking the water, but I was still finding myself alone and unfulfilled. And it's not like I didn't have opportunities to go out - there were lots of evenings out after work, having drinks with colleagues, or the company box at the baseball games, but it still wasn't enough.
Over the Sunday paper at my favorite local coffee house, I mapped out some activities for the next week that would get me out, cirulating with a different crowd. On Tuesday, I found myself at a benefit concert for the university hospital. Thursday, it was a neighborhood council meeting. And Friday, I met Jeff at a horticultural lecture at the Washington Arboretum. I wasn't particularly interested in the lecture, I had to admit, but I thought it might be a nice chance to meet a different type of person, perhaps a bit more cultured crowd.
Jeff was, I guessed, in his late 40's, with an athletic build, dashing good looks, and an impressive wardrobe to match. He was there alone, but seemed to know all of the important people, as he mingled effortlessly, chatting up the room. Very clearly, he was gay. But I still found myself sucked in by his charm, and we found ourselves talking for at least an hour over the open bar, until we were finally, politely, asked to leave.
"So, Emily," he said as we walked through the dark parking lot to our cars, "I take it horticulture isn't your passion?"
"Well, frankly, Jeff, I haven't found my passion yet! I just know that I'm interested in experiencing more of the city's cultural offerings?"
"I'd be happy to help. You know, I'm a season ticket holder for both the symphony and the ballet, and I'm always looking for new friends to accompany me!"
"I would love that. Here's my number, please feel free to give me a call the next time you have a free ticket!"
It was less than a week later that I heard from him, and our first 'date' was a string quartet recital. I was excited, but just as uninformed as I had been when it came to the horticultural lecture - classical music was just as much Greek to me! But Jeff was great - patient in explaining to me everything from concert hall etiquette to interesting tidbits about the composers' biographies. It was a wonderful evening, free of the stress of an actual date, with no sexual tension to get in the way of enjoying a beautiful night out.
A few weeks later, we spent an evening at the ballet. By this point, we'd had some nice phone conversations, met for coffee a few times (it turned out that he worked not far from my office) and I was beginning to value him not just as my own personal cultural mentor, but as my first real friend in town.
I told a few of my old college friends about him over e-mail, and was met with the expected "all the great ones are either gay or taken, huh?" to which I could only respond in the affirmative. But I truly didn't think of him in those terms - not that he wasn't attractive, as he certainly was. In fact, I often blushed when I felt his eyes move over my body when he picked me up for an evening out - before reminding myself that gay guys are often fashion buffs, and he was probably just admiring my little black dress.
Anyway, enough of that. After a few more nights out on the highbrow town, he invited me over to his place for dinner and some music - turned out he was secretly a fine cellist, though he didn't advertise the fact until he felt truly comfortable with someone. I was honored that he had decided to extend the invitation, and didn't hesitate to accept. Even though it would just be the two of us, I dressed up, not wanting to let him down, and bought a nice bottle of wine on my way over.
I waited for just a moment outside his door before he answered my knock, and was greeted with the usual complement of my appearance, his deep blue eyes taking in my blonde hair done up in a fancy up-do, my fitted black knit dress clinging to my curves, a colorful silk scarf draped over my shoulders.
"Wow, don't you look great, Emily!"
"Thanks, Jeff! And wow, it smells wonderful in here, what have you cooked for us?"
"Ah, that's a surprise. For now, please just make yourself at home. Can I pour you a glass of wine - that's a wonderful vintage you picked out, by the way!"
"Sure," I said, sitting down on his sofa as he disappeared into the kitchen. Everything about his home fit what I already knew of his personality. Clean and organized, but also full of interesting artwork, meticulously tended plants, shelves bursting with books. And then there was his cello, sitting on its side on the floor, next to a chair and a music stand overwhelmed with sheet music.
He returned, handed me a glass of wine, and without a word, sat down on that chair, picked up that cello, and began to play. I was immediately taken in, partly because the music was beautiful, but mostly by watching him play, his long limbs wrapped around the instrument, his legs moving with it with each phrase, his arm coaxing the sound out as he stroked it with the bow.
His words broke the silence, before I realized I had lost myself in the moment. "Did you enjoy that?"
"Oh, um, yes, Jeff! I'm sorry, I got a little lost there, the music was so beautiful!"
"You did look like you went into another world there for a minute, what were you thinking?"
"Well, frankly, I had no idea the playing the cello was so sensual. Um..."
"No, don't be bashful, you're absolutely right. Here, would you like to try it?"
"Oh, no, I would sound terrible - I've never played an instrument before!"
"No, I insist. It's worth experiencing the feeling, if only just once."
Not wanting to offend, I decided to go along with the idea, even though I was afraid I would elicit a sound more like strangling cats than like the Mozart piece he had shared with me earlier. He showed me how to sit in the chair, how to position the big instrument between my legs, my dress sliding up my thighs as I did so, and how to hold the bow and pull it across the string.
The first sound was actually worse than strangling cats, but he soon came to my rescue, standing behind me and taking my hand in his to show me how to guide the bow more gently, resulting in a sound somewhat resembling a musical note. I looked up at him and smiled, delighted at my small accomplishment, and blushed as his eyes locked on mine.
"So, Emily, are there any other feelings you'd like to experience tonight?"
"Um, I'm not sure I know what you mean?"
"You must think I'm too old for you, is that it?"
"Uh, you've lost me, Jeff. I mean, aren't you..." I was confused, still convinced he was gay, but suddenly shy about saying it aloud. And his eyes, still looking deep into mine, betrayed a desire most certainly not platonic.
He didn't answer, instead taking the bow from my hand and placing it gently on the coffee table. His hands now rested on my shoulders, rubbing first gently, then with some firmness, and I arched my back and allowed my head to fall back against his stomach. The cello still rested between my legs, forcing them apart and leaving my dress high up on my thighs. I wasn't sure where this was going, but I decided to play along.
Before I knew what he was doing, Jeff had loosened the clip from my hair so that my carefully designed up-do cascaded down around my shoulders. His firm hands now moved down to my breasts, cupping them through the fabric of my dress and massaging them gently. I sighed in response, and he continued, stopping only to take hold of the cello and set it aside.
I took the opportunity to stand up from the chair, although I kept my back to him, loving the feel of having his hands envelop my body just as they had the cello. He bent down and licked my earlobe, gradually tracing down my neck, as his hands were busy untying the fabric knot at the back of my neck. Once loosened, his hands easily found their way inside my dress, now cupping my tits skin-on-skin. I closed my eyes and soaked up the sensational feeling as his expert hands massaged me. Instinctively, I ground my hips into his, feeling his bulge press against my ass.
While he continued to fondle my breasts with one hand, his other reached down, stroking my thigh and gradually reaching towards my pussy. As my dress began to slip off my body, I encouraged him by spreading my legs, and moaned deeply when his fingers finally reached my clit and began rubbing it through my already-soaked panties.
I reached behind my back and began stroking his hard cock through his pants, as he continued to rub my clit and fondle my tits. One, then two, then three fingers found their way inside my panties, and he was now stroking me vigorously, pinching my nipples as he began to slip a finger inside my pussy. I moaned loudly and gave up my motions on his cock, letting my body weight fall into his as he brought me to new heights of pleasure.
After a few minutes, he guided me over to his large leather sofa, encouraged me to step out of my dress and panties completely, and motioned for me to sit down. Kneeling between my legs, he kissed up and down my inner thighs for a few moments before finally reaching my clit again, this time with his tongue. Aside from one crazy experiment with my roommate in college, I'd never had such an expert tongue pleasure me, and I came very quickly.
Jeff stood up and undressed, tossing his clothes aside and revealing, finally, his impressive cock, which sprang free, already erect, as soon as he pulled off his boxers. He climbed on top of me in a 69 position, his cock dangling over my mouth, and began to lick my juices from my pussy lips as I took him into my mouth.
I was quickly moaning again as he licked back and forth across my pussy, his tongue now darting in and out, but my moans were soon stifled as he pressed more and more of his length into my mouth, and into my throat. I wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and squeezed him with each of his thrusts, as his balls slapped against my skin and I squirmed in pleasure beneath him.
This was my first 69, and I was loving every second of it, as we pleasured each other for what seemed like hours, shifting positions occasionally for a new sensation. Once I found myself on top, I took advantage of the opportunity, dying to feel his cock buried deep in my pussy. After taking his entire length into my mouth a few more times, I pulled away and turned to face him, straddling him and slowly lowering myself onto his long, hard cock.
The feeling was incredible, as his cock pulsed inside of me, the biggest I had ever experienced. I alternated between rotating my hips in a long, slow circle and riding him fast and hard, shifting between the two just as I felt I was about to cum, to prolong the pleasure.
"Are you ready to cum, Emily? Do you want to feel what it's like when I really fuck you hard?"
"Oh, god yes, Jeff, I want you to pound my tight little pussy until we both cum!"
He lifted me off of his cock and we both stood up, walked around to the other side of the sofa, and he bent me over it, my swollen nipples pressing into the cold leather as he reached down and aggressively spread my legs wide apart. I was completely vulnerable now, and I knew what was coming next.
In one fast, hard motion, he pounded into me, and I cried out in pleasure at the depth of his penetration. Before I even had a chance to breathe, he began thrusting faster and faster, bringing us both very quickly to the brink of orgasm. He let his weight fall against mine, pressing me harder into the cold leather as he reached around and grabbed my tits, kneading them hard as I came, finally overwhelmed by wave after wave of pleasure.
He continued to fuck me for a few moments more, before finally jerking and spasming inside of me and pulling out to shoot his load across my ass. I remained there, too tired and too happy to move, as he returned to the other side of the sofa and collapsed there, looking up at me with smiling eyes.
"So, what were you saying earlier, you weren't sure what I meant?"
I smiled, embarrassed that I had ever thought he was gay. "Um, well, let's just say I was wrong about you. Turns out, I'm the one who's, well.... let's just say I'm a whore to culture. Get it?"
