Meeting Jeanne

The woman standing outside my door was dripping wet. I briefly considered turning her away, but decided against it.

I pulled back from the peephole and unlocked the door.

"I'm sorry I got stranded and..." she stammered, pulling the motorcycle helmet off her head.

"Come in," I said, holding the door open.

"Thank you," she hurried inside. "My bike had a problem and the frigging rain decided to fall at this moment."

I stood looking at the wet spot forming around her shoes on the carpet. She looked down at her feet and grinned apologetically.

"I'm sorry about your carpet," she said, hugging herself tighter. I noticed her teeth were chattering and realized that in my preoccupation with the soaking of my carpet I had forgotten to offer her something to dry herself with. A brief survey revealed she was soaked to the skin and a simple towel wouldn't do.

"Wait here," I said, disappearing inside my bedroom. I chose some old clothes and picked a towel.

"Here you go," I handed them to her when I returned. "You can change in the bathroom over there."

She had unwrapped her hands from around herself and although I trained my eyes on her face to maintain some level of propriety, they strayed a little and I caught a brief glimpse of nipples poking though her wet shirt. If the front view was tempting, the back was definitely alluring and I could stare unabashedly at her shapely ass as well as the outline of her panties underneath her skirt as she went to change.

I waited until she had disappeared inside the bathroom before going into the kitchen to make coffee. When I returned from the kitchen with two cups of coffee and some croissants, I found her dressed and standing in the living room, too polite to sit down without being asked to. The pair of shorts and shirt I had given her hung loosely on her and I wished she was still in her wet clothes.

"There was a dryer outside the bathroom," I said. "Did you put your clothes in it?"

She nodded. I handed her a cup and she lowered herself into the seat I indicated.

"How bad's the bike?" I asked.

"Not very bad. I could probably fix it in ten minutes -- it's hard to do that in the rain when you're getting soaked -- and I needed some shelter," she said.

While she sipped delicately from her cup and nibbled on a croissant, I studied her. She looked to be in her mid-twenties with brown eyes, black hair and soft-looking luscious lips. She caught me staring at her and a faint blush appeared on her cheeks.

"You do a lot of writing don't you?" she nodded towards the pile of paper with my handwriting all over.

"A little," I said, adding, "Nothing much."

She picked one of the sheets and glanced through it. When she looked up at me there was surprise written all over her face.

"My God, The Real Fantasia! You're The Professor," she said.

"Yes," it was my turn to be surprised. "You read my blog?"

"I'm a fan!" she gushed.

I'd been writing my fantasies on a blog for a little over a year. I got hits from all over the world, including the city I lived in but never had it occurred to me that there was a possibility of running into one of my readers.

"I'm glad you like it. Thanks for reading."

"How do you make up your stories?" she asked.

"I just write them. A little from one fantasy, a little from another, and soon I have a story," I explained, trying all the while to look calm. Writing about sex doesn't faze me -- discussing it does.

"Do any of them come true?" she leaned forward and I could tell she wasn't wearing a bra under my shirt. Her coffee was ignored, her fascination with The Professor in the flesh taking over.

"No," I laughed. "But it doesn't hurt any to imagine they will does it?"

"I suppose not," she said.

"Your coffee's getting cold," I warned.

She looked at it and shrugged.

"Surely, there must be something you base your writing on," she said.

"Yes -- equality. No domination on either side, no rape, no threats."

"But in Restrained, you had something..."

"That wasn't what I originally intended," I said defensively. "The agent was supposed to have been rescued by his real controller but the rescue sequence was too long. Most of what I write is consensual -- just two adults having a good time."

"Like us," she said softly.

We stared at each other over our coffee cups. I looked away and the moment passed.

"What's with the fascination with buttholes?" she asked suddenly.

I had expected the question from the moment she discovered who I was but it still caught me unawares. I spilled some coffee onto my hand but it wasn't hot enough to scald me.

"When I was little," I began. "I wanted to see people exactly as they were." I placed my cup carefully on a side stool. "Unfortunately, that wasn't always possible. The famous, the rich, the important, the respected, all loomed larger than life. To a 3-year-old boy, the solution was simple -- think of them as having er... buttholes."

She giggled.

"Introduce me to anyone famous or exceptional today," I continued. "Introduce me to an actor or an actress who's won ten Oscars and in my mind I go, 'Yeah, but he's got one of those' or 'Yeah, she's got an asshole.'"

"I've got one too," she said.

Our eyes met again and this time she looked away before I did. She was baiting me, but why? I wasn't exactly drop-dead gorgeous or muscular, or whatever it was ladies liked in men but...

The feel of her soft lips touching mine halted my train of thoughts. We kissed briefly -- a slow, sensual brushing of lips that had to end because our haunches couldn't hold us leaning forward for very long.

She dropped her mug and crossed the little table between us. I lifted her onto my lap. Her tongue was soft like the rest of her, wet and wild. We kissed like we had all the time in the world, my hand rubbing gently up and down her back.

She slipped her hand under my shirt and caressed my stomach, stroking the hair that ran up my abdomen and stopped just shy of my chest. She began to kiss my neck -- soft feathery kisses with the occasional hickey. When she lifted the hem of my shirt and sucked on my nipple, I moaned, surprised at the sensations. I know I would have cum if I hadn't held her off then.

I unbuttoned the shirt she was wearing and lowered my head to her breasts. I nuzzled them briefly, then took her left nipple between my teeth.

"Please be gentle," she whispered.

I didn't bite her. I held the hard nub in my teeth, flicking my tongue against it, feeling her respond with complete abandon. I switched to the right breast, then trailed my tongue down her abdomen, stopping briefly at her navel. I lifted her off my lap and placed her on the sofa.

There's something about looking into someone's eyes while you pleasure them -- a feeling of oneness, an indescribable connection. She held my gaze as I performed my magic with my tongue, not looking once at her cunt but relying on eye communication for guidance. She bit down on her lowerlip and from the tightening of her thigh muscles I knew she was getting there. I left off tonguing her and got her to lift her legs above her head.

Her anus was a converging set of reddish-brown wrinkles. I blew lightly on it and watched it twitch reflexively, then waited, letting her expectation mount before touching it lightly with the tip of my tongue.

"Oh my God," she gasped. "Oh my God."

She breathed shallowly, her asshole twitching as my tongue swabbed it. She clenched up suddenly, then went limp as she came. I didn't stop. My tongue lapped at the juices that ran into the crack of her ass.

I expected her to relax and catch her breath but she dropped her legs quickly and pulled me up into the sofa, trading places with me. It didn't take her more than two seconds for her to get my shorts off and grasp my dick. She licked teasingly at the underside, then took me completely into her mouth.

"Stop," I said when I felt the familiar pressure before the tingling.

"Why?"

"I'm one of those guys who only cum once," I said.

I pulled her into my lap again. I had just positioned the head of my cock at her entrance when she got off me.

"I have to go," she sounded desperate.

"Why?" I was incredulous. It was still raining outside -- and there was the matter of having not yet cum.

"Not that. I have to pee!"

I watched her dash into the bathroom, wondering all the while why women could feel the urge to relieve themselves while aroused and hoping she would still be in the mood when she returned. I made a fist around my cock and masturbated slowly, unwilling to lose my erection before she returned.

She ran out of the bathroom in the same haste and straddled me. I held onto her ass and she wrapped her hands around me as I bounced her up and down my cock. She climaxed twice on my dick and when I came, she just kept moving. Surprisingly, I remained hard.

We switched positions and I entered her from behind, getting a wonderful view of her pucker. My balls slapped against her ass every time I thrust completely in. She bucked her hips to match my tempo and I could feel another orgasm building up.

For a moment I was on the brink, then she tightened her vaginal muscles around me and I came, my cock jerking inside her as I shot all I had left in my balls into her.

After we had cleaned up and she was lying across my lap, my forefinger playing with her asshole, she asked, "So what's your name Professor?"

I told her.

"I'm Jeanne -- with a double n and an e," she said.

Thank you Jeanne.

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Fictitious

Masturbathlon

Glistening pink.

I stared, mesmerized. Pink panties were pink but when they glistened, they meant only one thing -- pussy.

"Done looking?" Alexis asked, startling me.

"What?" I jerked my gaze guiltily upward.

"Done looking?" she asked again, parting her legs a little wider. Dangerous -- very dangerous.

"Alexis, I don't think this is a good idea," I protested mildly as she pushed up her skirt until the entire goods were on display.

Don't look, I cautioned myself but my eyes went lower, drawn like a moth to a flame.

She had shaved her pussy down to a very low patch. Her full lips stared at me in their full glory. My mouth watered.

"Well?" she prompted.

"I can't do this," I got to my feet.

It was her turn to stare and she giggled. I followed her gaze and looked down at the tent in my trousers, then back at her. A guy can only hold out so long. I swallowed the lump in my throat and returned to my seat.

"Why're you doing this?" I asked, trying to put off the inevitable.

"I can't keep giving you hints forever," she sighed. "You wanted me -- I saw it in your eyes when we met -- and I wanted you."

I made to get up and go to her but she stopped me.

"Let me see your penis," she said.

Let me see your penis. It sounded so clinical, so formal, like something doctors used when conversing or lawyers used when grilling clients -- it was hardly the word to use in a sexual connotation.

I unzipped my trousers and produced my cock, feeling slightly foolish as I held it by the base to keep it upright for her inspection. I was fully erect and she surveyed me with unabashed interest taking in the veins on the sides, the striation where the foreskin had been removed and the slightly open hole at the top.

Her hands went down and she began to play with herself, opening her legs completely for my viewing pleasure. She fingered herself with one hand and twiddled her clit with the other.

I wrapped a hand around my shaft and began to masturbate, matching her tempo stroke for stroke. My eyes met hers and we smiled at each other.

When I looked between her legs again, she had stopped playing with herself. She leaned slightly backward and moved forward in the chair. I watched dry-throated as she traced the outline of her asshole with her finger, wetting it with the juices from her cunt. When her finger popped in past the sphincter, I unconsciously began to jerk off faster.

