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Face Up To It

By: krr1957



This is a femdom story with scenes of reluctant participation. If you think you might find such material offensive please look for another story.

*

Chapter 1

I never wanted to be involved. I had only been with the bank a few months, straight out of university, but I did not want them to think I was a spoilsport.

The office party had been in full swing for a couple of hours and a lot of alcohol had been consumed but I moderated my own intake. Rob, the chief trader on the Far East desk, was being his usual oafish self and several glasses of wine were helping to bring out the worst in him.

He was too attractive for his own good and made no secret of the number of notches on his bedpost. There was, therefore an inevitability that he would eventually try it on with me. His mistake was to make his move in the open for all to hear because my equally public reply was a refusal.

I called him an arrogant prick and if he had had any sense he would have laughed it off. Coarse language was the order of the day on the trading desk, and everyone else was prepared to view the exchange as a joke, but Rob would not let it rest.

He referred to me as a lesbian, just within hearing, but worse still, for a newcomer, he suggested that I was not part of the team. I was sorely tempted to reply in kind but managed to rise above it. 

It was then that he started a game of 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' and he soon had his colleagues baying in approval. At that point I thought about leaving but I was not going to give him the satisfaction. 

A gaggle of girls gathered around me protectively and I was grateful for their show of solidarity. "Someone needs to take that shit down a peg or two." It was Pam who had spoken and I guess it came as no surprise. She was one of the secretarial team; a lovely young woman in every sense but she was constantly bemoaning her losing battle with her weight problem. Rob was forever jibing her about it suggesting that if she were ever to shed a few pounds he might even deign to ask her out.

Some of the other girls were a little the worse for wear and they now started whispering amongst themselves leading to some raucous laughter. When they explained to me what they intended to do I was uneasy but, as they were doing it to even the score on my behalf, it was hard to refuse.

Pam disappeared and returned minutes later with a long glass tube with a funnel opening at one end. It was kept as a permanent trophy on the wall of the coffee room and was something of a badge of honour amongst the traders.

As soon as Rob saw it his natural machismo came to the fore and he immediately volunteered. Normally he would have lain down on the floor but the party was being held in the cavernous reception area and some of his colleagues retrieved one of the large marble topped coffee tables from the edge of the room.

He was helped down onto the table top and then the tube was held over his face. He took the end of it into his mouth and signalled his readiness at which a pint of beer was slowly poured into the funnelled end. 

Tradition had it that he was held in place so that if he stopped swallowing the remainder of the beer would spill over his face. Normally a couple of the others would pin his shoulders but on this occasion, to whoops of appreciation, two of the secretaries volunteered. They both made a big show of it as they hitched up short skirts and straddled his body. Gina, the lighter of the two, sat astride his chest whilst Karen sat across his thighs.

Rob made much of the fact that they were both former conquests, even hinting at a threesome, but they laughed indulgently.

To his credit he managed the whole pint, notwithstanding the burden of Gina on his chest, but as soon as he finished I immediately straddled him taking up station behind her. As everyone laughed he joined in good-naturedly but the strain of my added weight was apparent.

No sooner was I settled than Clare sat across his shins and he realized the true extent of his predicament. He tried to buck us off, playfully at first then a little more forcefully but with two of us pinning his arms to his sides he was helpless.

For a second or two the atmosphere was uneasy but when Pam reached for the zip of his trousers it erupted again. I sensed that one or two of his workmates were thinking about rescuing him but, outside of the trading office, he was not universally popular and Pam was being cheered on by the majority both male and female. 

I could see that his anger was rising, he wanted to swear, but he knew that the only way to save face was to go along with it. He had, after all, been the architect of many similar pranks in the past. 

Pam made a show of being disgusted as she delicately slid her fingers into his trousers and flipped his cock into the open. 

I had heard the rumours, who had not, and I could not resist a look. I have to admit that, even in its flaccid state, he was blessed and I suspect that, secretly, he actually enjoyed being put on display. 

There was a series of clicks as camera phones were produced and some of the girls were egging on Pam to try and add a little more life but even I was not prepared for what happened next.

She moved to the head of the table and, without another word, she sat astride his face. It all happened so quickly. There was a flash of heavy, stockinged, thighs as she flipped up her dress and then she was there, facing us, with a sly smile on her face.

He struggled fiercely, although this was probably not apparent to the others, as his range of movement was severely handicapped by our combined weight. Again, I sensed that one or two people were troubled by the nature of events but most were still laughing. 

In truth, I felt a little guilty and assumed he must have been having trouble breathing. Pam, sitting heavily, with her thick velvet dress hiding him from view, would have been enough but there was the added consideration of Gina constricting his chest. 

Pam moved just a little and, notwithstanding the raucous noise, I am sure I heard him gasp. I thought that that was to be an end to it but she settled once more. She looked directly at me and, as she did so, she gently rocked her hips. 

It was at that moment that I realized that she was enjoying it as more than just a prank. I felt my face redden but, at the same time, I was aware of a tingling in my sex. Without thinking, I shifted a little on his stomach to ease the irritation but in so doing I pressed up against Gina's back. 

She laughed and immediately put her head back against my shoulder. Her thick, dark, hair cascaded over me and I was enveloped in her heavy, musky perfume. 

I had amicably broken up with my long term boyfriend when we went our separate ways after university, and there had been no one since, but now the warmth and proximity of Gina's very desirable body was giving rise to some very strange and inappropriate thoughts.

I tried to ease away from her but, as I did so, there was fresh crescendo of laughter. Awkwardly, I looked back and was amazed to see Karen with her hand round his cock which was now standing splendidly to attention.

If I thought it impressive before it was now even more so. Karen's delicate fingers could barely encircle it and it throbbed under her touch. 

The assumption was, of course, that he must have been enjoying it but I suspected that it was just the autonomic male reaction. I returned my attention to Pam to find that she was making the most of the situation. 

Her movements were a little less controlled, her eyes were unfocused and any last doubts I may have had were dispelled. It must have been stiflingly hot beneath her bulk but, instead of the concern that I should have felt, I found that I was getting hotter myself.

The focus of every ones attention was Karen, and they now set up a rhythmic chant as she pumped her hand ever faster, but I could not take my eyes off of Pam. There was a new urgency about her and her face was determinedly set as she ground her hips until, finally, I saw that she had lifted her feet from the floor altogether.

Her eyes were tightly closed and her body was shaking almost imperceptibly. Gina had not seemed to notice but I felt an acute sense of envy as I realized that she was climaxing on his face.

Pam quickly composed herself as Karen brought the show to a close. To the disappointment of her audience she did not make him come deciding that it would be more fun simply to leave him frustrated. She was the first to get up from him and we quickly followed suit. 

I felt a little embarrassed when I saw that his shirt now bore a stain that had nothing to do with perspiration but no one else seemed to notice. Instead they were checking on him. He appeared a little spaced out, unsure of his surroundings, and for a moment or two he didn't even bother to adjust his trousers.

As he gathered himself I could see the fury in his eyes but a spontaneous round of applause and a reaffirmation of his status as an all round good sport defused the situation; nevertheless, we deemed it prudent to retire to the ladies room.

We laughed uproariously, particularly when Karen made a pantomime of scrubbing her hands clean, but I cornered Pam and smiled as I whispered. "That was outrageous!" She checked to make sure none of the others were looking. "Do you want to know the best of it?"

Before I could respond she lifted the front or her dress and I gasped. Not only was she not wearing panties but she was sporting the thickest growth of hair that I had ever seen on a woman. 

As we rejoined the party I feared another confrontation with Rob but he seemed to be having a good time with the two girls who were on attachment from our Milan office. 

The rest of the evening passed uneventfully and I was starting to think about a taxi home when I was politely tapped on the shoulder. "Do you need a lift?"

It was Simon the head of the Settlements Office. As part of my accelerated graduate training I had spent a few days with Simon and his small team earlier in the year. The office was considered a bit of a backwater but I was required to have a working knowledge of its operations. 