"Yes, hard to miss a pun that bad. But hey, don't call yourself a whore. A dirty little slut, maybe..."
Over the Sunday paper at my favorite local coffee house, I mapped out some activities for the next week that would get me out, cirulating with a different crowd. On Tuesday, I found myself at a benefit concert for the university hospital. Thursday, it was a neighborhood council meeting. And Friday, I met Jeff at a horticultural lecture at the Washington Arboretum. I wasn't particularly interested in the lecture, I had to admit, but I thought it might be a nice chance to meet a different type of person, perhaps a bit more cultured crowd.
Jeff was, I guessed, in his late 40's, with an athletic build, dashing good looks, and an impressive wardrobe to match. He was there alone, but seemed to know all of the important people, as he mingled effortlessly, chatting up the room. Very clearly, he was gay. But I still found myself sucked in by his charm, and we found ourselves talking for at least an hour over the open bar, until we were finally, politely, asked to leave.
"So, Emily," he said as we walked through the dark parking lot to our cars, "I take it horticulture isn't your passion?"
"Well, frankly, Jeff, I haven't found my passion yet! I just know that I'm interested in experiencing more of the city's cultural offerings?"
"I'd be happy to help. You know, I'm a season ticket holder for both the symphony and the ballet, and I'm always looking for new friends to accompany me!"
"I would love that. Here's my number, please feel free to give me a call the next time you have a free ticket!"
It was less than a week later that I heard from him, and our first 'date' was a string quartet recital. I was excited, but just as uninformed as I had been when it came to the horticultural lecture - classical music was just as much Greek to me! But Jeff was great - patient in explaining to me everything from concert hall etiquette to interesting tidbits about the composers' biographies. It was a wonderful evening, free of the stress of an actual date, with no sexual tension to get in the way of enjoying a beautiful night out.
A few weeks later, we spent an evening at the ballet. By this point, we'd had some nice phone conversations, met for coffee a few times (it turned out that he worked not far from my office) and I was beginning to value him not just as my own personal cultural mentor, but as my first real friend in town.
I told a few of my old college friends about him over e-mail, and was met with the expected "all the great ones are either gay or taken, huh?" to which I could only respond in the affirmative. But I truly didn't think of him in those terms - not that he wasn't attractive, as he certainly was. In fact, I often blushed when I felt his eyes move over my body when he picked me up for an evening out - before reminding myself that gay guys are often fashion buffs, and he was probably just admiring my little black dress.
Anyway, enough of that. After a few more nights out on the highbrow town, he invited me over to his place for dinner and some music - turned out he was secretly a fine cellist, though he didn't advertise the fact until he felt truly comfortable with someone. I was honored that he had decided to extend the invitation, and didn't hesitate to accept. Even though it would just be the two of us, I dressed up, not wanting to let him down, and bought a nice bottle of wine on my way over.
I waited for just a moment outside his door before he answered my knock, and was greeted with the usual complement of my appearance, his deep blue eyes taking in my blonde hair done up in a fancy up-do, my fitted black knit dress clinging to my curves, a colorful silk scarf draped over my shoulders.
"Wow, don't you look great, Emily!"
"Thanks, Jeff! And wow, it smells wonderful in here, what have you cooked for us?"
"Ah, that's a surprise. For now, please just make yourself at home. Can I pour you a glass of wine - that's a wonderful vintage you picked out, by the way!"
"Sure," I said, sitting down on his sofa as he disappeared into the kitchen. Everything about his home fit what I already knew of his personality. Clean and organized, but also full of interesting artwork, meticulously tended plants, shelves bursting with books. And then there was his cello, sitting on its side on the floor, next to a chair and a music stand overwhelmed with sheet music.
He returned, handed me a glass of wine, and without a word, sat down on that chair, picked up that cello, and began to play. I was immediately taken in, partly because the music was beautiful, but mostly by watching him play, his long limbs wrapped around the instrument, his legs moving with it with each phrase, his arm coaxing the sound out as he stroked it with the bow.
His words broke the silence, before I realized I had lost myself in the moment. "Did you enjoy that?"
"Oh, um, yes, Jeff! I'm sorry, I got a little lost there, the music was so beautiful!"
"You did look like you went into another world there for a minute, what were you thinking?"
"Well, frankly, I had no idea the playing the cello was so sensual. Um..."
"No, don't be bashful, you're absolutely right. Here, would you like to try it?"
"Oh, no, I would sound terrible - I've never played an instrument before!"
"No, I insist. It's worth experiencing the feeling, if only just once."
Not wanting to offend, I decided to go along with the idea, even though I was afraid I would elicit a sound more like strangling cats than like the Mozart piece he had shared with me earlier. He showed me how to sit in the chair, how to position the big instrument between my legs, my dress sliding up my thighs as I did so, and how to hold the bow and pull it across the string.
The first sound was actually worse than strangling cats, but he soon came to my rescue, standing behind me and taking my hand in his to show me how to guide the bow more gently, resulting in a sound somewhat resembling a musical note. I looked up at him and smiled, delighted at my small accomplishment, and blushed as his eyes locked on mine.
"So, Emily, are there any other feelings you'd like to experience tonight?"
"Um, I'm not sure I know what you mean?"
"You must think I'm too old for you, is that it?"
"Uh, you've lost me, Jeff. I mean, aren't you..." I was confused, still convinced he was gay, but suddenly shy about saying it aloud. And his eyes, still looking deep into mine, betrayed a desire most certainly not platonic.
He didn't answer, instead taking the bow from my hand and placing it gently on the coffee table. His hands now rested on my shoulders, rubbing first gently, then with some firmness, and I arched my back and allowed my head to fall back against his stomach. The cello still rested between my legs, forcing them apart and leaving my dress high up on my thighs. I wasn't sure where this was going, but I decided to play along.
Before I knew what he was doing, Jeff had loosened the clip from my hair so that my carefully designed up-do cascaded down around my shoulders. His firm hands now moved down to my breasts, cupping them through the fabric of my dress and massaging them gently. I sighed in response, and he continued, stopping only to take hold of the cello and set it aside.
I took the opportunity to stand up from the chair, although I kept my back to him, loving the feel of having his hands envelop my body just as they had the cello. He bent down and licked my earlobe, gradually tracing down my neck, as his hands were busy untying the fabric knot at the back of my neck. Once loosened, his hands easily found their way inside my dress, now cupping my tits skin-on-skin. I closed my eyes and soaked up the sensational feeling as his expert hands massaged me. Instinctively, I ground my hips into his, feeling his bulge press against my ass.
While he continued to fondle my breasts with one hand, his other reached down, stroking my thigh and gradually reaching towards my pussy. As my dress began to slip off my body, I encouraged him by spreading my legs, and moaned deeply when his fingers finally reached my clit and began rubbing it through my already-soaked panties.
I reached behind my back and began stroking his hard cock through his pants, as he continued to rub my clit and fondle my tits. One, then two, then three fingers found their way inside my panties, and he was now stroking me vigorously, pinching my nipples as he began to slip a finger inside my pussy. I moaned loudly and gave up my motions on his cock, letting my body weight fall into his as he brought me to new heights of pleasure.
After a few minutes, he guided me over to his large leather sofa, encouraged me to step out of my dress and panties completely, and motioned for me to sit down. Kneeling between my legs, he kissed up and down my inner thighs for a few moments before finally reaching my clit again, this time with his tongue. Aside from one crazy experiment with my roommate in college, I'd never had such an expert tongue pleasure me, and I came very quickly.
Jeff stood up and undressed, tossing his clothes aside and revealing, finally, his impressive cock, which sprang free, already erect, as soon as he pulled off his boxers. He climbed on top of me in a 69 position, his cock dangling over my mouth, and began to lick my juices from my pussy lips as I took him into my mouth.
I was quickly moaning again as he licked back and forth across my pussy, his tongue now darting in and out, but my moans were soon stifled as he pressed more and more of his length into my mouth, and into my throat. I wrapped one hand around the base of his shaft and squeezed him with each of his thrusts, as his balls slapped against my skin and I squirmed in pleasure beneath him.
This was my first 69, and I was loving every second of it, as we pleasured each other for what seemed like hours, shifting positions occasionally for a new sensation. Once I found myself on top, I took advantage of the opportunity, dying to feel his cock buried deep in my pussy. After taking his entire length into my mouth a few more times, I pulled away and turned to face him, straddling him and slowly lowering myself onto his long, hard cock.
The feeling was incredible, as his cock pulsed inside of me, the biggest I had ever experienced. I alternated between rotating my hips in a long, slow circle and riding him fast and hard, shifting between the two just as I felt I was about to cum, to prolong the pleasure.
"Are you ready to cum, Emily? Do you want to feel what it's like when I really fuck you hard?"
"Oh, god yes, Jeff, I want you to pound my tight little pussy until we both cum!"
He lifted me off of his cock and we both stood up, walked around to the other side of the sofa, and he bent me over it, my swollen nipples pressing into the cold leather as he reached down and aggressively spread my legs wide apart. I was completely vulnerable now, and I knew what was coming next.
In one fast, hard motion, he pounded into me, and I cried out in pleasure at the depth of his penetration. Before I even had a chance to breathe, he began thrusting faster and faster, bringing us both very quickly to the brink of orgasm. He let his weight fall against mine, pressing me harder into the cold leather as he reached around and grabbed my tits, kneading them hard as I came, finally overwhelmed by wave after wave of pleasure.
He continued to fuck me for a few moments more, before finally jerking and spasming inside of me and pulling out to shoot his load across my ass. I remained there, too tired and too happy to move, as he returned to the other side of the sofa and collapsed there, looking up at me with smiling eyes.
"So, what were you saying earlier, you weren't sure what I meant?"
I smiled, embarrassed that I had ever thought he was gay. "Um, well, let's just say I was wrong about you. Turns out, I'm the one who's, well.... let's just say I'm a whore to culture. Get it?"