We came within seconds of each other, her eyes wide with wonder as the semen leaped from my cock.

We've had a few more sessions since then but I still haven't fucked her.

The Ambassador

The actress I had been talking with for the last few minutes was beginning to get on my nerves. I looked around frantically, trying to locate the Count.

"...so he asked me if I'd tried Ecstasy and I told him I heard it was pretty addictive and then he said..." the actress just wouldn't let up. I resisted the urge to tell her to shut up.

I finally located the Count. He was standing with a group of diplomats looking almost as bored as I was. I caught his eye and made imploring faces. His mustache twitched with amusement as he excused himself.

"...the next day he didn't show up on the set and the director was mad. Turned out he..." The actress wasn't out of steam yet. She stopped when the Count got to us.

"A good evening to you Madame Zelda..." he bowed gallantly.

"Zeldman," she corrected sharply.

I slipped away unnoticed, glad to get away. I spent a while wandering before I saw her.

She was wearing a red dress cut low behind her, standing with her back to me. Well-honed shoulder blades, straight neck, smooth back, and then that derriere -- not too big, not too flat. I imagined clasping it while holding her to me, her breasts flat against my chest.

I wondered if the front view was as spectacular as I strolled in a semicircle that would have brought us face to face.

"Ooh Mr Lancaster, there's someone who'd like to meet you!"

I stifled the automatic frown as I turned towards the annoying media escort I'd been assigned for the evening.

"Yes?"

"Over there," she took my elbow and guided me towards the person she wanted me to meet, trying all the while not to fall over in her high heels.

"May I introduce the High Commissioner of Guyana to the United Kingdom, Ms Nadia Shabab?"

The lady in red turned to me and my breath caught in my throat.

"Ms Shabab, Mr. Lancaster. Mr Lancaster, Ms Shabab."

"How do you do?" we said together.

I couldn't stop myself from looking. She was even more spectacular up front. Smooth, ebony skin, high cheekbones. Wood would do for her, I thought.

"I saw some of your sculptures at the gallery Mr Lancaster," she said. "They're spectacular."

"Thank you Ms Shabab," I smiled.

"If I'm correct, you've done only one full statue," she remarked.

"Yes. They take too long to work on. I prefer busts," I explained.

"Really?" she had a mischievous smile on her face.

"I mean, busts are more interesting to work with," I said hastily.

"Oh," she lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes," I said. "Especially in the nude. There's a lot of detail."

"Interesting," she remarked. "And I suppose that's why you work only with female models?"

I averted my gaze. Was she being flirtatious or was she trying to get me to say something offensive? My eyes met hers again and I tried to gauge her intent.

"The female body is beautiful," I replied. "I feel privileged to replicate it in my work. Of course, in order to fully appreciate all its features, it has to be in the nude."

"It definitely shows in your work," she said. "I know this is hardly the place to discuss business. Can we talk sometime?"

"Definitely ma'am," I said politely and took her proffered hand.

It was a full fifteen minutes after she left that I opened my fist slightly to sneak a peek at the silky panties she had pressed into my palm.

_________________________________________________________

It was drizzling when I walked out of the gathering and made my way towards the black limousine described in the note concealed in the panties I had been given.

"Mr Lancaster?" the man standing beside the car asked.

"I'm Lancaster," I said.

He pulled open the door and ushered me into the darkness of the back seat before jogging around to get behind the wheel.

"Drive us around the city, Amar," the voice came from beside me.

The partition shot up and we were alone.

"I happen to do a little sculpturing, Mr Lancaster," the High Commissioner said.

"Really?" I asked, my throat dry. I wasn't listening to her. The thoughts running through my mind all ended with one common fact -- she wasn't wearing any underwear and I was still holding a pair of panties in my fist.

"Yes, mostly male," she sighed. "The phallus is such a sight isn't it?"

I was making rapid connections in my mind and it didn't take me long to figure who she was.

"You're the one called Shonell," I stated unnecessarily.

Shonell was an anonymous sculptor who only carved phalli -- with foreskins, circumcised, bisected, and all the other variants. Her work didn't show up in major art exhibitions but they thrived in the entertainment industry. A particular actor I knew was an ardent collector and I had one as a present from my ex.

In reply, she found my zipper in the darkness and extracted my cock. She wrapped her fingers around me and stroked up and down my shaft, then her tongue was in my ear and I was tingling from the sensations she evoked in me.

Our lips met in the darkness. She explored my lower lip, sucking on it, tasting it, teasing me, then moved to my upper lip. By the time her tongue found its way into my mouth I had overcome my nervousness and reached for her breasts.

They were pert and soft when I weighed them in my hands. I found the straps of her dress and tugged them down her shoulders, conscious all the time of her wily tongue dipping in and out of my mouth, never quite letting my own tongue catch u with it.

I undid her bra and cupped her breasts. my thumbs found her nipples and they tautened at my touch as I stroked them. I broke off the kiss and went after her breasts like a maddened bull. She stopped masturbating me and moaned softly, stroking my hair.

I pushed her away from me and located the hem of her dress in the darkness. Getting on my knees on the floor of the car, I buried my head between her thighs and got her cunt opening on the first try. This time the moans were louder and she gushed copiously onto my tongue. When she screamed, I knew I had brought her to orgasm.

Without giving her time to recover, I got into my seat and pulled her into my lap, impaling her on my cock. It seemed like forever before I got all of my dick into her, then I was gripping her ass and thrusting away.

I erupted inside her and as our mixed juices ran down my cock, I wondered if life got any better than this...

________________________________________________________

Yesterday a package arrived in the mail. Even before I opened it I knew it was from the woman known as Nadia to me, Shonell to others. I didn't have to measure the sculpture, but I did and it was a perfect fit.

I'm working on a bust now and I known I have the right dimensions. I just know.

The Real Fantasia

It was my second week at Q Corp. Everyone was friendly and seemed to go out of their way to make me feel at home. I'd met a few of the girls on my team and they were real lookers. I was waiting to survey the lie of the land before making a move.

"Hello Clarke!" someone stuck her head through the door of my cubicle. I turned.

It was Uemura, the petite chattery girl working with me on the profiling team.

"Hi Uemura!" I grinned, glad to get a break from what seemed to be intentionally obfuscated code.

She walked in and peered over my shoulder.

"Bob wrote that didn't he?" she asked.

I nodded and she sighed.

"We've been trying to get our clients to move to the new API. It's cleaner and faster. Meanwhile, inhouse we still have people like Bob using stuff we depreciated two revisions back."

"I think I've already checked in some of that," I said.

"Dan's going to raise hell when you tell him," she shook her head. "Sometimes I wish I could kick that Bob of an asshole in the nuts."

That was Uemura. Swearing and cursing in that cute accent while keeping a pretty, straight face. I smiled inwardly.

"I'm new here. I wouldn't want to challenge someone who's been here since you rolled out the very first version, if what I hear is true," I shrugged resignedly.

"I'll talk to him," she reassured me. "Did you get an invitation to the party?"

"What party?" I asked as the email notification box for my email program popped up. "There it is."

It was from Jenny, our project manager inviting us to a party at 7pm.

"What's it for?" I asked Uemura.

"Beats me," she lifted her shoulders slightly. "I guess you'll have to get used to it. We have parties all the time. After a while we stopped having any reasons. We just have parties and no reasons, yes?"

We laughed at her little joke.

"So tell me, Uemura-chan, are they any fun?" I asked.

"Normal stuff. Beer..."

"I teetotal."

"Tee-to-tal," she repeated. "I don't think I've heard that word before. What does it mean?"

"I can't give you a dictionary definition, but it means I don't drink alcohol."

"It's good you mentioned it. We can arrange something else for you."

"I don't understand," I was puzzled. "You said 'we.' Is it something you and Jenny are hosting together?"

"Parties are a company affair -- everyone pitches in," she explained. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it."

"I think I will," I replied.

She looked at her watch, signifying the small talk was over.

"I've got to get back to work," she said unnecessarily. "Just leave out the packages Bob worked on until we come to an agreement. It wouldn't make sense to check them in only to have Dan pull them out of the repository."

I watched her leave, my eyes on the subtle motion of her small, almost imperceptible ass under her jeans. I gulped, admonished myself for my roving eyes, then resumed working.

____________________________________________________________

That evening I had nothing doing. I'm not exactly a party man. My only recollections of parties were the ones from my college days -- loud music, too much booze, and then the smell of pot and whatever else people smoked.

I briefly contemplated not going but after channel-surfing for a few minutes with nothing interesting on TV, boredom finally got to me. I looked around for a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, making yet another mental note to do my laundry.

When I got in the party was already in full swing. The dance floor was alive with company executives jiving with low-level coders. The music blaring from the speakers was a cacophony of sounds that I wouldn't have termed music even if I was high on crack. Everyone seemed to be having a great time.

I walked to the bar to get a drink and while away time.

Bob was manning the bar. He had on a pair of headphones and was doing the best jig he could from behind the bar. I asked for a Coke and he poured me some brandy. I didn't complain. I found a seat and pretended to sip from my glass.

"Having a great time are we?" someone sat next to me, out of breath. She had obviously just come off the dance floor.

"Yes," my voice lacked conviction. Jenny laughed.

"It's pure bullshit, but it works because of what's to come later," she winked.

"Really?" I asked dryly.

"Yeah," she winked again, taking my hand. "Let's dance."

I didn't have time to protest. She dragged me onto the dance floor and I tried to move as well as I could with her.

There didn't seem to be any logic to our movements except that she was rubbing her breasts against my chest one moment, then the next had her back to me and was brushing her ass against the crotch of my jeans.

"This is tuneless!" I shouted above the din.

"It's meant to be!" she shouted back.

Good God, what have I gotten myself into? I wondered.

I excused myself and headed for the bathroom. When I pushed the door open, I stood open-mouthed.

I recognized one of the girls on my team backed against the wall. Her skirt and panties were in a pool around her high heels and kneeling before her, almost in reverence was an intern. His head was buried between her legs and from where I stood I could hear her moans as he licked her.