Simon was sweet and I suspected that he had developed a crush on me. At twenty eight he was seven years older but it could almost have been the other way round. He was a bright young man but lacked Rob's natural assertiveness and, for now, his career seemed to have stalled.

The girls called him Clark Kent and it was easy to see why. He was tall and well built with boyish good looks and even wore similar, unfashionable, glasses. I had no qualms about accepting a lift from him but I did not want him to read too much into it. 

He made small talk as we drove out of the city but I listened distractedly. My mind was still buzzing with the events earlier in the evening and the prospect of a warm bed and my trusty vibrator was growing ever more appealing. 

When we arrived outside my building there were a number of youths congregated around the entrance. I told him that they were harmless but he insisted on seeing me to my door. 

I got out my keys and turned to say goodbye but he looked so forlorn that I found myself offering coffee whilst at the same time desperately hoping that he would be gallant enough to refuse.

Unfortunately, his face lit up and he followed me into my flat which was a complete tip. I am normally tidy by nature but I had been away at the weekend and out every night since. 

I cleared the armchair so that he could sit down and, having made coffee, I took the sofa. Whilst I was in the kitchen he had taken off his glasses, the first time I had seen him without them, and it did wonders for him. He was so much more attractive without them, and I thought about telling him so, but he read my mind.

"I don't want them calling you 'Lois Lane'." "I'm sorry?" "You let 'Clark Kent' take you home" I must have let my discomfort show but he smiled disarmingly. "I know what they call me; besides, you'd be more at home with Spiderman."I was too bemused to answer and he started to laugh. "I think you're beautiful; you remind me of Kirsten Dunst" 

I guess that there is a passing resemblance, albeit I am a natural blonde, but I was more concerned about the familiarity of the remark. I was beginning to think that he was besotted.

I steered the conversation back to less personal topics but I was amused to see that he kept taking surreptitious glances at my legs. I do not know what possessed me but I started to tease him. 

To begin with I kicked off my shoes and rubbed my foot against my calf. It was a simple, innocent, movement but he made a point of looking away and he lost the thread what he was saying. 

Caught up with the spirit of devilment I stretched languorously and then tucked my legs up underneath me. My party dress had a very short skirt and my change of position caused it to ride up. 

I was now turned slightly away from him but his reward was an expanse of thigh and I wondered how long he could resist. He took an unnatural interest in the Yves Tanguy reproductions on the wall but he was fighting a losing battle. 

He gave a first, furtive glance, only to wrench his eyes away but then he made much of sitting up straighter so that he could take a longer look. I asked him about the party, whether there was anyone who had caught his eye, and, as I did so, I idly picked at a non-existent thread on my skirt making a point of lifting it a little towards the light.

He was totally perplexed. My suggestion that he was on the look out for some one and my steadfast refusal to acknowledge, in any way, that it might be me had him confused. He was too much of a gentleman to come straight out with it but his body told its own story. He was now having to sit with his hands in his lap to cover an all too obvious erection. 

My heart was beating a little faster and I was no longer feeling tired. My thoughts went back to Rob and the frustration he must have felt when Karen teased him to the edge and now I had Simon in a similar position.

I like to think of myself as a nice person but, at that moment, some darker spirit was at work within me. "You don't have to hide it..."

It took him a second or two to realize what I was talking about but when he did so he blushed furiously.

"Let me see it..." He looked at me aghast as if I had asked him to reveal himself in the middle of a shopping precinct rather than in the privacy of my flat. I thought, for a moment, that he was going to get up and leave but the possibility that his ultimate fantasy might be about to be fulfilled held him in check.

I could see the turmoil in his eyes. He wanted it to be romantic, a gentle beckoning towards the bedroom, not this hideous blatancy. "Don't be coy..."

He wanted to say something but could not find the words. On the one hand his goddess had fallen from her pedestal but he was the victim of his own baser instincts. He could not hold my eye as he slowly and awkwardly worked down the zip of his trousers. 

His erection needed little encouragement to spring free and he certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. He was not quite in Rob's league but was longer and thicker than the average. 

He instinctively took hold of himself, more to cover his embarrassment than to brag, but the livid head betrayed his excitement. "Stroke it for me...do it slowly."

He looked as if he had been caught in the act by his mother, and it confirmed my suspicion that, despite his age and obvious good looks, his experience with women was limited. He remained frozen in indecision and I decided to help things along. 

"Do you like my legs?" I lifted my skirt a little higher giving him a glimpse of tanned flesh above my stay up stockings and he whispered under his breath. "Oh God..."

His hand began to move but with a delicacy that confirmed that he was afraid of coming too soon. To add to his torment I slowly uncurled my legs and stretched them out in front of me with my toes pointed before relaxing with my thighs slightly parted.

He could have looked between my legs but his innate sense of probity would not allow him and I was amused to see that the strain was causing him to perspire. "Come over here..."

It was hard to keep my laughter in check as he waddled awkwardly, still holding himself. Any other man would have presented his erection to my mouth but, from the look on his face, I could see that he just wanted to kiss me. As he leaned over me I put my finger to his lips. "Just kneel here..."

He went to his knees, grateful that he was a little less obviously on display, but he was still unsure of me. I made him wait for a few seconds and then I opened my legs a little wider presenting the inside of my knee. "Kiss it for me..."

He bent stiffly and pecked a single kiss but he could no longer resist a glance between my legs. For an instant some vestige of my old self almost made me close them but the thrill of what I was doing won out.

I allowed my legs to fall wider apart. "A little higher..." He hesitated but then kissed further up my inner thigh and I saw his nostrils flare momentarily. Only then did it occur to me that I must have smelled a little ripe. I had had no opportunity to clean up properly since the party and my panties were now wet through for a second time. 

"Don't stop..." He looked uncertain. I guess that this was not how he had envisaged the evening panning out and it was probably all a little too close to nature when compared to his fantasy.

He reached the dark band at the top of my stocking and it seemed to act as a psychological barrier for him. He kissed repeatedly on the same spot and was loathe to venture further onto bare flesh. 

I felt an irrational annoyance but, in truth, it must have seemed an unedifying prospect. I could, by now, smell my own arousal and for reasons I could not explain I had not been so turned on for a long time. "Don't disappoint me..."

He crossed the border but his kisses were unsure, a mere brushing of the lips, and I wanted no room for doubt; I opened my legs altogether to let him know exactly what was wanted of him. 

He looked up imploringly, his eyes begging me to relent, but the very fact that I could make him do it was stoking the fire. He moved ever inward and then paused uncertainly at the very edge of my panties. "Kiss me..."

I used the words that he wanted to hear but not in the context that he wanted to hear them. He pulled back just a little and I could see the conflict rage within him. He wanted me so badly but I was making him pay a high price. 

His neck stiffened as he pursed his lips and leant forward to place a kiss on my panties at the centre of my sex. Incredibly, that one touch, with its suggestion of reverence, was enough to take me over the edge.

The tension I felt, as I waited to see if he would go through with it, was suddenly dissipated as a shock wave of pleasure rolled outwards from my sex to tingle my whole body. 

Without thought I put my hand to the back of his head and held him close as I came to terms with the surprise. I was left limp by the intensity of it and suddenly felt a desperate need to use the bathroom.

I excused myself unceremoniously and left him waiting as I gave myself time to clean up and recover.

When I came back he was sitting on the sofa with his clothing adjusted, trying to look casual, but my reappearance clearly excited him.

"Simon. Look, I'm sorry, but I'm not feeling too great. Would you be okay if we called it a night?" 

He looked totally crestfallen and I thought he was about to try and talk me round but his good manners held sway and he got to his feet. "Another time perhaps; I could take you to dinner..." I smiled kindly. "That would be nice. Let's talk about it next week."


Face Up To It



His erection led the way as I ushered him out of the door.