"Yes, hard to miss a pun that bad. But hey, don't call yourself a whore. A dirty little slut, maybe..."
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Party Politics
I wasn't used to all the attention. It had been a week since I had been tapped to fill the senate seat left vacant by one of our party's most venerable politicians, unfortunately brought down by a scandal blown way out of proportion. So what if he was caught texting young boys; it didn't detract from his record of standing up for family values!
Back at the ranch, it had been a crazy time, what with my family thrown into a media circus. I should probably give you a little background. My name is Sophie. I'm first and foremost a happily married mother of three, a God-fearing Christian, and finally, the mayor of a small town in a big, conservative western state. If you follow the news, you've probably figured out who I am - but that isn't important here, I'm just interested in sharing one little piece of my story.
Until the call from the state party leaders, the biggest news item out of this small town was my effort to have some books removed from the town's public library. Now, though, CNN was camped out across the street, and I couldn't go anywhere without being forced to hold an impromptu press conference. Truth be told, I wasn't surprised at their fascination with the story. After all, I would be the first to admit I really wasn't qualified to fill the position. Not that I'd share that with these liberal media bastards...
I guess my style had caught the attention of some of the higher-ups. I was an attractive woman with a reputation of holding firm to the Republican party line. I was an engaging speaker. The camera loved me. I guess I was a perfect antidote for the PR nightmare which the old senator had brought on the state party.
Anyway, this was the setting when last weekend began. I had been invited, and given instructions on how to make the trip undetected by the media, to join a party higher-up and a major donor at a house deep in the woods, where I would be once more grilled on my policy positions, and packed full of information before my first major press conference. With my husband, my rock, on speed dial until he could join me the next day, I made the one-hour drive, arriving just after dark.
After a nice dinner and small talk about state politics, the three of us settled into comfortable chairs in the living room, beer for the men and whiskey for me, and they proceeded to explain their logic in selecting me to appoint for the position.
"I know you may feel unprepared, Sophie, but we trust you. We trust your family, and we trust your politics," John, the party official, explained. Mostly, Bob here thought a woman such as yourself would immediately appeal to a large cross-section of the population, and would be a nice safe choice after the scandal we've just been through. We hope to strengthen our support among women, and frankly, we know you appeal to men of all ages. Right, Bob?" John gestured to the other man, the party donor, clearly the real decision-maker of the two.
"Absolutely. We've been looking for the MILF candidate for years."
I smiled and raised my glass to their bottles, but I couldn't help but be confused. What on earth did 'MILF' stand for? Was this yet another government agency I'd never heard of but would have to learn about in the next two days? I excused myself, running to another room to call my husband.
"Hi, honey," I said sweetly when he answered. "Things are going fine here, I just have one question."
"OK, shoot!"
"What's a 'MILF'?"
"Ooh, um, well, dear, did those guys use the term to refer to you?"
"Yes, is that a good thing?"
"Well, I'll spare you the details, but let's just say they're referring to your sex appeal. I must say, I'm a little nervous, leaving you there alone with a couple of powerful men!"
"Oh, don't be silly. I would never do anything like that without you here to watch!"
His cell phone cut out at that point, so I was left to my own devices, and returned to the living room to join the men, who had moved on to another drink. We continued talking, covering several vital social issues, such as how to keep homosexuals marginalized, before moving on to foreign policy, an area where I really, desperately needed education.
Bob took a few minutes to explain his priorities in those regards, with John nodding his head in agreement every few moments. I took careful mental notes, but was still feeling insecure about whether I could remember all of this new information, whether I could hold my own when talking to the media. I decided it was time to return to a position of comfort.
"So, guys, could we call it a night on the political talk? Maybe get started again in the morning? I really appreciate your confidence in me and the time you're taking to get me prepped, but I think I've had about all I can take for one evening."
"Sure, no problem, Sophie. We can start again in the morning. If you'd like to turn in, the bedrooms are down the hall," Bob said, pointing to his right.
"Well, that's not exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking it might be time I put my mouth where your money is."
"Um, what?"
"Well, you said I was the 'MILF' candidate you'd been looking for - I thought your vote of confidence in me might be worth a little action, right here, tonight."
Before he could speak, I dropped from my chair to my knees, unbuttoning my jacket as I did so, revealing my lacy bra beneath. Both men gasped, and I proceeded to crawl over to Bob, my dark brown hair still in its tidy up-do, my smart glasses still on my nose, but a seductive grin on my face.
Before he could protest - as if he ever would have - I unzipped Bob's slacks and fished his hardening cock out of his boxers. He certainly didn't protest at this point, sliding down in his chair to give me better access as I wrapped my mouth around his shaft. Slowly, gently, I engulfed his entire length, feeling it grow inside my mouth as I licked and sucked. Before long, the tip of his firm cock reached into my throat, and I began bobbing up and down on him, to his obvious satisfaction.
Meanwhile, I heard John's footsteps behind me as he rose from his chair and approached us. My aggressively slutty actions obviously gave him an open invitation to join us, and before long, I could feel his touch. He removed the clip from my hair and gathered my long brown locks in his hands, pulling together a tight ponytail which he used to control my motions on Bob's cock. He kneeled behind me, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel his hard bulge against my ass as I continued pleasuring Bob.
Just as quickly as he had grabbed it, John let go of my hair, and I felt him stand up, and heard his zipper as he freed himself from his slacks. Bob stood up, pulling me with him, and as I continued to suck him off, I felt John position himself behind me. He shoved my tight wool skirt up to my waist and began rubbing me through the fabric of my panties. I quickly responded, gyrating my hips in rhythm to his fingers, and he in turn responded by pushing the panties aside and touching me directly.
I groaned deeply as his fingers reached my skin, and hoped he couldn't wait any longer. John quickly replaced his fingers with his cock, rubbing it against my pussy lips, lubricating himself with my already-flowing juices, before finally pressing into me with one long, gentle motion.
"Ahhhhhh," I moaned, the sound muffled as my mouth was still busy on Bob's throbbing cock. We continued in this position for a few minutes, John fucking me from behind as I sucked off Bob. We then made a quick switch, as I turned around, allowing Bob to now take me from behind as I licked my own juices from John's even more impressive cock.
We switched once more, gradually increasing the intensity of both fucking and sucking, before Bob and John suddenly noticed that my husband had arrived and was standing in the corner of the room. Both men froze, horrified that he would be upset, fearing the worst - the jealous husband uncovering, and then leaking to the press, yet another Republican sex scandal.
But soon, they picked up on our vibe. The fact that I continued to bob up and down on whichever cock was in my mouth at that moment, I can't frankly remember. The fact that my husband Bill was now stroking himself at the sight of his wife pleasuring two men simultaneously.
"Don't worry," Bill said, "we won't make the mistake the last guy did, the mistake of getting caught! I know how hot Sophie is, and it's even hotter to share her."
Before either man could cum, it was time to change positions again. This time, I wanted Bill to be part of the action. I guided John to lie on the floor beneath me, while I lowered myself onto his hard cock and rode him slowly. Bob knelt behind me and began probing my ass with his fingers, preparing it for something larger - his eager cock.
I tightened at first, but looked deep into my husband's approving eyes and relaxed, allowing two of Bob's fingers to slide easily into my virgin hole as he spread my ass cheeks apart. While Bill began to peel off his clothes, Bob replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock, pressing it gently against my asshole as I continued to ride John, more slowly now.
Before I knew it, two cocks were pressing into me at once - a major donor and a party official plowing into me, their MILF candidate of choice, as I panted in a combination of pleasure and pain. Bill's cock was already jutting out from his body, as he was obviously overwhelmed at the sight of his wife being taken by two strange men.
I looked at him longingly, motioning for him to come closer, and I sucked his cock into my mouth as soon as I could reach it. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me down onto his entire shaft, my nose reaching his belly as the tip of his cock entered my throat. I could hardly breathe, my mouth full of cock as the other men began pounding my pussy and ass more fiercely.
My first orgasm hit at that moment, my senses completely overwhelmed as these three middle-aged men pounded their cocks into my eager holes. I lost all control, spasming violently, but held in place by their rhythmic thrusts as they each reached towards their own climaxes.
John was the first to cum, as I felt his cock jerk inside my pussy just as my own climax had subsided. He remained inside of me as Bob continued to pound my ass, all of my initial pain now gone. After another few moments, he pulled out of me and shot his load all over my back, his warm, sticky cum dripping down my ass cheeks.
I now devoted all of my attention to Bill's cock, expertly stroking his shaft with one hand and fondling his balls with the other, just as he had trained me to do in years of practice. All of his length pressed into my mouth with each of his rapid strokes. As he fucked my mouth, I continued to gather pleasure from the cocks still buried inside my pussy and ass, gyrating my hips as I moved with each stroke.
I came again, this orgasm more powerful than the first, groaning and gasping around my husband's cock as the waves of pleasure overcame me. This pushed him over the edge as well, as he pulled out of my mouth and shot his ample load all over my face and chest. Still catching my breath, I revelled in the naughtiness of the moment, my first foursome with three cocks filling my waiting holes.
Clearly, we weren't holding ourselves to the standard of the morality our party liked to legislate on others. What happened in meetings behind closed doors could remain just there.
"Well, Sophie," John said once we had pulled ourselves away from our orgy, you've clearly shown that you can take it from all angles. I think you're ready to face the press now!"
Back at the ranch, it had been a crazy time, what with my family thrown into a media circus. I should probably give you a little background. My name is Sophie. I'm first and foremost a happily married mother of three, a God-fearing Christian, and finally, the mayor of a small town in a big, conservative western state. If you follow the news, you've probably figured out who I am - but that isn't important here, I'm just interested in sharing one little piece of my story.