I was aware of my erection when the crotch of my jeans tightened. I had never realized I had the voyeur in me but I doubt they would have noticed me even if I had walked right up to them.

She stroked his hair adoringly, a look of pure lust on her face as his tongue played with her cunt. I saw him briefly disengage, then rise to his feet and penetrate her in one single thrust before I left hurriedly to cool off, the urge to relieve myself gone.

When I rejoined the party some more meaningful music was playing. Bob had taken off his headphones and I was able to get a Coke.

I retired into a corner to sip on my drink, the images of the intern going down on my colleague fresh in my mind and serving as a reminder that I hadn't gotten laid in months.

"May I have this dance?" I heard Uemura ask.

"Where've you been?" I turned to her.

"Do you want to dance or not?" she asked again. She pulled me to my feet before I could object and we joined the others on the dance floor.

Before long I was moving in ways I never knew I could. My partner was lively, and I found myself wondering why I'd thought it wasn't going to be swell minutes before.

A slow number was put on and Uemura came into my arms. I fished my handkerchief out of my pocket and helped her wipe the sweat on her face. She smiled gratefully.

I can't remember when we made contact but some moments later, she had her face buried in my chest. I rubbed her back gently, moving my hands slowly down until I got to the beginning of her bottom.

I took a deep breath when I slid my hands even lower until I was cupping her buttocks. I kneaded them gently, pulling her even closer.

"That feels nice," she sighed. "Rub my back."

We both knew I wasn't rubbing her back.

I kissed the top of her head, then buried my nose in her hair. She smelled wonderful -- sweaty from dancing, but wonderful.

Taking encouragement from her sighs, I hiked her short skirt up slightly, and massaged her warm, panty-clad bottom. She tilted her head upward and our eyes met. She was blushing.

I realized she was guiding us towards a darker corner. I turned so that I had my back to everyone and slipped my hands into her panties, my thumb finding her clit. She tilted her head up and we kissed -- slowly and tentatively at first, then wildly, not getting enough of our tongues.

My erection was more pronounced now and it rubbed against her abdomen. She rubbed her palm against my crotch, then deftly, unzipped my jeans and popped out my cock with some difficulty.

I was too far gone to care if everyone was watching. I peeled her panties down and my finger zeroed in on her asshole. I traced the wrinkles, somewhat smoothened by the sweat in her crack, and she jerked slightly.

"Relax," I whispered. She nodded as I spread her cheeks even further for unrestricted access.

Her fingers were wrapped around my cock and she masturbated me as gently as the lack of moisture allowed. The pressure was beginning to build up at the base of my shaft. I wanted her to stop... but I didn't want her to stop.

When my cock jerked, she spun me around to face the others. I was aghast but there was little I could do. There was a thrill from the taboo-ness of facing the group and shooting my cum across the room from my pulsing cock.

When it was over and I began to soften, I stood facing them sheepishly. I had no idea how I was going to make a graceful exit. I scanned the room slowly, my eyes connecting with each person's, trying to gauge their reaction to what had happened.

Everyone was silent and I felt beads of cold sweat forming on my neck and running down the hollow of my back.

Whatever expectation I had of what would happen next didn't include Bob giving me the thumbs up from behind the bar, then the eruption as everyone cheered.

It was surreal. I looked round again and slowly, realization dawned on me.

I was at an orgy.

Jenny was straddled over Dan's lap but I could see his cock, glistening with her juices, between her legs. Mubarak, the Pakistani DBA has his hand inside the blouse of one of the marketing executives. Everywhere I looked, I saw people getting it on.

I turned to Uemura. She had stepped out of her panties and skirt and was wearing a broad grin on her face.

"Why, you witch!" I said in mock anger.

She laughed, then turned and ran. I followed.

We dashed out of the party room, heading for the offices. She turned a corner and when I went round it, she jumped into my arms, knocking the wind out of me.

She wrapped her legs around me and we kissed again, taking our time this time. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I supported her by placing my hands under her bottom.

I moved to the wall and held her against it.

"Why didn't you tell me it was an orgy?" I asked.

"You wouldn't have come if I told you, would you?" she asked back.

I thought for a moment, then shook my head, "No."

With my teeth, I ripped off the buttons of her blouse. She wasn't wearing a brassiere. I played with her breasts, holding her nipples lightly between my teeth and flicking my tongue against the tips. She held my head to her, the low moans coming from her throat telling me I was doing well.

I went lower, licking down her abdomen, enjoying the salty taste of her skin. I paused briefly at her navel and she giggled like a schoolgirl when I sucked on it.

I moved still lower but it wasn't bright enough for me in the corridor. I lifted her off the floor and headed for the conference room.

Without breaking my stride, I switched on the lights and placed her on the table.

"Is this necessary?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I want to see all of you. I want to see your pussy."

And your asshole, I didn't add. I would probably have freaked her out if I'd said that.

I parted the soft folds of flesh and began to lick, Her legs opened wider as she moaned with pleasure. When my tongue found her hiding clit, she grabbed my head and came violently.

I wet my finger in her cum and brushed it against her anus. Her orgasm hadn't subsided and it was a while after she was done cumming before she noticed. She was strangely quiet, not moving except for the occasional flex of the ring of muscle. I could tell it was a new experience for her and she was too shy to talk about something that taboo.

"Well?" I prompted, breaking the silence, my finger stroking her. "What do you think?"

"Freaky," she whispered. "I can't believe I'm enjoying this."

I chuckled. "That's normal," I said. "It's pretty."

My dick was back to life again. She helped me step out of my denims. Taking my penis in her hand, she brushed it against her slit, then eased the head in. She was so wet I slid in without much effort. I placed my hands under her hips and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

The walls of her velvety cunt, smooth and slippery with her juices felt like heaven. I thrust away enthusiastically, never wanting the moment to end. We both came at the same time and my cum was still scalding her sugar walls when she flipped us over on the conference table and began to ride me.

Surprisingly, my erection hadn't subsided. I played with her asshole as I moved my hips to meet her bouncing on my cock. I could feel another orgasm building up. There was the familiar tingling sensation at the base of my cock...

___________________________________________________________

...And then I felt the wetness of soaked my boxers. I tossed off the sheets and switched on the bedside lamp. The time by the clock said it was 7:00am.

Damnit, I was late!

I shaved and washed in record time, grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants I saw and joined the rush hour traffic.

When I walked into the Q Corp building, I hurried to my cubicle to see if I could get done with my assigned task before 9.

I found Uemura behind my workstation, calmly tapping away at the keyboard.

"Hello Clarke," she said without turning.

"Hi," I said. "Thanks for the help."

She turned round and flashed me a smile. "We all help each other here -- it's really nothing."

"I'm sorry I overslept," I explained. "I had some silly dream that..."

I stopped, realizing I had almost given it away.

She swiveled round to face me. "What dream?"

"It's nothing," I said hastily. "Something about a wild party."

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "You'd better hurry along and see Jenny then. I'd like to hear about your dream."

I plopped my laptop bag on the desk and hurried to Jenny's office.

When I pushed open the door, my mouth hung open. She was bent over her desk and Dan was stabbing his dick in and out of her from behind.

"Hello Clarke," she called cheerily. "Would you like to join us?"

"Ummm, no," I said quickly and shut the door.

When I got back to my cubicle, Uemura was waiting for me.

"I'm not sure I understand," I said, embarrassed. "I don't remember driving back home."

"That's because I fucked you out," she said the words easily. "Bob and Ivan took you home."

I nodded, dazed.

"You look tense," she remarked. "Do you want me to give you a blowjob?"

"What?!"

"Relax," she said. "It's like asking you if you want a drink."

She brushed past me. When she reached the doorway, she stopped and said, "Don't forget I offered you one."

This was going to take some getting used to.

Masseuse

I don't particularly fancy being near smokers -- especially women smokers -- but as the woman leaning against the railing got out a cigarette, I found myself watching her -- intently. She fumbled in her handbag for a minute then threw a casual glance in my direction.

I waited as she walked towards me, taking my time to admire her smooth, tanned legs.

"Excuse me," she said. "Do you have a lighter?"

"I don't smoke," I replied. "But I've got some matches."

I lit her cigarette for her, finding something sensuous in the way she took a drag and blew the smoke out. We stood looking out to sea.

She was leaning slightly away from me and from time to time, I let my eyes wander over the tight small buttocks so wonderfully outlined in her white shorts.

She coughed when she sucked in too much smoke.

"Smoking's not good for your health, you know," I said.

"I know," she replied between coughs. "I smoke when I'm nervous and I haven't been nervous in six years."

"Seasick?" I asked. She nodded.

We were silent for a few minutes and I continued my discrete survey of her bottom.

"Feel any better?" I asked. She shook her head coughing again. I took the cigarette from her and crushed it under my shoe.

"I know just the right thing," I smiled down at her. "You're tense, too many positive ions. A massage perhaps?"

She took off her dark glasses and our eyes met. From the searching way she looked at me, I could tell she was trying to determine my motives.

"Well?" I held my hand out. She took it and together we went upstairs to my suite.

I got a towel and handed it to her.

"You can change here," I said, adding. "I won't look."

I went into the bedroom and changed into lighter clothing. When I returned she was lying face down on the table, the white towel draped over her butt. Her clothes were draped over the chair and a thrill shot through me when I noticed her panties were at the top.

She had the smoothest, toned skin I'd ever seen, the bra strap lines on her back her only blemish. My hands trembled with anticipation as I uncorked the bottle of massage oil Id gotten the day before. I poured some onto her back and smoothed it over, massaging her shoulder blades and neck before focusing on her back.

The towel didn't exactly cover her butt completely and I could just make out where the small of her back ended and her butt crack began. My hands stopped just shy of her bottom every time I moved down and I had to resist the urge to yank the towel off and fondle her ass.

When I was done with her back I moved around the table to her legs and feet and applied the oil. As I lifted each leg to rub some underneath, I sneaked peeks at her snatch. She was wet.

After a while of working on her legs I heard her say, "Do my butt."

I flipped the towel off her butt in record time, so excited I poured to much oil onto her skin.