Chapter 2 By the time I returned to work on Monday morning I was no less confused. The way I had treated Simon was unforgivable but every time I thought about it I felt a new sexual charge. This was only made worse, or better, depending on your point of view, as I avoided his calls for the next couple of days.

A number of people were aware that we had left the party together, and there was some light hearted gossip, but it took second place to the big talking point of the night which was the treatment meted out to Rob.

There was even some suggestion that things had gone too far and that there would be some disciplinary action but I suspected not. Rob was hardly going to lodge a formal complaint and most of the middle managers had been there laughing along with the rest of us. 

It was on the Wednesday that Simon finally caught up with me. I was standing at the coffee machine when he came up behind me and spoke close to my ear. "Good morning."

I almost spilt my coffee and was further taken by surprise when I saw his appearance. He had had his hair cut shorter and restyled and he was not wearing glasses. "Contacts?" "Yes, I thought I'd give them another try. I normally only wear them for sport." "It's a nice look. It suits you."

He looked a little coy. "That's kind...look...I was hoping...are you free this evening?" I was tempted to say no but he was so earnest that I did not have the heart. "Nothing I can't get out of." "Great! Will you let me take you to dinner? I'll book a table...say eight o'clock?" "I'll look forward to it."

I was surprised to find that I meant it. I certainly did not want to get involved in any sort of relationship but I thought that I could help to bring him out of himself and to give him more confidence. Judging by the new look I was already having an effect.

We both worked late and, not wishing to add fuel to the fire, we left separately to meet up at the restaurant. It was a lively Italian in the centre of town and I was pleased to see that he had not chosen somewhere ostentatious. 

He was easy company and had a wide range of interests outside of work. After a nice meal and a couple of glasses of wine I had pretty much decided that I would take mercy on him and let him take me to bed. 

I insisted on splitting the bill and then we took a taxi back to my flat. He looked like the cat that got the cream until I told him that he could not stay the night. I did not want him living some romantic idyll; for me it was just the fun of a little down and dirty sex. 

In the taxi he tried to kiss me but I forestalled him. Instead, I rubbed him through his trousers and then laughed as he tried to hide his condition whilst paying the fare,

Once inside he surprised me by offering to make coffee. I felt sure that he would want to go straight to the bedroom, and I was more than ready, but I decided to let him set the pace. I told him where to find everything and then slouched on the sofa to wait. 

He came back into the room with two steaming mugs and set them on the coffee table. I expected him to sit down next to me but, instead, he sat on the floor with his back propped by the sofa. 

I was a little disconcerted by his behaviour, and also a little frustrated, but he sat for a moment or two idly sipping his coffee. I began to wonder if, in having told him he could not stay, he had construed this as meaning that sex was off the agenda altogether. 

I was definitely in need, and I was about to give him some encouragement, when he turned around. He acted so quickly that he took me unawares and, in retrospect I guess he had found it to hard to summon up the courage. 

In a single movement he lifted my skirt and began to kiss my inner thigh. There was no subtlety just a frenzied urgency. He kissed quickly and repeatedly and then, like a man possessed, he buried his face in my sex. 

He gave a loud groan before licking at me roughly through my panties. Of itself, his crude technique did nothing for me but his apparent hunger was arousing beyond measure.

He sucked loudly as if he had stumbled upon an oasis and forced my legs wider to gain greater access. I was startled by the transformation. Whereas before he had seemed reluctant, perhaps even squeamish, he now showed an astonishing willingness. 

I felt myself oozing but he strained every drop through the fine satin mesh. This continued for a few moments and, whilst he may have been blissfully absorbed, I needed something more. 

I do not know how or why the idea came to me but it somehow seemed in keeping. I took hold of his head and with not a little difficulty I eased him away from me. "Lie down."

He looked unsure but he finally lay down with his posture suggesting that he expected me to join him. He was, therefore, a little bemused when I rose from the sofa and stood up over him. 

I stepped forward so that my feet were either side of my head and then looked down at him. With studied deliberation I unfastened my skirt and let it fall to cover his face. His ragged breathing caused it to billow slightly until I finally kicked it to one side. 

He was transfixed, staring at my panties made sodden by his attentions. I allowed him to look for a few seconds and then I slipped my hands inside the waistband. 

Flexing my fingers I drew the sheer material tight against my sex which was clearly delineated. As a young girl I was worried about my pudenda. It seemed to me overly prominent, so much so that I feared that it would be obvious through my clothing, but as years past, and I became more and more familiar with myself, I came to see it as beautiful. I retain a light growth of blonde curls and I love to graze them with my fingernails as a prelude to bring myself to orgasm. 

Now, I slowly slid my panties down my legs. For a second or two I held them taut between my ankles, stretching them across his face, and he began to breathe deeply. I indulged him for a moment before I stepped out of them and I was pleased to hear him groan quietly as my sex was finally revealed.

With a hint of theatricality I bent my knees and lowered myself to straddle his head. The temptation to seal him in and to let him use his tongue was almost overwhelming but, guided by some hitherto unrecognized instinct, I held myself just a few inches above him. 

"Do you like it?" I ran a single finger along the fringes of my inner lips and could not suppress a shiver of pleasure. It felt as if we had both been brought to this moment, as though to fulfil some mutual destiny. 

I pressed gently and his eyes widened as the folds of my labia flowed around my finger in a familiar embrace. I have always loved to pleasure myself, I have almost made it an art form, and to have him as a captive spectator, watching me perform, acted like a drug.

In the quiet of the room my finger made a soft sucking sound as I made myself wetter and it took all of my self discipline to stop myself from going too quickly. 

His face was a little redder now and he was no longer breathing through his nose but that was no surprise. I could smell the richness of my own scent which seemed unaccustomedly thick in the air. I suddenly felt an irrational sense of resentment and I looked at him with a glint of anger. "Close your mouth." He did as I asked but I could see that he was trying to keep his breathing as shallow as possible. I responded by relaxing my legs and letting my weight bear down on his sternum.

He now had to work had to breathe and he drew air noisily through his nostrils but I had not finished with him yet. I reached for my discarded skirt and then draped the heavy material over my lap plunging him into darkness. For the next few minutes I lazily fingered my sex and smiled as I imagined his discomfort. I would never have considered myself in any way sadistic but knowing that he was getting hotter by the minute, and that the only air that he could breathe was moistly impregnated with my essence, took me to new heights of arousal. 

He reached a point where he had no choice but to defy me and to start breathing through his mouth again but as he did so I rose up over his face once more. I now used two fingers on my sex until I was literally dripping. I wanted to make sure that he enjoyed the benefit but the way that he squirmed suggested that it was not altogether to his liking. 

The skirt slid off of my lap to reveal his resentful expression but I was insensitive to his feelings. I centred my livid sex over his mouth. "Lick me."

I thought, for a fleeting moment, that he was not going to cooperate but then I felt the shy touch of his tongue. It probed hesitantly at the mess of sodden curls until he found a way through and then he began a tentative exploration. 

His technique displayed a curious naivety and then I realized. "Have you ever done this before?"

Between my legs he looked startled and there was no need for an answer. It seemed incredible that he had come so far in life without ever having the pleasure of going down on a woman, and I almost felt guilty that I had introduced him to it in this manner, but this new turn of events only gave an added frisson.

I lifted fractionally and started to coach him. "Lick my lips, nice long strokes..." He obeyed quickly. Now that his secret was out he seemed eager to please. He ran his tongue along the fringes of my prominent labia with a touching delicacy and I let him continue for some minutes before I issued my next instruction.

"Carry on, a little harder." I gave a little shiver as he did as I asked and I felt my labia clinging wetly to his tongue. He now had to use more effort but his reward was the stronger taste to be found within and it was curious to see his reaction. His eyes suggested that, at first, he found it a little tart, but, as he found his rhythm once more he began to swallow willingly.