Until the call from the state party leaders, the biggest news item out of this small town was my effort to have some books removed from the town's public library. Now, though, CNN was camped out across the street, and I couldn't go anywhere without being forced to hold an impromptu press conference. Truth be told, I wasn't surprised at their fascination with the story. After all, I would be the first to admit I really wasn't qualified to fill the position. Not that I'd share that with these liberal media bastards...
I guess my style had caught the attention of some of the higher-ups. I was an attractive woman with a reputation of holding firm to the Republican party line. I was an engaging speaker. The camera loved me. I guess I was a perfect antidote for the PR nightmare which the old senator had brought on the state party.
Anyway, this was the setting when last weekend began. I had been invited, and given instructions on how to make the trip undetected by the media, to join a party higher-up and a major donor at a house deep in the woods, where I would be once more grilled on my policy positions, and packed full of information before my first major press conference. With my husband, my rock, on speed dial until he could join me the next day, I made the one-hour drive, arriving just after dark.
After a nice dinner and small talk about state politics, the three of us settled into comfortable chairs in the living room, beer for the men and whiskey for me, and they proceeded to explain their logic in selecting me to appoint for the position.
"I know you may feel unprepared, Sophie, but we trust you. We trust your family, and we trust your politics," John, the party official, explained. Mostly, Bob here thought a woman such as yourself would immediately appeal to a large cross-section of the population, and would be a nice safe choice after the scandal we've just been through. We hope to strengthen our support among women, and frankly, we know you appeal to men of all ages. Right, Bob?" John gestured to the other man, the party donor, clearly the real decision-maker of the two.
"Absolutely. We've been looking for the MILF candidate for years."
I smiled and raised my glass to their bottles, but I couldn't help but be confused. What on earth did 'MILF' stand for? Was this yet another government agency I'd never heard of but would have to learn about in the next two days? I excused myself, running to another room to call my husband.
"Hi, honey," I said sweetly when he answered. "Things are going fine here, I just have one question."
"OK, shoot!"
"What's a 'MILF'?"
"Ooh, um, well, dear, did those guys use the term to refer to you?"
"Yes, is that a good thing?"
"Well, I'll spare you the details, but let's just say they're referring to your sex appeal. I must say, I'm a little nervous, leaving you there alone with a couple of powerful men!"
"Oh, don't be silly. I would never do anything like that without you here to watch!"
His cell phone cut out at that point, so I was left to my own devices, and returned to the living room to join the men, who had moved on to another drink. We continued talking, covering several vital social issues, such as how to keep homosexuals marginalized, before moving on to foreign policy, an area where I really, desperately needed education.
Bob took a few minutes to explain his priorities in those regards, with John nodding his head in agreement every few moments. I took careful mental notes, but was still feeling insecure about whether I could remember all of this new information, whether I could hold my own when talking to the media. I decided it was time to return to a position of comfort.
"So, guys, could we call it a night on the political talk? Maybe get started again in the morning? I really appreciate your confidence in me and the time you're taking to get me prepped, but I think I've had about all I can take for one evening."
"Sure, no problem, Sophie. We can start again in the morning. If you'd like to turn in, the bedrooms are down the hall," Bob said, pointing to his right.
"Well, that's not exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking it might be time I put my mouth where your money is."
"Um, what?"
"Well, you said I was the 'MILF' candidate you'd been looking for - I thought your vote of confidence in me might be worth a little action, right here, tonight."
Before he could speak, I dropped from my chair to my knees, unbuttoning my jacket as I did so, revealing my lacy bra beneath. Both men gasped, and I proceeded to crawl over to Bob, my dark brown hair still in its tidy up-do, my smart glasses still on my nose, but a seductive grin on my face.
Before he could protest - as if he ever would have - I unzipped Bob's slacks and fished his hardening cock out of his boxers. He certainly didn't protest at this point, sliding down in his chair to give me better access as I wrapped my mouth around his shaft. Slowly, gently, I engulfed his entire length, feeling it grow inside my mouth as I licked and sucked. Before long, the tip of his firm cock reached into my throat, and I began bobbing up and down on him, to his obvious satisfaction.
Meanwhile, I heard John's footsteps behind me as he rose from his chair and approached us. My aggressively slutty actions obviously gave him an open invitation to join us, and before long, I could feel his touch. He removed the clip from my hair and gathered my long brown locks in his hands, pulling together a tight ponytail which he used to control my motions on Bob's cock. He kneeled behind me, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel his hard bulge against my ass as I continued pleasuring Bob.
Just as quickly as he had grabbed it, John let go of my hair, and I felt him stand up, and heard his zipper as he freed himself from his slacks. Bob stood up, pulling me with him, and as I continued to suck him off, I felt John position himself behind me. He shoved my tight wool skirt up to my waist and began rubbing me through the fabric of my panties. I quickly responded, gyrating my hips in rhythm to his fingers, and he in turn responded by pushing the panties aside and touching me directly.
I groaned deeply as his fingers reached my skin, and hoped he couldn't wait any longer. John quickly replaced his fingers with his cock, rubbing it against my pussy lips, lubricating himself with my already-flowing juices, before finally pressing into me with one long, gentle motion.
"Ahhhhhh," I moaned, the sound muffled as my mouth was still busy on Bob's throbbing cock. We continued in this position for a few minutes, John fucking me from behind as I sucked off Bob. We then made a quick switch, as I turned around, allowing Bob to now take me from behind as I licked my own juices from John's even more impressive cock.
We switched once more, gradually increasing the intensity of both fucking and sucking, before Bob and John suddenly noticed that my husband had arrived and was standing in the corner of the room. Both men froze, horrified that he would be upset, fearing the worst - the jealous husband uncovering, and then leaking to the press, yet another Republican sex scandal.
But soon, they picked up on our vibe. The fact that I continued to bob up and down on whichever cock was in my mouth at that moment, I can't frankly remember. The fact that my husband Bill was now stroking himself at the sight of his wife pleasuring two men simultaneously.
"Don't worry," Bill said, "we won't make the mistake the last guy did, the mistake of getting caught! I know how hot Sophie is, and it's even hotter to share her."
Before either man could cum, it was time to change positions again. This time, I wanted Bill to be part of the action. I guided John to lie on the floor beneath me, while I lowered myself onto his hard cock and rode him slowly. Bob knelt behind me and began probing my ass with his fingers, preparing it for something larger - his eager cock.
I tightened at first, but looked deep into my husband's approving eyes and relaxed, allowing two of Bob's fingers to slide easily into my virgin hole as he spread my ass cheeks apart. While Bill began to peel off his clothes, Bob replaced his fingers with the tip of his cock, pressing it gently against my asshole as I continued to ride John, more slowly now.
Before I knew it, two cocks were pressing into me at once - a major donor and a party official plowing into me, their MILF candidate of choice, as I panted in a combination of pleasure and pain. Bill's cock was already jutting out from his body, as he was obviously overwhelmed at the sight of his wife being taken by two strange men.
I looked at him longingly, motioning for him to come closer, and I sucked his cock into my mouth as soon as I could reach it. He grabbed me by the hair and pulled me down onto his entire shaft, my nose reaching his belly as the tip of his cock entered my throat. I could hardly breathe, my mouth full of cock as the other men began pounding my pussy and ass more fiercely.
My first orgasm hit at that moment, my senses completely overwhelmed as these three middle-aged men pounded their cocks into my eager holes. I lost all control, spasming violently, but held in place by their rhythmic thrusts as they each reached towards their own climaxes.
John was the first to cum, as I felt his cock jerk inside my pussy just as my own climax had subsided. He remained inside of me as Bob continued to pound my ass, all of my initial pain now gone. After another few moments, he pulled out of me and shot his load all over my back, his warm, sticky cum dripping down my ass cheeks.
I now devoted all of my attention to Bill's cock, expertly stroking his shaft with one hand and fondling his balls with the other, just as he had trained me to do in years of practice. All of his length pressed into my mouth with each of his rapid strokes. As he fucked my mouth, I continued to gather pleasure from the cocks still buried inside my pussy and ass, gyrating my hips as I moved with each stroke.
I came again, this orgasm more powerful than the first, groaning and gasping around my husband's cock as the waves of pleasure overcame me. This pushed him over the edge as well, as he pulled out of my mouth and shot his ample load all over my face and chest. Still catching my breath, I revelled in the naughtiness of the moment, my first foursome with three cocks filling my waiting holes.
Clearly, we weren't holding ourselves to the standard of the morality our party liked to legislate on others. What happened in meetings behind closed doors could remain just there.
"Well, Sophie," John said once we had pulled ourselves away from our orgy, you've clearly shown that you can take it from all angles. I think you're ready to face the press now!"
Saturday, September 20, 2008
The Permit
I'm not patient. Those who know me best describe me as a determined overachiever. I put myself through school, run my own business, and just bought my first house - and I just turned 25. I'm only truly happy when I'm in control - the main reason I knew I had to go into business for myself, rather than settling for working for someone else. I'm a stickler for details and have very high standards in all that I do. And I can't rest until I know a job is done.
Which is why I insisted on serving as the contractor for the work that needed to be done on my new home. Actually, it was a very old home - a beautiful Victorian from 1890 - which needed some substantial restoration work to be brought back to its former glory. I had planned out the project, hired professionals to do the work I couldn't do myself, and was ready to get rolling, when my electrician pointed out that I couldn't do a thing until I got the necessary permits.
So, I made a point of scheduling a visit to the city office building the next day. I had called ahead to make sure they were open, but somehow the person I spoke with didn't feel it necessary to mention that the one person who could actually help me with my permit always took lunch at exactly the time I planned to come, so I ended up waiting for 45 minutes. Oh well, I told myself, it was worth the frustration so that I could start the work.
Exactly as the big, old-fashioned clock on the wall struck 1:30, he entered the office, walking right past me and sitting at his desk. I was a little surprised at his lack of customer service skills, but figured I'd give him a second to get settled before asking for his attention. I'd had plenty of time to stare at the nameplate on his desk, and was debating whether to address him as Jim, or Mr. Taylor.