I placed my palms on her warm ass and kept them there without moving.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"It's a technique I call 'Blessing the butt,'" I said, quickly beginning to massage her bum.

From time to time, I pulled her ass cheeks slightly apart and peered at her pink butthole.

"What are you doing?" she asked again after I'd parted the lobes of her buttocks for longer than was necessary.

"Er..." My mind couldn't conjure something fast enough this time.

"Quit fooling around and stick your finger in me," she said huskily, a touch of excitement in her voice.

My middle finger zigzagged up and down her slit until I found her entrance. She was a tight fit and my cock jerked in my shorts in anticipation of what lay ahead.

I brushed her wrinkled starfish with my thumb as I finger-fucked her. As she got wetter, she spread her legs wider. When she came, I leaned over and licked her juices off her cunt.

She sat up on the table, her cheeks flushed with excitement, her lips moist and parted. She reached up with her hands and pulled me down to her. We kissed slowly, then as we heated up, our tongues became wilder. I loved the way she tasted sans the cigarette-smokey taste.

We came up for air, panting. After catching my breath, I went for her breasts. She had small tits with unusually long nipples. I admired them briefly, rolling them between my fingers before sucking on them, one after the other.

She pushed me away after a while.

"That was a very unique massage," she said, getting off the table. I was only partially listening. I only had eyes for her nipples and I wished she would let me go back to sucking on them.

"Thanks," I said.

"For someone who's never given a massage, you do know how to make a woman feel good," she said to me and I wondered how she had known.

"Aren't you a tad overdressed?" she asked, then without waiting for a reply. "Let's get your clothes off and I'll show you how we masseuses do it."

I took off my t-shirt and stepped out of my shorts. Somehow, I knew I was going to get a massage I would remember for a very long time.

Restrained II: The Exhibition

She stood a little distance in front of him. He wished she had given one of his hands a little leeway. He'd have gotten himself off just by watching her disrobe.

She unwrapped the sari slowly and carefully and when it finally came off he waited for her to take off her choli. Instead, she stood there looking down at him.

"Why did you stop?" he asked impatiently.

"I said I was only going to take off my sari," she replied demurely.

"Well, take everything off," he said.

He licked his dry lips with anticipation, his hungry eyes following the elimination of her choli, then her pavada. When she took off her bra he asked her to stop.

She had the pert, upturned breasts he would have expected on a twenty year old body. Her dark, unusually long nipples stood proudly at attention. His mouth watered as he thought of the hours he'd have loved to spend just sucking on them.

"Let's see what you've got down there," he drawled.

She rolled her panties down her legs and stepped out of them. Unlike most Indian women, she didn't have a full bush. She had shaved her mound down to a smooth, crisp, landing strip that tapered as it approached the beginnings of her cunt lips.

"Alright, lean a little back with your legs slightly apart," he ordered. "I'd like you to stick a finger in your cunt."

"What's cunt?" she appeared confused.

"Your choot," he prompted.

He watched her finger slide completely into her body and without being prompted, slide some distance out completely covered in shiny fluid. He was so mesmerized that for a while he didn't give any commands as she masturbated. When she began to moan and twiddle her clit, her eyes closed as if she were in rapture, he debated within himself whether to let her come or to prolong her misery. Looking down at his hard, precum-oozing cock, he made his decision.

"Stop!" he called out.

Her hand stopped moving and she looked at him with what could have been the look on his face when she teased him. He countered her glowering by sticking out his tongue.

"Turn around," he said. She backed him and he checked out her smooth derriere. Not too big, not too flat. again, he wished he wasn't bound. he'd have fondled her ass cheeks and pulled them apart and...

"Bend over," he said. "Spread your ass for me."

When she bent over and pulled her butt cheeks apart, his cock twitched involuntarily. His eyes lingered briefly on the moisture on her thighs then moved up. Her dark pussy lips extended to her anus where they simply ceased to exist.

His eyes settled on her dark brown rosebud, the object of his quest. He wondered if she knew he wasn't exactly admiring her rear view. The wrinkly, slightly sweaty orifice winked slightly as she breathed slowly. He looked down at his cock which was by now bathed in sticky precum. He was so hard it was beginning to hurt.

"Can you stick a finger in your ass for me?" As soon as the words left his mouth he knew he had made a mistake. She stiffened, her hands dropped and she turned to face him.

"Do I look like a..." she began.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he cut her off. "But I didn't make the rules."

"That's true," she stuck a finger in her mouth, pretending to think. "But since you've done something I don't like I'm going to fuck you."

"What!" he couldn't believe his ears. "You should have told me this long ago."

She simply smiled as she slipped a condom on his penis and sat astride him. The virginal tits were finally his. He sucked on her nipples while she rode him , almost losing all feeling in his loins as he concentrated on his suckling.

Suddenly she had her hands around him and was squeezing him for all her worth. He was a bit alarmed until he felt her quim convulse around his dick.

When she was done cumming, her grip loosened and she stopped moving. She got off him and turned around to climb him reverse-cowgirl. This time she wasn't as slow as she had been before. Her ass rubbing against his abdomen as she bounced up and down his cock, it was hard not to come. She moaned as she climaxed with him, coming to a halt when they both ended.

She remained in his lap and they caught their breath.

"Can I go now?" he asked.

"Not until Ahmad and Khashif have worked on you," she replied.

It was his turn to stiffen.

"Get your mind out of the gutter, Mr Lone," she leaned back, resting the back of her head on his shoulder. "We can't take you across the border looking like this. You need a new identity as well as a new face. They're very good at making my agents up."

It took a while for realization to dawn on him. He had just fucked his controller.

"I thought Agent Prajit was a man!" he exclaimed.

"Apparently not," she replied. "By the way, your Urdu sucks -- as you Americans would put it."

"I know," he admitted sheepishly. "I only learnt the dirty words."

She climbed off him and untied his bonds.

"You'd better get dressed before Ahmad and Khashif come in," she instructed, still managing to sound professional whilst naked.

"I will," he said. "I will..."

Longlasting Erection

The males among our species have been bested by a reptile -- a week-long erection and two dicks certainly is something the ladies would love to investigate.

I'm still working on the second part of Restrained. What I have here is a bit anticlimatic so I'm brushing it up. Again, let's hope tonight is the night I'm not too lazy to put it up.

Restrained

He took off his cuff links and rolled up his sleeves. The contact hadn't shown up yet and he was beginning to get nervous. He looked around without appearing to do so.

Henri had only been one week in India. All around him people were talking in Hindi, Urdu and whatever other blasted languages they spoke. He glanced at his watch again. Agent Prajit had promised to turn up by 6:00pm. He'd been waiting for close to thirty minutes. He wondered if this was how the agency ran business in India.

He summoned a passing waiter and told him to cancel his order and bring him his bill. The waiter returned a few minutes later, a look of awe on his face.

"Someone say she want to have dinner with you," he bowed.

"I'm sorry Monsieur but I've got business to attend to," Henri said. "Now if you'll tell me what my bill is..."

"She have already pay for your drink," the waiter said. He inclined his head slightly, almost imperceptibly, indicating a corner of the restaurant.

She was in a bright green sari, smiling slightly at him. He jerked his gaze away and counted out some rupees onto the table.

"Give these to her," he said. "I don't have time for chodna tonight."

He headed for the toilet leaving the waiter standing open mouthed at the table he had vacated.

When he had relieved himself, he looked in the drop point but couldn't find anything. He walked out of the restaurant and headed for his car.

The lady in the green sari was sitting on the hood of his car, examining herself nonchalantly in a mirror. The hem of her sari rode up her thigh and he had to remind himself that light brown flesh wasn't something he ought to be admiring at this place and time. She turned to face him, one of those fuck-me-now pouts on her lips.

"Why didn't you have dinner with me?" she placed her hand on his chest. Her English was surprisingly good and she had just a faint accent.

"I'm sorry," he shrugged her hand off. "I need to be off somewhere. I'm assuming the money the waiter gave you was more than enough to cover what you'd make in five busy nights?"

"What?" she was no longer pouting.

"Get off the hood of my car," he said, impatient. Prajit must have been blown. Logically, the cartel would be onto him. He wondered how much time he had left.

Her face went hard and she called out something in Urdu. Two sinister looking turbaned men appeared and took hold of him.

"Hey!" he protested. One of them hit him over the head and he passed out.

When he came to, he was strapped in a chair. His tie was gone, his shirt was unbuttoned all the way down and he was missing his shoes. He struggled uselessly against his bonds until he was sure they weren't loose before he began to take in his surroundings.

He was in the center of a large room -- ornately furnished and well-lit. The curtains at the entrance were drawn and he considered himself judged restrained by his captors. He looked quickly around for a sharp edge he could manoeuvre his chair to.

The curtains parted and someone stepped in. It was the lady in the sari. She had her hands behind her back and walked with her chest stuck out in a provocative way. He couldn't believe he was getting hard when the future of his country rested on him not being here at this moment.

"You've got an impressive penis, Mr Henri," she stuck out her tongue, He followed her gaze and noted with embarrassment that the crotch of his trousers was elevated by his erection.

"I thought I paid you?" he asked.

"Not in kind," she reached him, then knelt in front of him and unzipped his trousers.

"When you're invited to eat with a minister's daughter you'd better be polite," she said, reaching inside his trousers and pulling his cock out. This was beginning to look like something straight out of a certain demented professor's erotic fantasies.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"I'm doing what you paid me for," she replied as she stroked him.

"Wait!" he protested. "I'm sorry about what happened this evening. I didn't mean to insult you.. argggghhhh..."

His cock was in her mouth and she was sucking him, her head oscillating up and down his shaft. God, he wanted to cum. He wanted to fill her mouth with his seed. He clenched his jaw as he prepared to ejaculate.

Abruptly, she stopped and got to her feet.

"You chose to fuck with the wrong person," she said, stepping back. "We're going to play a game."

He was looking at her with pure, undisguised anger. His balls were still tingling from wanting to come. If she had even blown air lightly on his cock he would have come -- the urgency was that much.