I closed my thighs a little more tightly to his head to signal my pleasure but I needed more. "A little higher...find my clitoris." In fairness to him he did reasonably well. He used the tip of his tongue to seek out the firm bud but was unsure when he encountered the fleshy collar. I could have made it easier for him, it would have only taken a tiny pressure from my fingers to free it altogether, but I knew, with certainty, that there would be further lessons.

He looked a little petulant when I told him to close his mouth once more but seeing his face, sheened with a mixture of my juices and his own perspiration, had given me an idea.

I shifted forward and rested a little more heavily on his face then, when I was ready, I put my hands flat on the floor in front of me to take some of my weight. I started with gentle movements, little more than a rocking motion, but then I tensed my well toned thighs and began to push with my hips. 

To begin with he felt little discomfort, it seemed to him that I was teasing his mouth, but, as I gained momentum, I started to ride up over the whole of his face. The slippery contours made for an uneven pressure but, once again, it was more the thought of what I was doing than the thing itself.

I slowly gained speed and I could feel beads of perspiration prickling my brow. I kept my arms still and thrust with my pelvis. My climax seemed tantalizingly out of reach and I had to move ever faster. I swore under my breath with the effort and, at the finish, I was pounding myself down on his face but then, with one final gasping effort, I found release and I slumped my whole weight on him as the flood gates opened.

It took me some minutes to recover myself and even then it took an effort to get back to my feet. As I did so he began to gasp for breath like a drowning man breaking the surface and his face had an unnatural colour but I noticed that his trousers were tented by a powerful erection.

I thanked him and he looked almost childishly pleased but less so when, yet again, I pleaded exhaustion and asked him if he would mind if we called it a day. Yes, it was a cruel thing to do but I knew now that he was mine to mould and I sensed that it was it was important to assert my authority. 

Chapter 3 

I have always been ambitious and a little self centred but this had never, until now, manifested itself in the sexual arena. Simon was a nice guy and I was abusing him but the orgasms I had experienced were simply incredible. 

By the next morning I had pretty much decided that I would not go out with him again but I received a phone call asking me to drop by his office and I could hardly refuse. When all was said and done he was still a manger.

When I knocked at his door he acted the consummate professional and there was nothing in his demeanour to suggest that we were anything other than colleagues.

"Close the door." I did as he asked and he paused for a second before speaking again. "I shouldn't really tell you this but you'll find out officially this afternoon anyway. I've been asked to sit on your mentor panel." I felt my heart beat a little more quickly as I tried to decide if this was a good or a bad development. The mentor panel was a bit of a misnomer. Two managers are appointed to help with the next stage of graduate training which involved the production of a thesis. Ostensibly, they were there to give guidance but it was recognized that their personal appraisal went a long way to ensuring a candidates ultimate success or otherwise. I was still trying to get to grips with it when he broke the rest of the news. "Given the developments over the past few days I felt duty bound to refuse the appointment. I will be sitting on Ian's panel."

I was more confused than ever. Had he refused just to get back at me? He was, after all, in a position to do me a big favour. On balance I suspected that he was simply doing the honourable thing. "So can you tell me who I've got?"

He appeared a little awkward and looked towards the closed door before replying. "It will be Robert and Rachel".

"Shit". The expletive was out of my mouth before I could prevent it. Rob was not one to forgive and forget and Rachel and I had grated against one another from day one. I was on the verge of asking him to reconsider when he spoke once more.

"Look, it will be okay. Your ability is undoubted and they will give you a fair shake. If there is any dispute you can always ask for arbitration. "

His problem was that he always saw the best in people and, in spite of everything, that included me. "I'm sorry, but my reasons are a little selfish. I'd like to see you again."

I have to admit that I was taken aback given all that I had put him through. I was momentarily lost for words but then I gathered myself. "Thank you for letting me know about the panel. That was kind of you, but I'm not sure that we're...compatible."

He looked a little deflated and it seemed to take an effort for him to formulate a reply. "I think you're wrong. I think that we have a lot in common and, as to the physical side of our relationship,....I'd like to explore that with you."

I could not be sure whether or not he was suggesting that he had, in some way, enjoyed it and it was now my turn to be confused. "Simon, I like you, I really do, but let's give it a few days and then see if we still feel the same way."

His face fell but he smiled bravely. "I understand, I'll wait for you to call."

Rachel broke the news to me that same afternoon and, in fairness, she was very constructive and asked for a draft outline of my thesis within seven days. This was no problem as I had already prepared but the prospect of having to present in front of Rob was galling.

Pam, who had been more than normally cheery in the past few days, tuned into my sombre mood and insisted on going out for a drink after work. On the face of it we were unalike. I guess that she was at least ten years older than me and I could not understand why someone so obviously intelligent would be content to be a p.a. but we had somehow formed a bond. 

Over a bottle of wine I outlined my woes and she laughed them off. She tried to convince me that my innate abilities would shine through but I had had experience of inflated male egos in the past and by the end of the evening my spirits had only been marginally lifted. 

As we parted to go our separate ways she smiled enigmatically and asked me to keep Saturday evening free. I had visions of her dragging me out to a club with her secretarial friends and I tried to put her off but she was having none of it.

I hoped that she would forget but on Friday afternoon she sent me an e-mail which gave her address and told me not to eat before I arrived. This was a little more intimate than I was comfortable with, and I almost refused, but I reasoned that she may have already have shopped for food. 

Her flat was a small, one bedroomed, affair but she had decorated it with bright pastels and had not made the mistake of trying to cram in too much furniture. She had prepared a wonderful lamb stifado with a Greek salad which we ate in the neat kitchen dining room and, over a bottle of wine, she outlined her philosophy of the inferiority of the male of the species and how easy they are to manipulate.

It was hard to take her seriously and I laughed indulgently but I had the impression that she was trying to impart a serious message. After over doing it on a home made crème brulee I helped with the dishes and I realised that it was the first time I had seen her in jeans. 

In an earlier decade she would have been considered to have the perfect figure and now that I thought about it there was something of the faux brassiness of Jayne Mansfield about her. She was delightfully curvy, although not as blessed in the chest department, with blonde hair that could have done with being toned down a shade. Set against this, she always had her make-up impeccably applied and the other girls would often ask her for tips.

With the dishes put away I considered taking my leave but she insisted on opening the wine I had brought with me and it seemed churlish to refuse. As she poured she spoke conspiratorially 

"Look, I know you're a little younger than me but I get the impression that you're fairly broad minded. I'd like to show you something. If you're uncomfortable with it we'll call it a night but, whatever your feelings, I want us to stay friends."

My immediate, panicked, conclusion was that she was making a move on me. It had never occurred to me that she might be that way inclined and it was a total surprise. In a manner of speaking it was very flattering but whilst I was curious, as no doubt everyone is from time to time, I had no desire to explore that particular avenue. 

"Come and take a look at this." She took my hand and led me towards the bedroom as I desperately sought for words with which to let her down gently. I slipped my fingers from hers just as she opened the door and then I stood there on the threshold open mouthed. 

The subdued lighting came from a pair of lamps set on either side of a double bed which took up the greater part of the room. It was a heavy, pine framed affair, and lying upon it, limbs stretched to the four corner posts, was a naked man.

The upper part of his face was covered by a blindfold and as Pam ushered me into the room he cast his eyes unseeingly in our direction. My mind was racing but I had trouble bringing my thoughts into focus. I found it hard to believe that, throughout the meal, Pam had been calmness personified whilst, all the time, she had had this man held captive. 

I could only assume that he had acquiesced but, having done so, he had been left with no choice. His wrists and ankles were bound to the corner posts with professional looking restraints which were clearly not novelty store items.

I was too shocked to speak but Pam put a finger to her lips to admonish me to silence anyway. She moved a little to one side and I could now take in his honed body, with just a hint of thickening at the waist, but this was done in an instant before my eyes settled on an erection that looked painfully aroused.