Not that he didn't notice me; he just seemed to see me more as an object than a citizen he was hired to serve. He looked me up and down, studying my long bare legs, crossed under a mid-thigh-length skirt, and lingering over my tits, perky under a buttoned cotton sweater. Just as I should have expected. OK, that was enough time for him to settled after lunch, not to mention plenty of time for him to ogle me. Now he could help me with what I'd come there to accomplish.
"Excuse me, I need to get a permit for some work on my home? It's within the historic district."
"OK, please fill out these forms," he said, handing me several pages worth of city documents, "and return them to me when you're done."
I returned to my seat, taking a pen from the jar on his desk, and began filling out the forms, answering a seemingly endless string of questions about the work I was planning, the people I'd hired to do it, and its impact on the historic nature of my home and the neighborhood. I looked at my watch more than once, concerned with how much of my day was being eaten up with this bureaucracy - after all, it's not like I wanted to tear down the beautiful victorian and replace it with a strip mall. I was trying to restore it!
"OK, here you go," I said as I handed the forms back to him, hoping to receive my permit in return.
"OK, thank you, um," he searched for my name on the form to finish his sentence, "Kristie." He stamped the forms in several places, and then looked up as he placed them in a large stack on one corner of his desk. "You can come back in two weeks for your permit, unless you'd like us to mail it to you?"
"Um, excuse me, two weeks?"
"That's right, two weeks is the standard for new permits. Are there any other questions I can answer for you?" He had clearly been doing this job for years, exhibiting a calm confidence as he maintained the bureaucratic status quo in spite of my obvious irritation.
"Is there no way to speed up the process? I'm really desperate to get started on this work."
"Listen, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. Two weeks is two weeks. You'll just need to learn a little discipline." He was still calm, unflappable, but his words hung in the air as his piercing blue eyes stared deep into mine.
I blushed, then at the embarrassment of blushing at the word 'discipline', blushed even hotter. Did he mean it as a double entendre? Was he just messing with me, because he knew he held the power in this situation? Much as I knew I'd probably hate myself later, I quickly decided that it would probably be worth flirting with him in an effort to get past the two weeks of red tape.
I unbuttoned the top button of my sweater, put my hand on the edge of his desk, and leaned towards him. "I'm really not the patient type, Jim. Any chance you could move my permit through the system any faster?"
"Hey, I'll be happy to go out with you, but it'll still be a two-week wait on the permit."
Furious and humiliated, I stormed out of the office. Then stormed back in for the jacket I had forgotten, then stormed back out again. Jeez, what a nightmare. It was a rare experience for me, this inability to make something happen. And even more rare, not to be able to rely on my sexuality when all else failed.
One day short of two weeks later, his secretary called, setting a time for me to come by his office. Finally, the work could begin! As I entered the office, I had to pinch myself to remain aloof; Jim was even more attractive than I'd remembered.
"Thanks for coming in, Kristie, there were just a few things you neglected to fill in on the forms, and then I need you to sign on the bottom of page 4."
I quickly scribbled my responses in the blanks, signed the bottom of page 4, and hastily handed the forms back, eager to be on my way.
"Great, thank you. So, the two weeks start today, we'll let you know when your permit is ready!"
"What? You've got to be kidding me - I've already waited two weeks!" I was livid, and resorted to something I thought I never would. Keeping my eyes on his, I reached into my purse and pulled out some cash, offering it in his direction. "Any chance this might speed things up?"
"Oh, no, Kristie. I can't accept that. Besides, as I've already told you, two weeks is two weeks. Nothing more I can do."
Again, I was embarrassed. First, he had refused my flirtateous advances, and now, still cool and collected behind his desk, he pulled the moral high road when I tried to bribe him. I refused to believe that this red tape was insurmountable. Time to pull out all the stops.
"Well, OK. Maybe I do need to learn a little discipline." Gaining courage from the twinkle I swore I saw in his eyes, I continued, "Are you the one who would be giving it to me?"
"OK, Kristie, how about we meet for drinks tonight after work."
I left his office, more slowly this time, convinced that I had managed to work some magic. A few drinks, a little more suggestive talk, and I was sure I'd have him wrapped around my little finger, handing over the permit. I went home, chose a flattering little black dress, combed my long blonde hair into a cute 'do, and made it to the bar we'd agreed on, just in time.
He was quite late - 40 minutes late, arriving just as steam literally began to come out of my ears. How hard was it, exactly, for him to walk the two blocks from his office to this place? But it was no accident that he was late. This was all part of his plan to teach me a little patience, a little discipline.
"So, hope you didn't mind waiting?"
"You know I did, but hey, no problem."
"Good girl. Another drink?"
"Absolutely."
We chatted for a few minutes, sipping our drinks, before I couldn't take it any more, and asked about the status of my permit.
"Kristie, I really don't like to talk about work when I'm not on the clock. Suffice it to say, the answer's not going to change. Two weeks is two weeks."
What the hell was he up to here? Was he really not going to budge? Why had he agreed to go out for drinks? As if in answer to these silent questions, he changed the subject.
"So, we've already worked a bit on your patience this evening. I'm impressed that you waited so long for my arrival. Now perhaps we should focus on your discipline. Where would you suggest we begin?"
"Uh, what?"
His hand grazed my leg, one finger tracing a slow and delicate path from my ankle to the hem of my dress. "Well, I'm just wondering," the sparkle again in his eyes, "are you going to cry out for a spanking, or will it be enough just for me to force my cock down your throat and deny you an orgasm until you've given me at least two or three?"
My brain was screaming at me to object, to toss my drink in his face and walk out, some of my pride still intact. But my skin was hot from his touch, and I was shocked to find myself turned on by the way he talked to me. I blushed again, and realizing that others in the bar could see me, let my head fall, hiding my face from view.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear as his fingers now reached under my dress, stroking ever closer to my hot pussy. "Are you ready for a real lesson in patience and discipline?"
"Yes, yes," I whispered as his fingers reached my clit. I couldn't believe he was fingering me right here in the bar, couldn't believe I was letting him, couldn't even remember the reason I was here in the first place, but none of it mattered anymore. I couldn't believe how freeing it was to give up control so completely. He brought me to the brink of orgasm with his fingers, then stopped abruptly, before paying for the drinks and leading me back to his office.
By the time we arrived, I remembered my motivation again, and was back to my controlling ways. I was still turned on and eager to make out with this guy, but I would make it my mission to get him off as soon as possible so he'd finally give in and let me leave with the permit.
And so began our all-night battle of wills. I was determined to satisfy him, thinking that he'd give me what I had come for as soon as he'd had his way with me. And he was equally determined to teach me a little patience, showing me who was truly in charge. From the start, it was the hottest sex I'd ever had.
He unzipped my dress, watched it fall to the floor, and began fondling my tits, squeezing and nuzzling as I felt his hard cock grow against my leg. When I tried to wrap my arms around him, he grabbed both wrists in one of his strong hands and held my arms forcefully behind my back. He continued fondling me, now nibbling and pinching my nipples more forcefully.
I continued struggling against him, not wanting him to stop, but simply wanting to gain the upper hand. He responded by pushing me down to my knees and pressing my face against his crotch. He was still fully-clothed, but quickly remedied that, whipping off his belt and unzipping his fly to give me access to his cock. But again, when I reached for it with my hands, he pushed them away, grabbing my hair in his hands and forcing me to take his full length into my mouth.
It was easy at first, but as he began to grow more erect, I could barely handle his thrusts, gagging and continuing to struggle for control. I knew I could bring him to orgasm if he let me use my hands, stroking his shaft and cradling his balls as I sucked him off, but he wouldn't let me!
After a few more minutes of pounding my mouth, he pulled me up to my feet, and told me to make myself comfortable as he excused himself for a few minutes. I did indeed make myself comfortable, removing my bra and panties and letting down my hair. I also decided to search his desk for my paperwork, convinced that my permit was sitting there somewhere.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
I wasn't sure what I felt first - the heat of his body as he came up behind me, or the sting of his words, realizing I'd been caught. Before I had a chance to answer, he pushed me down so that my hands and forearms rested on his desk, a pile of paperwork in front of my face, and asked me to spread my legs.
I couldn't see him from this position, and he began to tease my pussy mercilessly. First, he spread my ass cheeks apart and fingered me, easily wetting several fingers and forcing them deep inside. Next it was his cock - he was obviously naked now - rubbing back and forth. Just as I began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, he pulled away, instead shoving what felt like a small dildo into my virgin ass.
I cried out in pain, but as I tried to stand up to protest, he again took control, pressing his full body against mine so I couldn't move from my vulnerable position. Just as quickly as he had shocked me with pain, pain that had since turned into pleasure, the dildo was gone and he was again stroking my pussy lips with his cock.
"Please, please, just fuck me! I can't take it any more!"
"Oh, sure you can. Just a little discipline, that's all."
Before I knew it, he had let me up, but just long enough to push me back to my knees, and I was sucking his cock again, this time tasting just the hint of my own juices. Much to my satisfaction, this time around he did allow me the use of my hands, and before long, I had him moaning as he pounded into my mouth.
But again, he was the one in control, pulling out and again changing our positions before he succumbed to the climax of orgasm. He pulled me to my feet, cupped my pussy with his hand, and began fondling my clit and pussy lips as he forced his tongue down my throat. Once again, he had led me to forget my mission. My obsession with the permit had disappeared; my insistence on gaining the upper hand slipped away as he slipped his fingers inside of me and began fucking me.
I had stopped protesting, stopped begging for his cock, and this is precisely when he gave in and gave it to me. We explored position after position over the next hour - standing, across his desk, on the floor, against the wall - his hard cock filling me completely as we shifted from deep, gentle movements to hard and fast fucking.
I finally couldn't hold back the orgasm any longer, and began crying out as he brought me to the most profound pleasure I'd ever experienced.