"These are the rules," she walked around him. "In two minutes I'm going to take off my sari. You're going to be free to tell me whatever you want me to do here, excluding anything that'll bring us in contact -- or set you free. When we're done Ahmad and Khashif will work on you."

At the back of his mind, a plan was forming. If he couldn't get away from this rich lunatic, he could at least enjoy himself.

"I'm ready," he said.

Playing the Shawna Game II: Consummation

I would have loved to keep kissing her forever if she had let me.

My hardened cock pushed up between her ass cheeks and her weight began to tell on me. I adjusted her carefully in my lap and moved my hands back to her hits. I squeezed them gently, my thumbs flicking over the taut nipples. She moaned hungrily into my mouth as our tongues tangoed. Damn, she could kiss like hell! I moved my hands to her back and was tracing a line down her back when the doorbell rang.

She swore as she gathered her t-shirt and bra and fled to the bedroom. I adjusted my trousers and went to answer the door. It was a delivery. I took the package, tipped the delivery boy and made my way to the bedroom.

I stopped in the doorway, mesmerized. Shawna was lying naked on her side facing the mirror with her back to me. The rear view was mouth watering, especially the way the full mauve lips of her pussy peeked out at me from the juncture of her ass and legs.

"Are you going to stand there drooling over my ass or are you going to drop that box and come over?" she asked without moving.

Our eyes met in the mirror. She smiled at me, then stuck out her tongue teasingly.

I dropped the package quickly and went to sit on the bed. I skimmed my hand over her smooth rump then leaning down, pulled her buttock upward and speared her cunt with my tongue. She moaned softly as I tongued her, my tongue flicking rapidly in and out of her.

She bucked her ass into my face and came. There's something about seeing a woman come from behind. I pulled back to enjoy the view, then leaned in to lap up her juices When her orgasm subsided, I licked up her back to her neck, savoring the salty, female taste of her.

She sat up and turned to face me. She fondled my member through my denims. I thought I would come any moment.

She stopped rubbing me and began to help me off with my clothes. My shirt, my jeans, then my boxers came off in seconds. When my circumcised nine-incher made it's appearance, I could see her eyes glimmer with anticipation.

She wrapped her hand around my stiff cock and began to masturbate me. I moved my hips to her tempo, fucking her hand as she jerked me off. She stopped and got on her knees in front of me.

She licked the precum off the tip of my penis and looked up at me, licking her lips teasingly. When she swallowed me whole I leaned back slightly to enjoy. She began to move, making the bed shake under me.

I doubt she would have thought of sucking me off if she knew how close I was to coming, and that I hadn't gotten laid in months. In less than a minute I was hitting the back of her throat with hot jism. She sputtered on my cock as the cum rolled out of her mouth but I've got to give it to her -- she simply kept going until she had it all out, then dashed to the bathroom.

When I reached her, she was bent over the sink gargling. Talk about a turnoff.

I placed my hands on her shoulder and asked, "Are you okay?"

She nodded, still gargling. I rubbed her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"That's okay," she turned from the sink. "You hit me with a super load back there."

I cupped her bottom and lifted her off the floor onto my shoulder. She giggled as I took her back to the bedroom and deposited her on the bed.

"What's funny?" I asked.

"Nothing," she said. "I just got freaked out when I suddenly had my mouth full."

I shrugged and made her lie across my lap. When I parted the lobes of her butt she stiffened slightly.

"What're you doing?" she asked.

"Just looking," I replied as I spread them even further, exposing her asshole.

"Are you a freak or something?" she asked when I stroked her anus with my index finger.

"Do you want me to stop?" I asked.

She was silent for a while then said, "No. It just feels weird -- and naughty..."

I've never been able to explain my fascination with women's bum holes. It might be the exclusive feeling that comes from looking at such a private region, or the look on a woman's face while I play with her butthole. And I think the wrinkles are adorable. Gosh I'm crazy!

So there we were, Shawna giggling like a schoolgirl and squirming in my lap as I tickled her asshole, her inhibitions completely gone. I was beginning to get hard again. I leaned over and kissed her neck before I made her sit up.

From there she took charge. She pushed me onto the bed and straddled my cock, holding my arms down as she impaled herself on my shaft. She was super tight and we took some time to get me in.

When she had me buried to the hilt in her, she ground her clit against the base of my cock , then began to move -- slowly at first, then as she got wetter, she increased her tempo while still holding me down. Soon the bed was creaking as she fucked me wildly.

She came once but kept going like a wild animal. I was beginning to lose my breath as she attacked me with her cunt. This was fucking. This was furious fucking. I loved it.

There was that tingling sensation in my cock and then I was emptying my spunk into her as she came. She kept moving, decreasing her tempo until our orgasms subsided before collapsing on me, finally releasing my hands.

I stroked her hair while we caught our breaths.

"Tell me, have I ever been an object of your fantasy?" she asked.

"No," I replied.

She lifted her head off my chest to give me one of those searching looks.

"Liar!" she said finally. We laughed...

Playing the Shawna Game

Recently, one of my readers told me she'd like to see longer posts. I'm assuming this is because, unlike most erotica writers, I try to develop a storyline, eliminating [most of] the repetitiveness and most of the time keep things as realistic as possible (see As It Is). While trying to do some 'character development' I came up with a long post (which I still haven't finished, by the way). I hope you don't get too bored.

___________________________________________________

Ken executed a flawless Kuzuuryu Reppa against Garuda, ending in a knockout.

I dropped the joystick and wiped off the sheen of perspiration that had formed on my face. For the first time ever, I'd beaten Garuda on 'Hard' in Streetfighter Ex3 Plus, and that is no walkover, if I may say.

The doorbell rang. I got off the floor and went to answer the door. It was Shawna.

For a while we stood staring at each other, then she stood on tiptoe and planted a light, effusive kiss on my lips.

"You look good," she said.

I looked down at my ragged jeans with the knee-holes, and then at my feet with the long, broken toenails. We both laughed.

"Come in," I said, taking her coat.

She sat in the love seat facing the television.

"Can I get you a drink?" I asked.

"Just water," she replied, as I knew she would. Ever since I've known her, she's been one of those health nuts who don't drink anything except water or freshly squeezed un-genetically modified fruit juice.

I got a bottle of spring water from the fridge and a glass from the kitchen. On my way back I put on my shirt.

I joined her on the love seat and watched her as she held the glass up to the light before drinking from it. I could tell she was slightly troubled.

"So for two months I try to call you and you keep hanging up on me. Suddenly, you turn up on my doorstep..." I blurted out. Oops, I hadn't exactly meant to let it out that way. Oops!

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I should be apologizing," she said gently, trying to smile. "I'm sorry."

"Oh no no, that's okay," I said. "How's Mark?"

Her face clouded over.

"That bad?" I asked. She nodded.

"You split up?" she nodded again, and I put two and two together.

"When you broke up with him you didn't want to talk to anyone," I stated unnecessarily. She nodded once more.

"Oh, baby, I'm awfully sorry," I put my arm around her and pulled her to me. She rested her head on my shoulder.

"You could have talked to me," I said. "I'm always here."

"I know," she whispered.

After a while she pulled away. She seemed to be handling it well.

I picked my joystick and reset the game.

"Are you up for a game?" I asked.

"Sure," she placed the glass carefully on the side stool and picked the second joystick.

We chose our fighting characters and soon I was pommelling her character without mercy.

"Where do you live now?" I let her character hit mine a couple of times.

"I'll write down the address when I'm leaving," she replied.

I went into Excel and executed a flurry of combos.

"That's not fair," she protested. I grinned.

"You know, when I was a greenhorn like you..." I began. She rolled her eyes at me. "When I was a greenhorn like you, I beat a lot of experienced guys by 'rubbing.'"

"How do you do that?" she asked.

"It's simple. You place your joystick under your shirt and glide your thumbs over the controls," I explained.

"How?" she asked again.

I took her joystick from her and snuck my hand under her t-shirt. My fingers grazed her breasts and I withdrew my hand as quickly as I'd have done if I'd touched live coals.

"I-I'm sorry," I stammered, embarrassed.

"That's okay," she smiled at me. "It's not like you haven't touched them before, remember?"

We'd been friends since childhood, growing up next door to each other. I'd defended her against some of the other bullies in the street since I was five and her mom used to call me her little boyfriend, which made Shawna jealous.

When she started to grow breasts, she would tell me about the pain, and show them to me. I would feel them, making remarks about how much bigger they'd grown since the last time.

It had all been innocent play -- nothing overtly sexual -- until her father barged in on us one day. The rage on his face terrified me and I was more than happy to get away when he ordered me to leave and never talk to his daughter again.

Her mother had given her a lecture, then pleaded with her father on my behalf. The boob play had stopped, and we hadn't been allowed to meet in our usual hideout anymore.


I looked away from her, as embarrassed as I could be. I heard her unclasp her bra and when I turned to her, she had lifted the hem of her shirt and I was staring at the twins. Something stirred in my jeans.

"They're bigger now," she said. "Go on, touch them..."

I took the soft globes in my hands and felt them the way I had ten years before. Was it just me, or were her nipples erect? I pulled away.

"I don't think this is a good idea," I said.

"What isn't good about it?" she was still holding her shirt up and there was no doubt about it now -- her nipples were hard. "You're afraid you'll be tempted to fuck me. That's it, isn't it?'

Shawna was always the one to put things a little too candidly.

"Yes," I admitted.

"What's wrong with that?" she asked. She scuttled her butt over until her face was mere centimeters from mine.

"I don't want to hurt you," I said. "I don't want to make you feel like this will help you get over Mark."

She had this hurt look on her face and I knew I was partly right.

Our gazes were locked and we breathed slowly. I loved the feel of her breath on my face.

Her next move took me completely by surprise.

"Screw Mark," she said, taking her top off and plopping her ripe bottom in my lap.

"I'm going to have you whether you want it or not," she said huskily.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed. Her lips clamped down on mine, silencing my protests.

I really didn't have any choice did I? I accepted her tongue into my mouth and reached for her tits, this time showing none of my earlier reserve.