Face Up To It



He was remarkably well endowed and I felt my breath catch as realization hit me like a cosh. My eyes flitted to his face and, whilst his features were disguised, I could now paint a mental picture.

Pam tried not to laugh at my astonishment and once again gestured for me not to say anything. As I watched she joined him on the bed and then with a grace that her size belied, she knelt astride his head facing down his body. 

I expected him to protest, perhaps even to try and fight her off, but he remained silent as, inch but inch, she lowered herself and closed her legs together to seal him in a denim clad cave of darkness.

Once she was settled, with his head pressed deeply into the bed, she spoke sotto voce. "Okay, he can't hear us now."

I had so many questions that I did not know where to start. Eventually I asked the obvious one. "What the hell do you have over him?"

She smiled almost condescendingly. "Absolutely nothing. He is here entirely of his own free will." I stared at her incredulously. "It's perfectly true. He phoned me a couple of days after the party to ask me out, but then I knew he would." "How could you know?" "They're all the same. Once you've had them under you they always want more and the more arrogant they are to start with the more susceptible they are."

Under any other circumstances I would have accused her of talking bullshit but the proof was there to see. He must have been in a living hell trapped beneath her but his erection remained undiminished.

"If you want to you'll find some condoms in the drawer." Her presumptuousness was as stunning as it was audacious, she must have known that I would refuse point blank, but my hand seemed to be reaching towards the drawer of its own volition.

It was as if I was looking down at myself as I used my fingernails to break the foil and then I savoured the heat and firmness of him as I slowly slid it on. 

His reaction as I did so was unexpected. He began to struggle against his restraints but to little effect. "Poor dear. He's been looking forward to this all evening. I just didn't let on that there would be two of us." She wriggled just a little but it did nothing to calm him. "I would add another couple if I were you. He does tend to get overexcited." I smiled as I broke two more pouches and slipped them on to him imagining just how frustrating it must have been to be so desensitized.

The whole situation was surreal but I had moved from arid nervousness to moist expectation in an obscenely short time. I was still not quite comfortable enough to undress in front of Pam but I was more than ready to take up her offer. I slipped my panties down from beneath my skirt and kicked them to one side.

I got onto the bed to kneel across him and then, curtained by my skirt, I reached from his erection. 

He struggled as I pulled it towards me, against its natural inclination, but Pam squirmed on his face to quieten him. I eased over him, teasing myself for a moment or two with the latex covered head, and then I relaxed and allowed gravity to take charge. 

It was a long descent but the feeling as I came to rest on his pubic bone was delicious. I had never felt quite so "filled" and the tightness meant that I could feel his anxious pulse. 

Pam smiled when she saw my look of contentment. "He'll be ready in just a moment." I was not sure what she meant but she was prepared to illuminate me. "His breath is making things pretty damp and that includes me. Listen."

At first I was not sure what I was listening for but then I heard it, the distinct sound of sucking. Pam opened her legs a little stretching the moisture darkened denim more tightly over his face and, as she did so, I felt him buck slightly. 

She began to rotate her hips in a tight circle and I could only imagine the abrasive effect but his excitement was obvious as his body began to jerk. I was taken by surprise but as Pam continued to grind him down I began to ride the waves. 

A vibrator can be good but it cannot beat the pliant warmth of the real thing and over the next few minutes I rose and fell building up an unstoppable excitement. As I started to come I was dimly aware of Pam taking hold of my hands. She squeezed gently signalling that she too had reached a climax albeit more controlled.

I fought my breathing back to normal but, despite the violence of it all, he was still as rigid as ever. "Was it good?"

I could hardly speak and answered with a grateful smile. Pam, for her part, lifted herself from his face and stood by the side of the bed. He began to gasp for air and his face was a fiery red with all the signs that it would still be sore come the morning. 

Pam stroked his cheek gently and then, to my surprise, she slipped off her tee shirt. In spite of all that had transpired I felt a little ill at ease but she had no such misgivings. She quickly removed her bra and cast it aside to reveal an enviable pair of breasts. 

They were heavy but nicely shaped with fetching pink oval nipples which now began to betray their excitement. 

Her jeans followed and I could not help but notice how wet they were. She was not wearing panties and she had to peel them away from her crotch before stepping out of them. 

She stood majestically naked, completely unabashed, looking for all the world like some sort of warrior princess. She casually raked her fingers through the damp thicket that adorned her sex releasing an invisible cloud of musky scent and I found myself breathing a little more deeply but I was not only one affected. I watched as his nostrils twitched and then I felt him throb inside me.

It seemed barely credible that he would be prepared to surrender himself to this. He was a man who liked to be measured by his machismo, which bordered on the misogynistic, but here was the living proof. The urge to rip off his blindfold and let him actually know who it was that was witnessing his degradation was strong but I managed to resist, at least for the moment. 

Pam insouciantly approached the bed. "Get your tongue ready lover." She flowed over him until she had again mounted his face but this time she had her back to me. 

Her skin was flawless and I could now take in the full beauty of her curves at my leisure. She had a long torso which tapered nicely at the waist to emphasis the fullness of her hips. My eyes followed her natural lines as if she was a beautiful piece of sculpture and they were drawn inevitably towards the magnificence of her seat.

The twin globes had a rounded softness but I was fully aware of their weight and, at that moment, they must have seemed to him to have the mass of marble. She remained very still and it seemed certain that he would suffocate. She was melded so closely to his face that it was lost to sight in a darkness that must surely have been devoid of air.

I awaited his anguished struggles, wondering what I would do, but then I felt his erection jerk inside me with renewed vigour. I was aware of the supposed connection between asphyxiation and sexual intensity but it was hard to tell if the bucking of his body was driven by pain or pleasure. 

Whichever it was I began to ride with it but whilst I was exerting myself Pam remained almost immobile. "Deeper...I want to feel it right inside."

I had no idea if he could hear her, buried deep in his prison of flesh, but a slight shivering of Pam's body announced that her message had somehow been received. 

His hips jerked with an almost regular rhythm suggesting that he wanted to come but the layered contraceptives put paid to that. I rose and fell with him and his frustration only added to my arousal. He must have been painfully stiff but I did not care as I worked myself against him unheedingly.

"Lick me..." Pam eased up a little and there was an audible, agonized, gasp before she settled once more. This time she leant forward to take some of her weight on her arms but only to fill his mouth with her sex and to present her clitoris for the attention she demanded.

Somehow, he must have managed to comply as she began to gently jiggle herself onto his face. The resultant rippling movement was almost hypnotic but I had my own needs to feed. 

His movements were now a little less controlled, almost violent, as he sought release but I used my weight to press him down and made the most of his discomfort. 

I do not know who started to come first. My orgasm was strong and prolonged reaching down into the very depths of me but, at the same time, Pam closed her legs and gave a low growl which grew in intensity as she began to melt. 

We both remained in place as we tried to catch our breath but even in the throes of the pleasant aftershocks I was still aware of his as yet unrelieved erection.

The temptation to try for a third time was strong but I now had genuine fears for his wellbeing. I reluctantly eased myself off of him but it was another minute or two before Pam lazily got back to her feet.

He was rasping for air but he managed to form a few words. "You bitch! That was too much." His red face was so wet it looked as if he had been dowsed with water but one or two stray curly hairs stuck to his skin told their own story. 

Pam looked completely unfazed by his outburst and simply smiled as she stooped to pick up my discarded panties. Using the simple expedient of pinching his nose she forced him to open his mouth and, before he was even aware of what was going on, she stuffed them into his mouth.

I know that I should have been appalled but the thought that, for the next few minutes, he would be tasting nothing but me sent a new jolt through my sex and Pam was fully attuned. Let's have another glass of wine and then he can try a taste of the real thing..."

Chapter 4

It had been an evening never to be forgotten and the beauty of it was that he had no idea it was me. Pam teasingly decided to leave him blindfolded throughout but, at the same time, she hinted sufficiently that it had been someone else from the office.