"Yes, god yes, Jim, you're going to make me cum!"
"That's it, Kristie, just keep that going, just like that, I'm going to cum with you! Yes, yes, yes, yessssssss!"
I collapsed to the floor in sheer exhaustion after we had both cum, and would have fallen asleep right there if I hadn't soon remembered where I was. I didn't want to read that headline in the town paper, so slowly began gathering my clothes and getting dressed.
"I'm proud of you, Kristie. A little discipline can really pay off, don't you think?"
"I would never have believed it, but yes, that was certainly worth waiting for."
"So, see you in two weeks, then, for the permit?"
"You bet."
Which is why I insisted on serving as the contractor for the work that needed to be done on my new home. Actually, it was a very old home - a beautiful Victorian from 1890 - which needed some substantial restoration work to be brought back to its former glory. I had planned out the project, hired professionals to do the work I couldn't do myself, and was ready to get rolling, when my electrician pointed out that I couldn't do a thing until I got the necessary permits.
So, I made a point of scheduling a visit to the city office building the next day. I had called ahead to make sure they were open, but somehow the person I spoke with didn't feel it necessary to mention that the one person who could actually help me with my permit always took lunch at exactly the time I planned to come, so I ended up waiting for 45 minutes. Oh well, I told myself, it was worth the frustration so that I could start the work.
Exactly as the big, old-fashioned clock on the wall struck 1:30, he entered the office, walking right past me and sitting at his desk. I was a little surprised at his lack of customer service skills, but figured I'd give him a second to get settled before asking for his attention. I'd had plenty of time to stare at the nameplate on his desk, and was debating whether to address him as Jim, or Mr. Taylor.
Not that he didn't notice me; he just seemed to see me more as an object than a citizen he was hired to serve. He looked me up and down, studying my long bare legs, crossed under a mid-thigh-length skirt, and lingering over my tits, perky under a buttoned cotton sweater. Just as I should have expected. OK, that was enough time for him to settled after lunch, not to mention plenty of time for him to ogle me. Now he could help me with what I'd come there to accomplish.
"Excuse me, I need to get a permit for some work on my home? It's within the historic district."
"OK, please fill out these forms," he said, handing me several pages worth of city documents, "and return them to me when you're done."
I returned to my seat, taking a pen from the jar on his desk, and began filling out the forms, answering a seemingly endless string of questions about the work I was planning, the people I'd hired to do it, and its impact on the historic nature of my home and the neighborhood. I looked at my watch more than once, concerned with how much of my day was being eaten up with this bureaucracy - after all, it's not like I wanted to tear down the beautiful victorian and replace it with a strip mall. I was trying to restore it!
"OK, here you go," I said as I handed the forms back to him, hoping to receive my permit in return.
"OK, thank you, um," he searched for my name on the form to finish his sentence, "Kristie." He stamped the forms in several places, and then looked up as he placed them in a large stack on one corner of his desk. "You can come back in two weeks for your permit, unless you'd like us to mail it to you?"
"Um, excuse me, two weeks?"
"That's right, two weeks is the standard for new permits. Are there any other questions I can answer for you?" He had clearly been doing this job for years, exhibiting a calm confidence as he maintained the bureaucratic status quo in spite of my obvious irritation.
"Is there no way to speed up the process? I'm really desperate to get started on this work."
"Listen, I'm sorry, but there's nothing I can do. Two weeks is two weeks. You'll just need to learn a little discipline." He was still calm, unflappable, but his words hung in the air as his piercing blue eyes stared deep into mine.
I blushed, then at the embarrassment of blushing at the word 'discipline', blushed even hotter. Did he mean it as a double entendre? Was he just messing with me, because he knew he held the power in this situation? Much as I knew I'd probably hate myself later, I quickly decided that it would probably be worth flirting with him in an effort to get past the two weeks of red tape.
I unbuttoned the top button of my sweater, put my hand on the edge of his desk, and leaned towards him. "I'm really not the patient type, Jim. Any chance you could move my permit through the system any faster?"
"Hey, I'll be happy to go out with you, but it'll still be a two-week wait on the permit."
Furious and humiliated, I stormed out of the office. Then stormed back in for the jacket I had forgotten, then stormed back out again. Jeez, what a nightmare. It was a rare experience for me, this inability to make something happen. And even more rare, not to be able to rely on my sexuality when all else failed.
One day short of two weeks later, his secretary called, setting a time for me to come by his office. Finally, the work could begin! As I entered the office, I had to pinch myself to remain aloof; Jim was even more attractive than I'd remembered.
"Thanks for coming in, Kristie, there were just a few things you neglected to fill in on the forms, and then I need you to sign on the bottom of page 4."
I quickly scribbled my responses in the blanks, signed the bottom of page 4, and hastily handed the forms back, eager to be on my way.
"Great, thank you. So, the two weeks start today, we'll let you know when your permit is ready!"
"What? You've got to be kidding me - I've already waited two weeks!" I was livid, and resorted to something I thought I never would. Keeping my eyes on his, I reached into my purse and pulled out some cash, offering it in his direction. "Any chance this might speed things up?"
"Oh, no, Kristie. I can't accept that. Besides, as I've already told you, two weeks is two weeks. Nothing more I can do."
Again, I was embarrassed. First, he had refused my flirtateous advances, and now, still cool and collected behind his desk, he pulled the moral high road when I tried to bribe him. I refused to believe that this red tape was insurmountable. Time to pull out all the stops.
"Well, OK. Maybe I do need to learn a little discipline." Gaining courage from the twinkle I swore I saw in his eyes, I continued, "Are you the one who would be giving it to me?"
"OK, Kristie, how about we meet for drinks tonight after work."
I left his office, more slowly this time, convinced that I had managed to work some magic. A few drinks, a little more suggestive talk, and I was sure I'd have him wrapped around my little finger, handing over the permit. I went home, chose a flattering little black dress, combed my long blonde hair into a cute 'do, and made it to the bar we'd agreed on, just in time.
He was quite late - 40 minutes late, arriving just as steam literally began to come out of my ears. How hard was it, exactly, for him to walk the two blocks from his office to this place? But it was no accident that he was late. This was all part of his plan to teach me a little patience, a little discipline.
"So, hope you didn't mind waiting?"
"You know I did, but hey, no problem."
"Good girl. Another drink?"
"Absolutely."
We chatted for a few minutes, sipping our drinks, before I couldn't take it any more, and asked about the status of my permit.
"Kristie, I really don't like to talk about work when I'm not on the clock. Suffice it to say, the answer's not going to change. Two weeks is two weeks."
What the hell was he up to here? Was he really not going to budge? Why had he agreed to go out for drinks? As if in answer to these silent questions, he changed the subject.
"So, we've already worked a bit on your patience this evening. I'm impressed that you waited so long for my arrival. Now perhaps we should focus on your discipline. Where would you suggest we begin?"
"Uh, what?"
His hand grazed my leg, one finger tracing a slow and delicate path from my ankle to the hem of my dress. "Well, I'm just wondering," the sparkle again in his eyes, "are you going to cry out for a spanking, or will it be enough just for me to force my cock down your throat and deny you an orgasm until you've given me at least two or three?"
My brain was screaming at me to object, to toss my drink in his face and walk out, some of my pride still intact. But my skin was hot from his touch, and I was shocked to find myself turned on by the way he talked to me. I blushed again, and realizing that others in the bar could see me, let my head fall, hiding my face from view.
He leaned in, whispering in my ear as his fingers now reached under my dress, stroking ever closer to my hot pussy. "Are you ready for a real lesson in patience and discipline?"
"Yes, yes," I whispered as his fingers reached my clit. I couldn't believe he was fingering me right here in the bar, couldn't believe I was letting him, couldn't even remember the reason I was here in the first place, but none of it mattered anymore. I couldn't believe how freeing it was to give up control so completely. He brought me to the brink of orgasm with his fingers, then stopped abruptly, before paying for the drinks and leading me back to his office.
By the time we arrived, I remembered my motivation again, and was back to my controlling ways. I was still turned on and eager to make out with this guy, but I would make it my mission to get him off as soon as possible so he'd finally give in and let me leave with the permit.
And so began our all-night battle of wills. I was determined to satisfy him, thinking that he'd give me what I had come for as soon as he'd had his way with me. And he was equally determined to teach me a little patience, showing me who was truly in charge. From the start, it was the hottest sex I'd ever had.
He unzipped my dress, watched it fall to the floor, and began fondling my tits, squeezing and nuzzling as I felt his hard cock grow against my leg. When I tried to wrap my arms around him, he grabbed both wrists in one of his strong hands and held my arms forcefully behind my back. He continued fondling me, now nibbling and pinching my nipples more forcefully.
I continued struggling against him, not wanting him to stop, but simply wanting to gain the upper hand. He responded by pushing me down to my knees and pressing my face against his crotch. He was still fully-clothed, but quickly remedied that, whipping off his belt and unzipping his fly to give me access to his cock. But again, when I reached for it with my hands, he pushed them away, grabbing my hair in his hands and forcing me to take his full length into my mouth.
It was easy at first, but as he began to grow more erect, I could barely handle his thrusts, gagging and continuing to struggle for control. I knew I could bring him to orgasm if he let me use my hands, stroking his shaft and cradling his balls as I sucked him off, but he wouldn't let me!
After a few more minutes of pounding my mouth, he pulled me up to my feet, and told me to make myself comfortable as he excused himself for a few minutes. I did indeed make myself comfortable, removing my bra and panties and letting down my hair. I also decided to search his desk for my paperwork, convinced that my permit was sitting there somewhere.
"Just what do you think you're doing?"
I wasn't sure what I felt first - the heat of his body as he came up behind me, or the sting of his words, realizing I'd been caught. Before I had a chance to answer, he pushed me down so that my hands and forearms rested on his desk, a pile of paperwork in front of my face, and asked me to spread my legs.