Let's hope I get around to writing the real 'fucking session' after this.

Le Bibliothécaire

The library was becoming less busy. The only people we ever got were the old, bookish professors doing research. Young kids didn't read anymore and I was sure they never would -- at least not until video games become extinct.

My nose was buried in a Zane novel, and I was enjoying the scene so well I didn't notice him come in and stop in front of my desk.

He coughed discreetly and I looked up sharply, a little annoyed at being interrupted, scared perhaps that it was my boss and he had caught me reading Zane. My feelings of animosity melted away when our eyes met.

'Hi,' he said shyly.

'Hello,' I nudged my glasses up a bit. 'I'm Marsha O'Donnell. How may I help you?'

'Um...' he scratched at the stubble under his chin. 'I'm looking for a book called Riders of the Purple Sage.'

'Riders of the Purple Sage,' I repeated mechanically, checking out his features. He couldn't have been more than 24, all of 6ft 3, and the boyish grin had a certain charm to it. Final verdict -- gorgeous.

'It's by a writer called Zane,' he continued. 'I've spent two hours looking for a Z-section.'

'There's no Z-section in the Library of Congress cataloging system,' I informed him as I put the keywords into my computer. 'There you are, Riders of the Purple Sage by Zane Grey.'

I scribbled the call number on a piece of paper and handed it to him.

'How do I find it?' he asked, still looking confused. That was when I noticed the accent.

'Mr...' I prompted.

'Professor Cohan,' he corrected.

'I'm sorry,' I gushed. 'You look too young to be one... I mean, I've never met one this young. I'd never have guessed...'

'That's okay,' he reassured me gently. 'I'm sure you were wondering why a professor couldn't find his way in a library. You Americans don't exactly use the same cataloging systems as the British.'

'You're British?'

'Irish,' he replied. 'If you're not married, I'd say you've got some Irish blood on your father's side...'

My face tightened when he mentioned my father and his voice trailed off.

'Here,' I interrupted him, snatching the paper from him. 'Let's go find your book.'

Together we headed for the P shelves. The P shelves are almost always the largest section of every library (if you leave out the newspapers and journals) as they contain Language and Literature.

We spent a while looking for the catalog number probably because I wanted to spend some time with him. I finally 'located' the book.

I never realized how close he was to me until I bent to pick the book. My ass brushed against something hard. I heard him suck in his breath. For a moment we didn't move or speak. I swiped my ass against his crotch again, and he let out a low groan.

Suddenly, the pressure against my bum was gone. Before I could turn around to find out why, I felt the cool air from the air conditioner fan my thighs as he flipped my skirt over my back.

He rolled my panties down and began to plant soft, feathery kisses all over my ass. I felt my cheeks being spread. The cold air hit my sweaty asshole and I cried out as his tongue plunged into my honeywell.

Riders of the Purple Sage tumbled to the floor. I moved my hands behind me to help hi spread the lobes of my buttocks, moaning as his playful tongue flicked in and out of my cunt.

I shut my eyes, allowing myself to enjoy his pleasuring. His tongue moved up, hesitated, then moved up again.

'No,' I whispered as his tongue lapped at my rosebud. 'No!'

He kept at it and my pleas gradually weakened until I fell silent, listening to the slurping sounds as his tongue swabbed my anus, enjoying the incredibly nasty feeling that came with doing something so naughty. For a moment, his tongue left me, and then his finger jabbed in sending a massive shock wave through me. I grabbed the shelf for support as my orgasm hit, biting on my lower lip to stifle a cry as the waves of pleasure washed over me.

I straightened up and when I turned around, he already had his trousers down and his cock sticking out of his shirt tails. His dick was average, but the balls were something else -- huge and covered with hair. I got down on my knees and stroked his cock slowly, licking on the underside before taking him into my mouth.

His nuts wouldn't fit in my small hand so I contented myself with rubbing them gently. After a minute he held my head away from him, stopping me in mid stroke. He pulled his cock out slowly and I could tell he had been about to come.

'Condom?' he asked, then realized how silly the question was.

Before I could say Jack Robinson he had me bent over touching my toes as he slammed me for all his worth. My glasses kept dropping to the end of my nose and I kept nudging them up. I took them off and was about to drop them on the shelf when he stopped me.

'Leave them on,' he said.

I put them back on and he turned me around, entering me from the front.

'Someone's coming,' he whispered in my ear.

A thrill shot through me and I held on tight to him. Within seconds he had me coming and then quickly pulled out.

'Get dressed,' he whispered urgently, stopping to pick his trousers. I saw his cock jerk once, twice, shooting his come all over the floor and the books on the bottom row as he worked his trousers up his legs.

The footsteps were closer now. I quickly yanked up my panties and let my skirt fall in place, then picked up Riders of the Purple Sage and handed it to him.

'Thank you Marsha,' he said, giving my bum a squeeze and then he was gone. I never saw him again.

Kenyan Beauty

Thanks to everyone for reading, and waiting. I've had a few problems I had to deal with in the last few weeks and they apparently dampened my imagination. I'm back and I hope you'll continue to read the stories that can only be found here at Carpe Nostrum.

"Do you want to come up?" I asked.

Chanya hesitated, chewing on her fleshy lowerlip. I leaned on the door frame, smiling down at her, waiting for her to make a decision.

"The party's not until ten," I urged. "And I'm doing some cooking."

"Kamau?" she asked.

If her brother found out there was going to be hell. Kamau was my best friend and the biggest playboy in town. Surprisingly, when it came to his sister he was very protective.

"Kamau is my friend," I replied. "It's not as if we're going to do anything -- he knows I won't take advantage of you. We'll eat and watch a movie or two until it's time for the party."

My excuse sounded lame to me but it must have worked. She flashed me a smile and came up the stairs. I busied her with a drink and one of the chicklit novels my ex-girlfriend had left behind, then walked into the kitchen.

It was hot and the air conditioning was faulty. I made a mental note to notify my landlady when she came for the rent. I took off my shirt and was chopping some carrots while the meat boiled when she walked in. She moved silently, the smell of her perfume getting stronger as she approached me. I kept working, pretending to be oblivious to her presence.

She squeezed my shoulders from behind and I gave them a convincing jerk, then relaxed.

"Smells good," she said. "Most men I know can't cook -- even Kamau."

"Well, I was the only boy in the family. I spent all my time in the kitchen with my sisters and..." her cool, slender fingers had moved around me. She stroked my chest, then moved down to rub my six-pack.

"Go on," she leaned on me. I could feel her hard nipples through her blouse as she rubbed her breasts on my back.

"I was petted by my sisters, as the youngest in the family," I resumed, conscious of my jeans tightening at the crotch as I got aroused. Being in the kitchen, munching on bits and pieces of what was being cooked, I naturally learned how to cook. Anyway... ah!" she had unbuttoned the top of my jeans and unzipped it, taking out my semi-hard cock.

"Is something wrong?" she asked sweetly.

"Of course not," I tried unsuccessfully to match her tone. She picked a jar of mayonnaise off the shelf directly over my head. I focused on carefully cutting the carrots, trying not to cut myself as she coated my fully erect cock and began to stroke up and down my shaft.

"Careful," I warned. "You don't want me cumming all over the carrots."

She stood on tiptoe and bit my ear. I yelped when she stretched my earlobe with her teeth. She released it.

"Shut up," she said, continuing to jerk me off. I dropped the knife in the sink and lifted my hands above my head, giving her room. I moved my hips to her tempo, fucking her hand.

She reached between my legs with her free hand and cupped my balls. There was a familiar tingling sensation at the base of my cock and before I could warn her I shot my seed all over the sink and the carrots. She released me and came round to survey her handiwork.

"You naughty girl," I admonished lightly. I cupped the swell of her soft but firm ass. She wiggled her hips, rubbing her ass against my hand. "Now we can't eat the carrots."

Chanya calmly picked one of the cum-covered carrots and munched on it.

"Well?" she asked, turning to me, arms akimbo.

I tilted her face upward and we kissed. Placing my hands on her bum, I pulled her closer.

The feel of her soft breasts rubbing against my chest brought my flaccid penis to life. With a will o fits own, it swung upward until it was poking against her.

I pulled way and stepped out of my encumbering jeans. I pulled her to me again and began to take off her clothes, starting with her blouse. The bra she was wearing had holes through which her puffy, dark nipples poked. Little wonder I could feel them.

I unhooked the clasps of her bra and dumped it unceremoniously on the kitchen floor. I held both tits reverently, palming her nipples. When I took a nipple in my mouth, she let out an almost imperceptible sigh. I flicked my tongue around the hard bud, getting almost pleasure from pleasuring her as she got from being pleasured.

I knelt down on the floor and kissed her abdomen. I sucked briefly on her belly button and she giggled feverishly, trying half-heartedly to push my head away, yet enjoying the tickling sensation. As I played with her, I unzipped her skirt and let it fall in a puddle at her feet. I left off playing with her navel and leaned back as I tugged her panties down to reveal her landing strip.

There was a lot of moisture around her slit and her thighs were wet. She parted her legs automatically and I lapped at her entrance, seeking her clit with my tongue. When I found it, she came, as if on cue, her fluid pouring out like a deluge, hitting my tongue, chin and the floor. I held her bottom to steady her until the convulsions ceased.

When I rose to my feet her eyes were closed. I kissed her gently and she opened them.

"That was fantastic," she murmured. Her eyes opened wide and she let out a gasp when I drove my cock into her. I lifted her off the ground and moved her up and down my cock, while she had her hands around her neck and clung to me for dear life. I slammed her hard enjoying the wobble of her breasts on my chest and the way her breath got knocked out with each thrust.

I could tell she was on the brink of orgasm when her cunt tightened around me. She held me tighter as her juices gushed onto my cock. With a low growl, I came, covering her sugar walls with my spunk.

We spent a while catching our breaths, then we were at it again, fucking in every possible position. After what must have been her hundredth orgasm and my fifth, we slumped on the floor.

I looked up at the clock.

"We're never going to make it," I said tiredly.

"We can always..." she reached for my sore cock.