I could only imagine his unease as he walked into the office on the following Monday wondering which one of his many female colleagues had borne witness to his submission.

What I did not take into account was the backlash of his anger. I worked hard to polish the draft of my thesis and sent it to both him and Rachel for consideration. I thought it was a good piece of work but at our meeting on the following morning both he and Rachel verbally tore it to shreds. 

I could understand Rob's attitude given our recent history but, in light of her earlier encouragement, I was expecting some support from Rachel. I walked out of the room unsure what to think. My immediate reaction was to tender my resignation. If my future prospects in the bank were to be determined by personal rather than professional considerations then I wanted no part of it.

Pam came and found me fuming in the canteen and, yet again, I found myself pouring out my heart to her. She listened quietly and then took my hand. "You have to play them at their own game but you should be prepared to offer a sacrifice." "I don't understand."

She offered a conspiratorial smile. "Don't take this the wrong way. You're a young woman and right now your career should be the most important thing to you. There will be plenty of time to contemplate settling down later on. Let's face it, you are not going to want for male attention. You will be able to take your pick and I am sure that you will make the right choice."

"You're starting to sound like my mother." "Okay, let me be more blunt. I can arrange for Rob to put in a good report."

I thought about this for a moment before framing my question. "Are you suggesting he will do what you say?" "You've seen him. You've seen what he secretly craves." "But he was so angry. I worried about leaving you alone with him afterwards." "Oh he left in high dudgeon but he came back on Sunday to apologize. I won't tell you how many orgasms I made him lick me to while I read the papers"

Even now, after all that had I had through, I found her openness quite shocking. "Okay, lets say that you can bring him onside. What about Rachel?" "You're serious? You don't know why she's pissed off?" "I haven't a clue." "She's had the hots for Simon and now you've trodden on her toes." "You're joking! She must be ten years older." I was being a little unfair. I knew, from things that she said, that she was in her thirties but she looked a lot younger and she had no trouble attracting men. I asked my next question without thinking. "What does she see in him?" "Perhaps the same things you did. He scrubs up nicely and he is actually quite an interesting guy."

As she said this there was the faintest hint of amusement about her eyes and I wondered if she knew more than she was letting on. I was still conjecturing this when it occurred to me just what she was suggesting. "You're saying that I should move over and let her have Simon?"

I was suddenly overcome by a strange sense of possessiveness. Simon was attractive and genuinely likable but, looking back, I think my jealously had more to do with the strange netherworld that he and I had begun to explore together. "So what do I do? Dump him and send her an e-mail?"

"It's not that simple. Even before you arrived on the scene he wasn't showing a lot of interest in her. If you're going to get into her good books you're going to have to help things along." Those words echoed in my head for the next two days. Whilst it went against my better nature Pam was right; I had to stand up for myself or I would forever regret it.

Having made the decision the difficulty came in trying to engineer the situation to my advantage but fate took a hand. We were coming to the end of the day when we were told that the systems in New York had crashed. The emergency response plan called for our office to act as a proxy site with the result that a number of us worked well into the night until New York was back on its feet.

We sat and ate take-out pizzas at our desks and then taxis were organized to get us home. We each gave our destination and then, where possible, cabs were shared. I was put together with Tom and Rachel as we all lived fairly close to one another south of the river and I wasted no time in phoning through to Simon to see if he wanted to join us. 

Geographically, it made no sense but Simon read it as an invitation and jumped at it. Tom was blissfully unaware but Rachel knew that we were a long way out of Simon's way. She looked annoyed but made no comment. 

I insisted that we drop Tom off first, which was not entirely logical, but he did not protest overmuch. My flat was next and then it was hard to say which of the two of them was more shocked when I asked them both in for coffee.

Rachel refused at first, probably seeing it as conduct unbecoming, but when I suggested that she could share a cab with Simon afterwards her face brightened almost as quickly as his dropped.

Once inside the situation was awkward to say the least. Simon sat beside Rachel on the sofa whilst I took the armchair and, as we sipped coffee and discussed the evening's events, I began to tease him. 

My skirt had already ridden up a little and I did not bother to adjust it. By the time I had reached for my coffee a couple of times the hem was somewhere up around mid thigh and I was amused to see him run a finger around the inside of his shirt collar.

This was not lost on Rachel who proved shrewder than I would have imagined. "Look, I have to be going. I'll take a cab and Simon can stay and finish his coffee." "No, don't rush away. It's my fault; I forget how easily Simon gets excited." As I said this I looked down at his lap and Rachel, who had got to her feet, followed my gaze. He was doing his best to disguise his erection by covering it with his mug of coffee but he was failing dismally. 

I was pleased to see the look of wry amusement on Rachel's face but Simon was blushing to the ears. "He's a bit of a 'leg man' aren't you Simon? Don't you think that Rachel has nice legs?"

I could see that Rachel was trying to fathom out what the dynamic was but she unconsciously shifted her feet. The tiny movement caught Simon's eye and for a second his gaze flashed to her legs. 

Rachel is a natural runner with long, toned, legs which were shown off to devastating effect by a light, flared, skirt which ended just above the knee. It was clear that Simon had never thought of her in sexual terms before but, now that the seed was planted, I could see him doing a subliminal re-evaluation. 

Rachel enjoyed the effect that she was having on him but that did not ease her confusion. "Would you like to tell me what's going on here?" "Well, at a guess, I would imagine that Simon is thinking about kissing his way up your legs."

She looked at me and laughed at the joke she undoubtedly took it to be but some instinct made her then look at Simon. His face was a picture. He could not believe the casual manner in which I was treating him, and, as he saw it, our potential relationship, but, at the same time, he was being driven by a primitive urge over which he had no control.

Within the office hierarchy he was notionally a rung above Rachel on the ladder but, guided by her female instincts, she realized that, just then, some subtle shift in the balance of power had taken place.

"Is that what you would like to do Simon? Would you like to come over here and kiss my legs?" She had served the ball into his court. He could now either laugh along with us or, as I think she suspected, he could surrender to a darker desire. 

I found that I was holding my breath as the tension hung in the air. The three of us remained frozen in place, and I feared that I had pushed things too far, but then Rachel took me by surprise. 

As I watched she took hold of the hem of her skirt and slowly raised it a couple of inches. "Come and show me..."

This was a Rachel I did not know. That she was self assured, confident in her authority, was never in doubt but now she was displaying a hitherto hidden sensuousness and Simon was captivated by it. 

He rose from the sofa and went to her as though in a trance and for a dreamlike moment I thought that he was going to propose. He dropped to his knees but then he bowed down to kiss her gently just above the knee.

She was clearly taken aback but she managed to retain her composure. Without a word she lifted her skirt a fraction further, offering a clear invitation, and he could not refuse. He kissed a little higher but then seemed loathe to move on.

I had to give her credit. She totally ignored me, and seemed completely unembarrassed, as she put his compliance to the test. I wondered if she was being in any way influenced by Rob's recent humiliation; she had not been at the party but she must have heard the story.

She lifted her skirt altogether to reveal that she was wearing stay-ups and, to my surprise, an almost obscenely abbreviated thong. It was a vey sexy look and seemed so out of keeping with her work persona. I would like to think that his hesitation was founded in a misplaced loyalty to me but I suspect that he was engaged in some internal, Faustian, struggle. As if to confirm he gave a low moan of surrender and, having sold his soul, he rubbed his face against her sex.

"Oh God..." Her whispered response was more appreciation than surprise and with disarming alacrity she pulled her thong aside. 

I was afforded a fleeting glimpse of her smooth pudendum before she clawed at his hair and pulled him to her. For a second or two her legs threatened to betray her and I felt a little jealous, my own sex growing hotter as I imagined his tongue now buried deep inside.

I opened my legs just a little and it was almost more than I could do to keep from touching myself but I need not have worried. Rachel was now lost in a world of her own and she paused only to rip off her thong altogether before she made herself comfortable on the sofa. 