I couldn't see him from this position, and he began to tease my pussy mercilessly. First, he spread my ass cheeks apart and fingered me, easily wetting several fingers and forcing them deep inside. Next it was his cock - he was obviously naked now - rubbing back and forth. Just as I began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, he pulled away, instead shoving what felt like a small dildo into my virgin ass.
I cried out in pain, but as I tried to stand up to protest, he again took control, pressing his full body against mine so I couldn't move from my vulnerable position. Just as quickly as he had shocked me with pain, pain that had since turned into pleasure, the dildo was gone and he was again stroking my pussy lips with his cock.
"Please, please, just fuck me! I can't take it any more!"
"Oh, sure you can. Just a little discipline, that's all."
Before I knew it, he had let me up, but just long enough to push me back to my knees, and I was sucking his cock again, this time tasting just the hint of my own juices. Much to my satisfaction, this time around he did allow me the use of my hands, and before long, I had him moaning as he pounded into my mouth.
But again, he was the one in control, pulling out and again changing our positions before he succumbed to the climax of orgasm. He pulled me to my feet, cupped my pussy with his hand, and began fondling my clit and pussy lips as he forced his tongue down my throat. Once again, he had led me to forget my mission. My obsession with the permit had disappeared; my insistence on gaining the upper hand slipped away as he slipped his fingers inside of me and began fucking me.
I had stopped protesting, stopped begging for his cock, and this is precisely when he gave in and gave it to me. We explored position after position over the next hour - standing, across his desk, on the floor, against the wall - his hard cock filling me completely as we shifted from deep, gentle movements to hard and fast fucking.
I finally couldn't hold back the orgasm any longer, and began crying out as he brought me to the most profound pleasure I'd ever experienced.
"Yes, god yes, Jim, you're going to make me cum!"
"That's it, Kristie, just keep that going, just like that, I'm going to cum with you! Yes, yes, yes, yessssssss!"
I collapsed to the floor in sheer exhaustion after we had both cum, and would have fallen asleep right there if I hadn't soon remembered where I was. I didn't want to read that headline in the town paper, so slowly began gathering my clothes and getting dressed.
"I'm proud of you, Kristie. A little discipline can really pay off, don't you think?"
"I would never have believed it, but yes, that was certainly worth waiting for."
"So, see you in two weeks, then, for the permit?"
"You bet."
Friday, September 19, 2008
Special Assistant to the CEO
Wow, an interview! It was September, I had graduated with my Business degree in June, and had applied for countless jobs, none of which had panned out. Don't get me wrong, there had been several interviews, even a few offers, but none was exactly what I was looking for. But I was excited about this one, so it made my day to get the phone call.
I had applied for the job weeks ago. Josh and Dan, a couple of my classmates, had also applied and had been rejected almost immediately. When I was not, I figured it was a case of no news being good news. It was a vague job title - Special Assistant to the CEO - which I assumed would include some making of coffee and picking up of dry cleaning, but I didn't care. The CEO in question was one of the most respected in the country, sitting at the helm of a multi-million dollar company, and unfailingly referred to as one of the most creative, insightful, and ethical businessmen in the field. A chance to work for him, even if it was just managing his schedule or answering his phone, would undoubtedly be a valuable learning experience.
Anyway, needless to say, I arrived at his office the following day well-prepped, well-dressed, and just a bit nervous. I had chosen a professional but flattering black gabardine jacket and skirt, offset by a slightly low-cut red silk blouse. I carried a leather portfolio containing everything I thought he might ask to see - another copy of my resume, recommendation letters, transcripts. When I arrived, I progressed through a series of receptionists, until I finally found myself in his office. "He'll be with you shortly," a kindly older woman said, smiling as she motioned to the chair across from his desk. "Can I get you anything?"
"No, thanks."
"Alright, I'll be just outside if you need anything," she said, closing the door on her way out.
Well, I thought to myself, I can't see that he needs any more people to answer his phone, manage his schedule, or even make his coffee, given the army who had just assisted me. So perhaps this job really would enable me to use my business smarts!
After just a few minutes, the door opened and I quickly stood to meet him. "Jessica, I presume?"
I had seen pictures of him, but hadn't realized that I would be taken aback when meeting him in person - he was bigger than I expected, about 6'3" and with an athletic build. "Yes, Mr. Peterson," I said with a smile and a handshake, "it's an honor to meet you!"
"Thank you. And thank you for coming. Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts."
He sat down behind his desk, and I returned to the chair opposite, watching him intently. He opened a manila folder, one of just a few on his clean desk, and I could see that he was looking at my resume. I took a deep breath, and tried to prepare myself for all of the possible questions that might come by way. But all of the mock interviews I'd been through in school couldn't prepare me for what came next.
He looked up from the papers, his piercing blue eyes locking on mine. I expected him to speak, but he did not, for what seemed like minutes, as he seemed to search my face for the answer to a puzzle. It didn't make me uncomfortable - it wasn't like the many experiences I'd had before when the boss was asking questions of my tits - just made me wonder what it was he was looking for.
Finally, he spoke, confident and calm, explaining exactly what he hoped I could offer.
"You undoubtedly noticed when you arrived that I have plenty of assistance here in the office. There are several people tasked with organizing my days and making sure I have everything I need to be an effective leader. What you might not have seen is that I also have dozens of employees already meeting other needs as well - recent college grads such as yourself ready to churn out reports, create presentations, hold meetings. So what I'm looking for with this position is really something quite unique."
"OK..."
"I've made some calls to your references - those you listed on your resume and those you didn't - and I'm confident enough in your professionalism and confidentiality to have invited you for an interview. You're actually the first."
"Well, thank you. But I'm not sure I understand the nature of the position?" I didn't want to press him, but I also couldn't stand the suspense much longer - what exactly was he looking for, anyway?
"Let me start by asking you, whether you choose to take the position or not, never to repeat anything you hear today. I'm sure I don't have to explain that I could make it very difficult for you to find future employment if I so chose?"
"Um, no, of course not." Was I interviewing to be some sort of business-world spy?
"Good, I'm glad we have that established. I need to hire a special assistant so that I can have a go-to person for projects which aren't quite ready to unveil to the whole team. I also need that person to be on call to me for other special favors. So, how experienced are you, exactly?"
"Well," I said, happy to finally have an opening to talk about my resume, "as you can see, I held two internships while in school, and..."
"No, Jessica, that's not what I mean. I'm asking how experienced you are, in a sexual sense."
"Um, what?"
"You see, I've watched too many of my peers get caught in embarrassing scandals - caught with their pants down, so to speak - that I'm interested in having someone actually on the payroll to take care of those needs. But of course that person must also be qualified to do some legitimate work for the company. And, in fact, capable enough to take on some serious projects, to build the experience necessary to be able to move on to a better position in the future. About the time you'd be ready to move on, for example, I'm sure I'd be interested in finding someone younger to take over these duties."
I was frozen in my chair. I was shocked - at the whole concept, at how cool he could be while explaining it to me. And shocked that I wasn't storming out of his office. He could tell that I was still listening, so he continued.
"What I want is very hard to come by in this world. I'm looking for someone willing to be my personal slut, at my service day or night, whenever or wherever I ask. But that same person also must be capable of maintaining a professional demeanor, handling some serious work for me and the business, and completely, utterly confidential."
Silence.
"If you can meet those demands, I'm prepared to offer you this salary." He stood up, walked around the desk to stand in front of me, and handed me a scrap of paper which noted a dollar amount in the high five figures. "And I'm serious about what I said earlier. I do want this person to be able to move on to, shall we say, a more traditional position in the future. If you choose to take this job, you are free to look for other work in the future, I only ask that you keep me in the loop, as I do have quite a considerable amount of experience in the field, and can offer you valuable advice. So, that brings us back to you. Do you think you'd have the experience to carry out this kind of work?"
I was still shocked, but with each word he uttered, calmly and confidently, I moved closer to deciding to take the job. Perhaps if he wasn't who he was - if he didn't hold the high reputation he did - I wouldn't have taken him at his word. But I did. What the hell, I'll go for it.
Rather than answering him in words, I dropped to my knees in front of him, so that my face was directly in front of his crotch. Looking up at him, I reached for his belt. He smiled, obviously pleased that I was taking some initiative. As I worked his belt free and unzipped his trousers, he slipped my jacket off and tossed it aside, proceeding to fondle my tits through my blouse as I massaged his cock through his boxers.
Keeping my big green eyes locked on his, I fished out his hardening cock and began stroking it with both hands. I could tell that I would have my hands, not to mention my mouth, full with his impressive length. Keeping both of my hands moving back and forth, I began exploring the tip with my tongue, still keeping my eyes on his. He now reached inside my blouse, forcing his hands inside my bra, and pinched my nipples firmly, and I responded by gasping quietly and then taking more of his length into my mouth.
After a few moments of this, my hands and mouth busy pleasuring him as he felt me up, he suddenly pulled his hands away from my breasts and began weaving his fingers through my long blonde hair, gathering it up in his hands until he had firm hold on a ponytail. With such force that I had no choice but to move my hands away, he forced me down onto his length, the tip of his cock reaching the back of my throat.
I gagged for a moment, but quickly regained my composure and relaxed my throat as he began fucking my mouth fast and deep. His balls slapped against my chin as he thrust his hips forward, and I took them in my hands and began fondling them, tickling him gently as he continued to thrust.
He let my hair fall from his fingers, and reached down to unbutton my blouse. I continued fondling his balls with one hand, moving the other to stroke his shaft as I sucked him off. He slowed his motions for a few moments while he reached around to unhook my strapless bra, which fell to the floor, my perfect tits bouncing free.
"Perfection," he whispered. "Will you allow me to cum all over those beautiful tits?"
"Please, they're all yours," I replied in a husky voice, completely turned on.