"The rice's burning," I pushed her hand away.

"Who cares?" she asked. She grabbed at me again...

Tennis

"Five-all," I announced as the green ball bounced off the boundary line on my side of the court. "Your game's improving, Miss Haskell."

Her game had been improving, but not so well as to catch up with me. I hadn't been playing at my best. I had been taking in her movements as she ran around the court, her breasts jiggling provocatively under her shirt as she returned my serves, wondering how it would feel to cup those perfect buttocks every time she bent over to pick the ball. Not the least reason hampering me was that you don't run around with a boner you're trying to hide between your legs.

"Thank you, Mr. Hinton", she smiled sweetly exposing that beautiful gap tooth. She bent over to pick one of the spare balls. Her grip was becoming firmer. I made a mental note to compliment her on it during one of the tantrums that come after I've pushed her too hard.

"I've told you to call me James," I said to her, as I waited for her to serve.

She stuck out her tongue. "I've told you to call me Helen."

"Okay Helen," I said. "That's not the way to stand -- your weight is not well distributed over your legs. You won't be able to recover easily if I make a well-placed shot to your right."

"Thank you, James," she smiled coquettishly at me.

I've never completely understood Helen Haskell. She's one of those innocent-looking ladies who never use a curse word, whose looks won't melt butter, although a little naughtiness seeps to the surface once in awhile. I wondered how she'd look on her knees sucking me off, impaled on my dick, or spreading her butt cheeks.

"Not another set of rules, James," she pouted. "Why don't we take a break?"

I wiped the sweat off my brow and walked into the house with her, my eyes on the shapely ass swinging from side to side in front of me. My concentration was so great that when she stopped, I didn't notice. I bumped into her and stopped.

The silence was deafening. We stood for almost an eternity, not daring to breath. My erection was poking against her ass. We both knew I was no longer the neighbor-turned-tennis-instructor when I reached around her and sliding my hands up her sides, stopped when her breasts were nestled in my palm.

She breathed again.

"I've been waiting for you to do that for a long time," her voice was perfectly calm, almost conversational as I kneaded her boobs.

"What's 'that'?" I asked, just as calmly.

"Play with my tits," she replied, pushing her ass back into my hard member.

"How long have you been waiting for this, Miss Haskell?" I teased. Her bum was still rubbing against my boner, sending shock waves through my body. I helped her off with her shirt and undid the clasps of her bra. I pulled on her taut nipples and she gasped.

"It's been quite a while. Ever since you moved... AH!" I had slipped my hands without warning into her shorts, and my fingers were playing at the entrance to her core. I slipped my thumbs into her, massaging her clit with my index fingers.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Miss Haskell," I teased into her ear, nibbling on her earlobe.

Her response was a loud moan, and her body began to shake as she shot her liquid all over my fingers. wetting her shorts. The squirts were intense, racking her body and she had to lean even further against me to steady herself.

I withdrew my hands and spun her slowly around. She threw her hands around my neck. With an arm around her waist, and one just below her bottom, I lifted her off the ground and we kissed as I headed for the sofa.

I sat her down and lay her face down on my lap, her ass just below my gaze. I slipped off her white shorts and panties, and took my time admiring her proffered bum. I ran my hands lightly over it, enjoying the feel, caressing it almost with reverence.

I spread her cheeks slowly, but she didn't tense at my examination of this most private region. Nestled in the crack of her buttocks was the pink, wrinkly rosebud. She was breathing slowly and shallowly now.

I blew lightly on the nape of her neck, tracing a line down her spine and stopping at her tailbone. We both waited. I spread her ass even further, watching her asshole open up slightly, then wet my finger in the sweat around her ass crack.

"That tickles," she giggled when I stroked her anus in concentric circles, homing in on the entrance. Slowly, my finger sank in and I pulled most of it out just as slowly. Gradually increasing my pace, I began to finger fuck her ass. She reached behind her and spread them for me, her increasing moans signalling she was on the verge of coming. I stopped suddenly and pulled out, giving her two sharp swats.

"Fuck you, Mr Hinton," she whispered under her breath.

"Not yet," I mocked. "And the name's James."

"Let's take a shower," I announced. She got off my lap and together we eliminated my clothes.

She looked longingly at my cock and stroked it. I could see her mouth watering as she lowered her head and took me into her mouth. There was the slight pain when her teeth touched me accidentally, but she corrected quickly and I leaned back to enjoy the sensations. Unconsciously, I began to thrust into her mouth, grasping her behind her head and choking her on my cock.

"OOOf," she spluttered and I let go of her head, stopping my thrusting at the same time. She looked up at me, her clear brown eyes mesmerizing me as she licked me sensuously.

I stopped her when I was about to come. "Let's take a shower."

We raced to the shower. She was far more lithe on her feet than I was, and when I got in, she had run a bath and was standing under the shower, soaping her neck. I got in and took the soap from her, soaping her breasts and nipples, then turning her around to work on her back.

I had her bend over, then ran the soap in the crack of her ass. She held her buttocks open for me. I rubbed the soap in my hands, then inserted my slippery finger into her ass in one go. She began to rock back and forth, fucking my finger with her ass, getting more of my finger into her with each stroke.

With a shudder, she came and I had to hold her while she squirted all over the floor. She stood erect and I kissed her everywhere -- eyes, the tip of her nose, her tits, the nape of her neck, finally coming back to her lips.

She picked the soap and began to coat my cock with foam. I broke the kiss, watching her as she gave me a slippery handjob, juggling my balls in her other hand.

I shot my come onto her hand, grunting with each eruption of semen. Her hand kept going until I had it all out.

We rinsed the soap suds off ourselves and that was sufficient time for me to get aroused again. I bent her over, her hands gripping the bath and stabbed my cock into her from behind. It was a torrid fuck, wild and uninhibited with a kind of passion I'd never have guessed existed in her.

My grunts and her moans filled the air as we both came, her hips bucking back and forth even after I was done. I waited until she relaxed, then we got into the bath.

After we'd towelled ourselves dry and were dressed once again, I looked her over. She didn't look one bit like she'd just been fucked.

She saw me to the door, my swat on her rump the only reminder of what had transpired that afternoon.

As It Is

The melodious sound of her laughter wafted across the room and Ben stared out of the corner of his eye at the person who'd made her laugh. Not surprisingly, it was a man. She had her hand linked in his and she pressed against him in such a way he had little doubt it had brushed against her pert breast.

Ben readjusted his glasses and swallowed painfully, pretending to study his papers but actually going back to their meeting a few hours before.

He had walked into the auditorium, hoping to use the time before the seminar to practice his speech. Unfortunately, someone had had the idea before him and was prancing about on stage, notes held in front of her, obviously engrossed in mumbling to herself, scanning the invisible audience.

He walked towards the stage and stopped at the bottom to wipe his smudged glasses. When he put them on again, he was staring at a woman. He judged her to be in her mid-twenties with high cheekbones and that just-waking-up-from-sleep set of eyes peculiar to Asians.

He must have been staring too intently, because she stopped and stared back, arms akimbo. He didn't appear to notice.

'Well?' he r voice jerked him back to reality.

'Umm, hi,' he squeaked. 'Benjamin...' what was his surname?

'Kim,' she said, saving him. 'Are you one of the speakers?'

'Yes,' he replied, sweat breaking out on his forehead. He'd just noticed something which required some delicate handling. Her skirt was not indecent, but with the full glare of the lights behind her, he could make out her dark triangle. He gulped.

'Nice to meet you,' she said. 'I was just practicing.'

'Your skirt,' he blurted out before he could stop himself.

'What about it?' she asked.

He couldn't go any further. She looked down, and said,'Oh!' without any embarrassment while he colored, looking away.

'Thank you Mr Benjamin. May I call you Benjamin?' she asked as she gathered up her notes.

'My friends call me Ben,' he said, slightly bolder.

'Mine call me Kim,' she smiled sweetly at him. 'I've got to run.'

She hurried out of the hall and he found a seat, a little too excited to practice after what he had just seen.

'Here he is!' someone cried, jolting him out of his reverie.

He looked up sheepishly as Kim settled in the chair beside him.

'Thanks for the warning Prof,' she said putting an arm around him. She turned to her companion,'Ben saved me a great deal of embarrassment today.'

She introduced hem both, and ordered some wine. They chatted, and he noticed she noticed she touched both of them a lot, Reason told him she loved touching people, but something deep down spoke of a special meaning the times she touched him.

Herbert left and they found themselves alone, talking of all kinds of things. Gradually, her speech became slurred and he realized she was getting tipsy. He offered to take her up to her room.

They went up in the elevator and he had to hold her up to prevent her from collapsing while he searched through her handbag for her keys. Instead, he encountered the usual jungle in ladies' handbags -- makeup, mirrors and various odds and ends. He finally found it but she had almost passed out. He had to carry her the rest of the way.

Once in the room, she straightened up and pushed him with a strength he found surprising. He landed unceremoniously in the sofa and she straddled his chest.

'What the...?' he began.

'Shut up,' she pinched his lips shut, then released them. 'Well?'

'You weren't drunk?' he asked.

'Of course not,' she said, smiling at him when his midsection jerked. Her hand had found its way into his pants and was fondling him through his boxers. His pipe elongated and pushed against his trousers. She unzipped him and freed his cock.

Kim leaned towards Ben and kissed him on the lips. He was not a great kisser so she took charge, her tongue and lips playing games in and out of his mouth as she stroked his hot penis.

She disengaged and got off his chest, as she began to strip. He watched her, following the gentle swell of her small breasts as they came into view, down past her navel and stopping at her mound on which there was a luxuriant growth of black hair. As she took each item off, she folded it in half and placed it carefully on the table -- including her white panties.

She swung a leg across his chest, presenting her ass to him as she took his cock into her mouth. He spread her butt cheeks and buried his tongue inside her. It was an almost comical sight -- the little lady stretched all the way across his seven foot frame, trying to take all of his monster cock into her mouth while his huge Roman nose bored into her sweaty asshole as he tried to get his tongue into her pink slit.