Face Up To It



She sprawled with her legs parted and I found myself frustrated that he was blocking my view. "Get yourself over here."

He shuffled forward on his knees and, with another groan, he reapplied himself to her sex. She had her eyes closed but I had no sense that she was in any way embarrassed. It was almost as if she welcomed the audience and I now realized that she was a woman with hidden depths.

It took her just a few minutes to reach a moaning orgasm by which time I had my hand buried deep in my panties. As with Pam it felt wrong that I should be so turned on at witnessing another woman's pleasure but I knew that it was, in great part, to do with the fact that we were overturning all of the usual sexual norms. 

Now that her climax had ebbed she was still reluctant to let him go. She kept her fingers entwined behind his head as she held him in place and I wondered if he was still licking her. 

At long last she opened her eyes and looked at me whilst at the same time she kept him pressed to her sex so that he was not privy to the exchange. I could see, at a glance, that she had reached her own conclusions and there was the slightest of smiles playing on her lips. "Is he new to this?" "Yes, I think so." I tried to convey an impression of my own worldliness but I suspected that she saw through me and I felt just a little in awe of her. It was inevitable that I should draw a comparison with Pam and I wondered just how many women of a similar nature might be out there. 

I knew about dominants and submissives but in my mind it was a something on the fringes associated with underground clubs and the clichés of leather and whips. This was something different. Both Rob and Simon were, in their own ways, confident, alpha males who could take their pick of women but they had both displayed an unexpected and curious degree of subservience. 

What now intrigued me was Rachel's motivation. Pam had said that she was jealous of my relationship with Simon but I had assumed that she meant in the classic boyfriend/girlfriend way of things. It now occurred to me that she had already seen something in him and that she was grooming him for exploitation. 

It was a dizzying thought. Only a short while ago I could never have dreamed of this but now, in the space of days, and within the boundaries of just my own work environment, I had become acquainted with two women who seemed, not only to take it in their stride but, more excitingly, to see it as their due.

She relaxed her hold and allowed him to pull away from her. He turned and sat on the floor with his back resting against the sofa. He was breathing hard and had his eyes closed and I was guessing that he was too embarrassed to look at me. 

Rachel coolly opened her handbag and, having found a tissue, she gently cleaned herself heedless of the fact that she was affording me a clear view of her excited sex. 

When she was done she looked me straight in the eyes whilst, at the same time, she twined her fingers into his hair and, none too gently, she pulled his head back. "Come and show me."

I had not planned to, certainly not in front of her, but there was a challenge implicit in her tone and I understood that, if I passed the test, doors would be open to me. 

I stood up and, in a move calculated to seize the initiative, I began to slowly remove all of my clothing.

A slight widening of the eyes told me that I had taken her by surprise but she did not avert her gaze. I am proud of my body and I stood unwaveringly allowing her to take in the view.

Her smile told me that I had started well and I was amused to see her tug his head back without looking as he tried to see what was going on. 

Now that I was going through with it I felt a surge of heat between my legs and the faint tickle of a single bead of moisture as it made its lazy way down my inner thigh. Drawing closer, I stood over him and found that I was excited by the look of trepidation in his eyes which quickly turned to sheer lust as he realized I was totally naked. Kneeling on the seat of the sofa I deftly straddled his face and this was Rachel's cue to let go of his hair. With his back bowed he already looked extremely uncomfortable but I had no compunction about adding to his woes as I allowed my weight to settle.

His eyes stared up at me from between my thighs as I carefully adjusted my position. I pressed my clitoris against the bridge of his nose whilst my sex itself pinched his nostrils closed causing his mouth to open reflexively. 

Almost immediately I felt his tongue seeking its way in and I flattered myself by thinking that this was what he truly wanted, this one taste above all others. 

His tongue speared deep into my welcoming wetness and, without thinking, I pressed myself more heavily onto his face to drive it deeper still. He gave a groan of complaint but, to his credit, he tried hard to do as I wanted. 

I relented a little and, as I eased off slightly, he diligently worked his tongue in the close confines. I remained still for a minute or two, revelling in his ministrations, and enjoying the warmth of his struggled breathing against my sex. 

I was very wet and soon he was having to swallow audibly to cope the flow. I was aware of Rachel watching me but I paid her no heed as I concentrated on my own needs. 

I began to work my clitoris against the firmness of his nose. My dressing of blonde hairs had long since darkened with moisture and as I rocked back and forth they traced his skin like the finest or artists brushes.

As my climax mounted I was getting ever warmer. My thighs were slick with perspiration and I could only wonder how hot it must have been for him trapped in the furnace of my arousal until I chose to let him go. 

I began to feel the familiar portents. My limbs cramped very slightly and my stomach knotted as my pulse pounded at my temples but the beauty of it was that I did not have to make any allowances for him. I knew that he would keep working his tongue whilst I ground out my pleasure and I teased myself until I could take no more. 

My whole body was a drawn bowstring until I rubbed myself over him for one last time and held myself ready. The snap of release eased all my tensions in one blinding moment of pleasure and then I was rubbing myself viciously on his face as I chased the ebbing vibrations. 

It seemed never ending. Each time I thought I could take no more another contraction would start challenging me to find the strength to ride with it bringing a new wave of ecstasy. 

At the finish I allowed my body to slump. I was dimly aware of him beneath me, struggling to breath and drowning in my outpouring, but I did not have the strength to move. 

It was only when Rachel put her hand gently on my shoulder that sanity returned and I rolled myself off of him. He immediately began to choke and my instant, irrational, thought was 'how dare he'.

I grabbed my clothes and, asking Rachel to excuse me for a moment, I went to the bathroom. 

I damped my face with a towel and looked at myself in the mirror. I was not sure that I liked the women staring back at me but I knew, with certainty, that if the opportunity arose again, I would not hesitate.

I discarded my clothes and took the bathrobe from the back of the door. When I returned to the living room Rachel was using her phone. "I hope you don't mind. I've ordered us a cab. I think he's had enough for one evening."

She smiled as she said it and I sensed that for Simon, in spite of what she said, the night was still young.

Chapter 5

Over the ensuing weeks I felt disconnected from my own life in some way. Both Rachel and Rob signed off on my draft thesis and a great deal of my spare time was spent in polishing the finished article which, when completed, garnered nothing but glowing praise. 

My problem was that I felt as if I had cheated. Admittedly, it was commended by the whole review panel, and not just Rachel and Rob, but I found myself wanting to be judged on my merits and not on any undue influence that may have been exerted. 

I also found that I missed Simon. It was now accepted that he and Rachel were an item and their respective demeanours left no room for doubt as to the true nature of their relationship. Only Pam and I knew for sure but I wondered if any one else had picked up on the subtle nuances.

The question that I kept asking myself was did I miss him as a potential partner or was I missing the things that I knew he would let me do to him?

Fortunately, I was left with little time to stew on it. With the publication of my paper came confirmation that my probation period had been successful and the announcement of my first appointment. I had finished top of a graduate intake of five and I was offered a permanent position on the Far East desk.

It was a prestigious appointment and not something that would normally be offered to a graduate trainee. I was aware of some resentment but I could live with it. The Far East desk was the most profitable area of the bank and it confirmed that I was on the fast track. 

Of course it meant that I had to work with Rob but he turned out to be totally professional. Now that I was on board he wanted me up to speed as soon as possible and I worked long hours in order to learn the ropes. He was, in his way, a good manager which made it all the harder to understand why he was totally in thrall to Pam. 

No one at the bank knew but they were now as good as living together and there was a certain inevitability when, once again, she asked me around to dinner. Not wanting to disappoint her I accepted but I anguished long and hard. I did not want to be disloyal to Rob, now that he was my boss, but she had said things that had piqued my curiosity and memories of our previous encounter still served to arouse me.  