He grabbed me by the hair again, forcing me down on his shaft once more, and began fucking my mouth with abandon. I kept one hand on his balls, cupping and kneading them gently, then firmly, and one hand on his shaft, moving in a circular motion at the base while he continued to pound my mouth. It was all I could do to catch the occasional breath as he kept up this furious fucking for what seemed like minutes.
"Yes, that's it," he hissed, and I looked into his eyes as he pulled out of my mouth, pointing his long hard cock at my tits. I grabbed my breasts, holding them up to him, and he jerked as he shot a huge load of cum all over them. The warm sticky goo was dripping from my chest, and I pulled a nipple up to my tongue to lick what I could, showing him how much I enjoyed his taste.
"Why thank you, Jessica," he said, handing me a tissue. I think your level of experience will serve me quite well. Not to say that there aren't things we can improve on."
"Believe me, sir, I'll make it my priority to learn exactly what you want and need."
"You do realize, Jessica, that you just made your first mistake as a professional businesswoman. You really should have signed the contract before giving the blow job." He smiled. "You can trust me, of course, but I wouldn't recommend that level of naïveté when it comes to other businessmen!"
"Absolutely, sir. I'll keep that in mind," I said as I signed my contract.
"Great. Go ahead and find your way out, Shirley will have more forms for you to fill out. I will see you tomorrow, and give you your keys. You'll have an office here, of course, but there will also be keys to my condo downtown."
TO BE CONTINUED...
I had applied for the job weeks ago. Josh and Dan, a couple of my classmates, had also applied and had been rejected almost immediately. When I was not, I figured it was a case of no news being good news. It was a vague job title - Special Assistant to the CEO - which I assumed would include some making of coffee and picking up of dry cleaning, but I didn't care. The CEO in question was one of the most respected in the country, sitting at the helm of a multi-million dollar company, and unfailingly referred to as one of the most creative, insightful, and ethical businessmen in the field. A chance to work for him, even if it was just managing his schedule or answering his phone, would undoubtedly be a valuable learning experience.
Anyway, needless to say, I arrived at his office the following day well-prepped, well-dressed, and just a bit nervous. I had chosen a professional but flattering black gabardine jacket and skirt, offset by a slightly low-cut red silk blouse. I carried a leather portfolio containing everything I thought he might ask to see - another copy of my resume, recommendation letters, transcripts. When I arrived, I progressed through a series of receptionists, until I finally found myself in his office. "He'll be with you shortly," a kindly older woman said, smiling as she motioned to the chair across from his desk. "Can I get you anything?"
"No, thanks."
"Alright, I'll be just outside if you need anything," she said, closing the door on her way out.
Well, I thought to myself, I can't see that he needs any more people to answer his phone, manage his schedule, or even make his coffee, given the army who had just assisted me. So perhaps this job really would enable me to use my business smarts!
After just a few minutes, the door opened and I quickly stood to meet him. "Jessica, I presume?"
I had seen pictures of him, but hadn't realized that I would be taken aback when meeting him in person - he was bigger than I expected, about 6'3" and with an athletic build. "Yes, Mr. Peterson," I said with a smile and a handshake, "it's an honor to meet you!"
"Thank you. And thank you for coming. Just give me a moment to gather my thoughts."
He sat down behind his desk, and I returned to the chair opposite, watching him intently. He opened a manila folder, one of just a few on his clean desk, and I could see that he was looking at my resume. I took a deep breath, and tried to prepare myself for all of the possible questions that might come by way. But all of the mock interviews I'd been through in school couldn't prepare me for what came next.
He looked up from the papers, his piercing blue eyes locking on mine. I expected him to speak, but he did not, for what seemed like minutes, as he seemed to search my face for the answer to a puzzle. It didn't make me uncomfortable - it wasn't like the many experiences I'd had before when the boss was asking questions of my tits - just made me wonder what it was he was looking for.
Finally, he spoke, confident and calm, explaining exactly what he hoped I could offer.
"You undoubtedly noticed when you arrived that I have plenty of assistance here in the office. There are several people tasked with organizing my days and making sure I have everything I need to be an effective leader. What you might not have seen is that I also have dozens of employees already meeting other needs as well - recent college grads such as yourself ready to churn out reports, create presentations, hold meetings. So what I'm looking for with this position is really something quite unique."
"OK..."
"I've made some calls to your references - those you listed on your resume and those you didn't - and I'm confident enough in your professionalism and confidentiality to have invited you for an interview. You're actually the first."
"Well, thank you. But I'm not sure I understand the nature of the position?" I didn't want to press him, but I also couldn't stand the suspense much longer - what exactly was he looking for, anyway?
"Let me start by asking you, whether you choose to take the position or not, never to repeat anything you hear today. I'm sure I don't have to explain that I could make it very difficult for you to find future employment if I so chose?"
"Um, no, of course not." Was I interviewing to be some sort of business-world spy?
"Good, I'm glad we have that established. I need to hire a special assistant so that I can have a go-to person for projects which aren't quite ready to unveil to the whole team. I also need that person to be on call to me for other special favors. So, how experienced are you, exactly?"
"Well," I said, happy to finally have an opening to talk about my resume, "as you can see, I held two internships while in school, and..."
"No, Jessica, that's not what I mean. I'm asking how experienced you are, in a sexual sense."
"Um, what?"
"You see, I've watched too many of my peers get caught in embarrassing scandals - caught with their pants down, so to speak - that I'm interested in having someone actually on the payroll to take care of those needs. But of course that person must also be qualified to do some legitimate work for the company. And, in fact, capable enough to take on some serious projects, to build the experience necessary to be able to move on to a better position in the future. About the time you'd be ready to move on, for example, I'm sure I'd be interested in finding someone younger to take over these duties."
I was frozen in my chair. I was shocked - at the whole concept, at how cool he could be while explaining it to me. And shocked that I wasn't storming out of his office. He could tell that I was still listening, so he continued.
"What I want is very hard to come by in this world. I'm looking for someone willing to be my personal slut, at my service day or night, whenever or wherever I ask. But that same person also must be capable of maintaining a professional demeanor, handling some serious work for me and the business, and completely, utterly confidential."
Silence.
"If you can meet those demands, I'm prepared to offer you this salary." He stood up, walked around the desk to stand in front of me, and handed me a scrap of paper which noted a dollar amount in the high five figures. "And I'm serious about what I said earlier. I do want this person to be able to move on to, shall we say, a more traditional position in the future. If you choose to take this job, you are free to look for other work in the future, I only ask that you keep me in the loop, as I do have quite a considerable amount of experience in the field, and can offer you valuable advice. So, that brings us back to you. Do you think you'd have the experience to carry out this kind of work?"
I was still shocked, but with each word he uttered, calmly and confidently, I moved closer to deciding to take the job. Perhaps if he wasn't who he was - if he didn't hold the high reputation he did - I wouldn't have taken him at his word. But I did. What the hell, I'll go for it.
Rather than answering him in words, I dropped to my knees in front of him, so that my face was directly in front of his crotch. Looking up at him, I reached for his belt. He smiled, obviously pleased that I was taking some initiative. As I worked his belt free and unzipped his trousers, he slipped my jacket off and tossed it aside, proceeding to fondle my tits through my blouse as I massaged his cock through his boxers.
Keeping my big green eyes locked on his, I fished out his hardening cock and began stroking it with both hands. I could tell that I would have my hands, not to mention my mouth, full with his impressive length. Keeping both of my hands moving back and forth, I began exploring the tip with my tongue, still keeping my eyes on his. He now reached inside my blouse, forcing his hands inside my bra, and pinched my nipples firmly, and I responded by gasping quietly and then taking more of his length into my mouth.
After a few moments of this, my hands and mouth busy pleasuring him as he felt me up, he suddenly pulled his hands away from my breasts and began weaving his fingers through my long blonde hair, gathering it up in his hands until he had firm hold on a ponytail. With such force that I had no choice but to move my hands away, he forced me down onto his length, the tip of his cock reaching the back of my throat.
I gagged for a moment, but quickly regained my composure and relaxed my throat as he began fucking my mouth fast and deep. His balls slapped against my chin as he thrust his hips forward, and I took them in my hands and began fondling them, tickling him gently as he continued to thrust.
He let my hair fall from his fingers, and reached down to unbutton my blouse. I continued fondling his balls with one hand, moving the other to stroke his shaft as I sucked him off. He slowed his motions for a few moments while he reached around to unhook my strapless bra, which fell to the floor, my perfect tits bouncing free.
"Perfection," he whispered. "Will you allow me to cum all over those beautiful tits?"
"Please, they're all yours," I replied in a husky voice, completely turned on.
He grabbed me by the hair again, forcing me down on his shaft once more, and began fucking my mouth with abandon. I kept one hand on his balls, cupping and kneading them gently, then firmly, and one hand on his shaft, moving in a circular motion at the base while he continued to pound my mouth. It was all I could do to catch the occasional breath as he kept up this furious fucking for what seemed like minutes.
"Yes, that's it," he hissed, and I looked into his eyes as he pulled out of my mouth, pointing his long hard cock at my tits. I grabbed my breasts, holding them up to him, and he jerked as he shot a huge load of cum all over them. The warm sticky goo was dripping from my chest, and I pulled a nipple up to my tongue to lick what I could, showing him how much I enjoyed his taste.
"Why thank you, Jessica," he said, handing me a tissue. I think your level of experience will serve me quite well. Not to say that there aren't things we can improve on."
"Believe me, sir, I'll make it my priority to learn exactly what you want and need."
"You do realize, Jessica, that you just made your first mistake as a professional businesswoman. You really should have signed the contract before giving the blow job." He smiled. "You can trust me, of course, but I wouldn't recommend that level of naïveté when it comes to other businessmen!"
"Absolutely, sir. I'll keep that in mind," I said as I signed my contract.
"Great. Go ahead and find your way out, Shirley will have more forms for you to fill out. I will see you tomorrow, and give you your keys. You'll have an office here, of course, but there will also be keys to my condo downtown."
TO BE CONTINUED...
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