He hadn't shaved for a while, and soon his rough chin and cheek began to take it's toll on her thighs. She got off him and rummaged in her handbag, returning with a condom which she expertly slipped on him. At that moment his cock became flaccid, the latex hanging off it limply. He was deeply mortified.

He sat on the sofa, perfectly ridiculous in his glasses and suit with a limp dick sticking out of his trousers.

'It's okay' she cooed, going into her bedroom to fetch something. It smelt like menthol and looked slightly greasy. He watched her uneasily as she applied it all over his cock. It was hot in a way that wasn't heat.

'What's this stuff?' he asked, alarmed. His cock quickly became blood-engorged. He was so hard it began to ache.

'Chinese balm,' she said, smearing the last of it on his cock. She picked the condom off the carpet and tossed it in the wastebasket, fetching a fresh one from her handbag. She unfurled it over him and sat on his cock.

He grabbed her small ass in his big hands, the urgency of the burning sensation in his member urging him on. He slammed into her all nine inches of him. She loved a rough fucking, moaning her pleasure as the feelings began to climb.

As quickly as he had begun, he held onto her and ejaculated, leaving her behind. She tried to move, but he was already limp.

'Ben,' she whispered. He was fast asleep, snoring like a locomotive.

She sighed with resignation as she headed for the drawer where she kept her vibrator...

Fraulein

Henry refused to admit to anyone, but deep down inside him, he was scared of his boss. Her frosty glare combined with her cold beauty told him she was quite dangerous if one got on the wrong side of her.

When Kim, her pretty Korean secretary came to summon him in person, he was seized by a cold chill. She could have placed a call to him from the office but it appeared she wanted to warn him.

'Hello Kim,' he reached for her bottom. She slapped his hand away, plainly indicating their usual foray wasn't on today.

'The Boss wants you,' she said. 'I think you're in some kind of trouble.'

Henry's fears were confirmed.

'Tell me Kim,' he said. 'Do you have any idea what it is I have done?'

She left without saying a word and Henry was left to deal with his fears alone. He sat at his desk twiddling his thumbs in despair.

His head buzzing with trepidation, he made his way to her office. Kim refused to meet his eye. She just nodded him towards the door. He stepped in and shut the door behind him, waiting for her to acknowledge his presence.

'Mr Henry,' she said without looking up. For some reason, she had a dislike for him, always referring to him as if he was a stranger and he was obliged to do the same.

'At your service Fraulein,' he said. She looked up , a look of surprise on her face. The moment passed and her face was inscrutable once again.

'You speak German?' she asked.

'I'm Swiss,' he said. 'As you well know, I was picked because I spoke French, Italian and German fluently.'

'I see,' she said in such a way as to dispel the familiarity which he had tried to establish. 'From now on, I'm Miss Antje -- don't you ever call me Fraulein again.'

'Yes ma'am,' he said, slightly irked that she had impolitely left him standing but too afraid to ask to sit down.

'Good,' she said. 'It has come to my notice that you've been using the company's resources for non-company work.'

'I don't understand, Miss Antje,' he said.

'I'm not going to play games with you,' she said. 'You have been viewing pornography on the company computer assigned to you.'

He stood open-mouthed, staring down at her, deeply mortified that his secret had been found out.

'And our security cameras have picked you harassing Miss Kyung on several occasions. She has however, decided not to press charges against you.'

Of course Kim would have lied to cover her ass -- she was his girlfriend, but the secret was known to only both of them.

'Even if it was consensual, we maintain a "no sex between employees policy here",' she continued. 'I am highly disappointed in you, Mr Henry. Do you have an explanation?'

He stood like a five-year-old, looking down at his feet, refusing to meet her gaze.

'I'm sorry,' he said in a hoarse voice.

'Being sorry won't repair the damage,' her words sliced into his heart like a blunt, rusty knife. 'You have hundreds of pictures of women's anuses on your computer -- such funny porn to look at.'

'I'm leaving,' he said, anger giving him courage. He unpinned his identity card from his shirt and tossed it onto her desk, then spun on his heel and headed for the door.

'I'm not finished with you Mr Henry!' she called after him.

'I no longer work for you,' he flung back and exited the office.

'Henry!' Kim called after him trying to catch up with him in her high-heeled shoes. With his long strides however, he soon left her behind.

He drove aimlessly around the city for a while, then stopped at the park to take a walk and decide on things. He was however, too disturbed to think about anything and decided to head home.

He pulled up next to a green Audi, too engrossed in his misfortune to realize none of his neighbours drove a green Audi -- his boss did. He took his keys from his pocket, jingling them as he approached the door.

Someone was sitting on the steps, but since he wasn't wearing his glasses, he could not tell who it was. He could however, tell it was a woman and his heart beat loudly as he imagined it was Kim come to demand an explanation.

When he drew near, the woman looked up at him and a shock, like a bolt of electricity shot through him. It was Antje.

'What are you doing here?' he asked coldly. 'You'd better leave before I call the cops.'

'I've come to explain,' her voice was cracked, and he could tell she had been crying when he observed her red eyes.

'By golly, you'd better have a good explanation,' he swore. 'Spit it out and be on your way.'

'Won't you even invite me in?' she asked.

Henry stood for a while, a frown on his lips as he debated within himself if it was worth it. 'Come in.'

She walked into the house and stood, waiting for him to invite her to sit. He felt a certain petty satisfaction as he poured himself a drink and stretched himself out on the sofa, looking up at her.

'Well?' he prompted, sipping his drink with relish.

'I'm sorry,' she said in a little voice. She held her handbag in both hands and stared at her feet, rubbing the toes of her pumps against each other.

'About?' he sat up, curious. 'Weren't you justified?'

'Almost all the men look at porn in the company,' she said, a blush covering her face and extending to her neck as she said. 'I do too.'

'Hmmmm,' he said.

'I've had feelings for you for quite a while,' she blushed even redder, becoming more agitated. 'I was so jealous of you and my secretary so I installed cameras in your office.'

'That explains it,' he said. 'Unfortunately, I don't feel the same way towards you and you have humiliated me enough. I'll have my resignation letter in tomorrow.'

Her lower lip trembled, and he thought she was going to cry again.

'What do you want then?' he asked.

She stood for a while, not answering him. Suddenly, her hands went to her throat and she unbuttoned her suit, revealing a pink lacy bra. She undid the straps , baring her breasts. Henry sat still, refusing to believe his eyes.

She unzipped her skirt , and kicking off her pumps, divested herself of her clothes until she stood completely naked before him. Henry should have called the cops, or stopped her as soon as he saw her undress before him, but he was so fascinated watching her, no doubt controlled by the snaky monster in his trousers that he stared dumbly, waiting impatiently for the next portion of her body to be unveiled.

She stood looking down at her feet, as naked as the day she was born. Long neck, medium breasts, flat tummy, light bush... Henry's eyes travelled down, appraising her features, even as he got harder.

'So what's the meaning of this?' he asked.

'I want you,' she said simply, walking towards him, still too embarrassed to look him in the face. She stopped with her pubes directly in front of him and pulled his head to her.

Henry felt his tongue dart out of his mouth of its own accord and bury itself in her sweet-tasting slit. He licked her hungrily, reaching for her buttocks and pulling her tightly to his face.

She moaned, calling is name,'Henry' with a tenderness he'd never have guessed existed in her, and he increased his attentions. She came again and again, flooding his tongue with her liquid, her legs quaking from the paroxysms that went through her. He held her firmly, as he sensed she was too weak to stand and lifted her onto the sofa.

If her legs were weak, her hands were not. Like a tigress, she unzipped his trousers quickly, tugging them down with along with his boxers, freeing his aching cock which pointed straight up as soon as it left its restraints.

Without much ado, she took him into her mouth and began to suck him with an urgency that had him try to hold her back to go slower so he wouldn't come so soon. He found himself unable to control her bobbing head so he wet his thumb in his mouth and reached between the cheeks of her ass, searching for the crinkly rosebud.

As he found her pucker and began to slip his finger in, she took her head off his cock.

'I had an idea you'd do that soon,' she said.

'Do what?' he pretended not to know, still worming his finger past her sphincter. He wanted to hear her say it.

'Play with my anus,' she blushed. 'You have an anus fetish don't you?'

'Sort of,' he replied, finally getting his finger in and moving it in and out. The tightness began to reduce as he fingered her, and soon he was doing it with ease.

'Do you ever touch Kim's?' she asked, bolder now at discussing this forbidden area.

'She won't let me,' Henry replied, adding a second finger.

'Are you going to have sex with me in the anus?' she asked, a slight look of alarm on her face.

'You mean, am I going to fuck your ass?' he teased, her asshole relaxing to accommodate his two fingers.

'Yes,' she blushed.

'No,' he replied. 'I don't think that's something I'll ever do. Looking at it and playing with it is something I'm quite content with.'

She was no longer blushing. Instead, there was a naughty, impish smile on her face as she stood up, his fingers leaving her ass. She bent over in font of him, spreading her cheeks, revealing her pink wrinkled hole to him.

'This is unbecoming of a lady, Fraulein,' he mocked, returning his finger to her ass, getting it easily in.

She moaned, crying out as she came again, her asshole holding his finger in until she relaxed.

He pulled her down onto his lap, cupping her breasts for the first time, running his hands over her hard nipples. They kissed, her lipstick smearing all over his lips as their tongues tangoed, his hands still fondling her ample tits.

His thighs were wet from her pussy, and her ass on his lap had bent his cock, causing him some pain. He lifted her a little, and entered her with a sharp jab. She gasped, holding him tightly as he began to fuck her.

'Harder,' she whispered in his ear and he began to bang her for all he was worth. The sharp intake of breath told him she was about to come. He was right there with her, flooding the walls of her pussy with his semen.

When the intensity of their lovemaking had passed, she asked quietly,'So are you still leaving?'

'No,' he said.

'Ahh,' she gasped as his finger entered her ass again. 'What's going to happen with Kim?'

He was silent.

'Kim doesn't let you touch her asshole but I do,' her voice was small again and he realized that this lady was despite all appearances, still a child at heart.