So it was with mixed feelings that I drove out to the suburbs and the large, detached, house that Rob called home. Pam opened the door to me and for a nervous moment I feared that Rob would join us but there was no sign of him. 

Pam proceeded to show me round as though she had lived there for years but I spent the whole time wondering if he was present somewhere and, if so, in what condition. 

The ground floor was a large open space that would have swallowed my flat three times over and it enjoyed views across unspoilt countryside. Pam told me that his bonuses had been generous enough to allow him to buy the property outright and I felt a momentary excitement as I contemplated a similar future for myself.

The dining area was centred on a table that could easily accommodate a dozen guests around which were ranged leather upholstered dining chairs which looked more comfortable than any single piece of furniture that I owned. 

Pam explained that they were a recent acquisition and when she told me the price I blanched. I took a proffered, high backed, seat and Pam served before taking the largest chair at the head of the table. 

The meal was a simple but delicious pasta dish which somehow seemed out of keeping with the opulent surroundings but we were soon lost to office gossip. I restricted myself to two glasses of wine but, by the time she had served up a homemade chocolate soufflé, nearly two hours had passed.

I did not notice how much Pam was drinking but she was beginning to look a little flushed and it was me that suggested that we had coffee in the lounge to take advantage of the picture windows.

To my surprise she said that we should stay as we were and she seemed just a little unsteady on her legs as she went to fetch the cafetiere. When she returned she took a new seat opposite me and suggested that I tried hers. 

I was perfectly comfortable as I was and I have to admit that I thought that the throne-like chair at the head of the table, whilst it matched the others, was too much of an affectation. 

Nevertheless, to keep her happy, I got up to give it a try it but nothing could have prepared me for the sight that presented itself and I did an almost comical double take to make sure that my eyes were not deceiving me. 

Right there, in the middle of the seat itself, framed by the black leather and looking like a bizarre bas relief, was Robs face. It was a bright shade of red which matched the silk scarf blinding his eyes. 

As I looked at Pam in disbelief she laughed out loud. I was not sure whether or not to praise her powers of self control or to condemn her apparent cruelty but as I looked down at him once again I felt an unmistakable spasm centred on my sex. 

"You can talk freely. He can't hear us, he's fitted with headphones." I said nothing but checked the profile to try and figure out how his body was contorted. His feet must have been pointed skywards in the back of the chair but it looked hideously cramped. "Where the hell do you buy such a thing?"

"It was his birthday present, although he paid for it. The chairs were imported as a set from Lief in Denmark. This one had to be especially made to match. I found a woman named Geller in Austria who specializes in this sort of thing. It cost more than all the others put together. Why don't you give it a try?"

I looked down at him and felt a momentary pang of pity. His flushed features bore testament to his two hour ordeal but it was surprisingly easy for me to reason that this was what he wanted. After all, hadn't he paid for it?"

Even as I thought about it I was reaching beneath my dress to slip out of my panties. My heart was racing as I slowly sat down lifting my dress clear as I did so. 

The seat itself yielded a little giving just the right amount of support whilst, at the same time, ensuring that he was totally immersed. As I came to rest two things struck me. His face was incredibly hot and wet but it also seemed unnaturally smooth and I wondered what Pam had done to keep him free of stubble.

For a moment or two I was content to slowly squirm enjoying the contours of his face but then I eased off a little and was rewarded as his firm tongue speared inside me. 

I gave a delighted squeal and was even more amazed at Pam's self discipline. How had she kept me fooled for more than two hours? The answer had more to do with his control than hers. As I sat still he kept his tongue deep inside and I could feel it pulsing gently as he flexed it every few seconds.

I could have sat there contentedly for hours and I suspected that he would have carried on for as long as necessary. It was an enigma. That he got some enjoyment from it could not be in question but the physical toll must have been enormous.

The cramps in his face and tongue must have grown unbearable but he also had to fight for every breath and this was air enriched not with oxygen but with the moist heat and scent of a woman.

I supposed that that I must have tasted subtly different to Pam and I guess that he could tell us apart but then the other clues were more obvious. Pam was a little broader and heavier than I and must have sealed him more cruelly but most obvious of all would have been the primal density of her pubic growth. 

I eased back just a little and, as I suspected, he curled his tongue ready to assail my clitoris. I let him lick for a second or two but then slid onto his face once more. I had one or two questions and I was happy to keep his tongue deeply imbedded until I was ready. 

I gave a shiver of pleasure and then addressed myself to Pam. "Have there been any others? Apart from me?"

She took a moment to consider her answer and I wondered if she was prepared to lie but she was simply opening her heart. "Look, I'm under no illusions. Most people would find this perverted but it fulfils a need for both of us. The orgasms are incredible but, as you now know, they are fuelled, in part, by a sadistic element."

I wanted to interrupt her, to tell her that I was in no way a sadist, but I assumed that she meant in the sense of a voluntary relinquishment of power. In which case there was no denying it. To be so in control, never letting him know how long it was going to last or what might be wanted of him, bestowed a thrill that brought my mind and sex together in a, previously unknown, blissful harmony.

Even as that thought was being formed my sex oozed fresh moisture and I felt him struggle a little beneath me as the fight for air grew momentarily more difficult.

"I know that at some point he will come to his senses. He has no real feelings for me; he just worships his idea of who I am. I don't think he will ever form a real attachment. His career will ultimately win out and he will find himself a trophy wife but, until then, I'm going to milk it."

I found her pragmatic approach a little sad but, deep down, I knew she was right. "But why did you bring me into it?"

She smiled and touched my hand. "Two reasons. Firstly, I recognized something of myself in you. That first time, at the party, I saw how it affected you and your attraction to Simon only confirmed it; a natural submissive if ever I saw one."

"And the second reason?" "The second is a little selfish I'm afraid. I knew that, once he discovered what he truly craved, he would need to know if it was just me or whether it would work with someone else. I introduced you as the "someone else". With no disrespect to you he now knows that he will never find anyone quite like me."

I was a little peeved by her remark, although I could see the truth of it, and in an "I'll show who's best" moment I began to rub myself over his face. 

He was taken by surprise and for a few seconds I lost control. I rode viciously back and forth and I could feel his legs banging in protest at the back of the chair. I was angry but I was also so wet that the squelch of moisture could be clearly heard. 

Pam's smile broadened and I began to laugh. She had proved her point; I still had a lot to learn. I came to a stop but I ensured that his nose was pinched inside my sex. This set off another panicked response but, once again, I felt the perverse thrill of holding his fate in my hands.

At that moment he was drowning in my juices. If I did not relent he would expire with taste and smell of me as his dying sensory experience. 

For the space of a few heartbeats I held Pam's gaze. She knew exactly what was going on and she could hear his struggles. She waited just a little longer and then she gave my hand a gentle squeeze. 

I immediately eased up and felt the rush of air as he forced breath back into his tortured lungs. I had no doubt that he would have cursed but he was frightened that I would lock him into the stifling, humid, darkness once more. 

I allowed a moment for him to breathe normally and then I eased down gently inviting his tongue which, in spite of his ordeal, was soon deep inside. It seemed that the more he was abused the greater his desire to please. 

Pam poured more wine and we chatted but for me it was distractedly. I lasted for nearly half an hour but then I could take no more. I shifted on his face, noting that even his blindfold was sodden, and allowed him to seek out my clitoris. 

He found it unerringly, leaving me to wonder just how many hours he had devoted to this, and he began to lick in earnest. 

It did not take long and I guess that he wanted it over with too. He licked almost desperately, silently pleading with me to come, and I did not disappoint him. I felt my body beginning to judder, in manner that I knew would soon be uncontrollable, and then I closed my eyes and saw sparks. 

Waves of pleasure rolled over me and my nipples felt almost painfully sensitive. I wanted to take hold of my breasts but my arms were rigid, holding myself just so on the seat, as his tongue mounted one more furious assault. 

It was a wrenching climax and I felt myself spurting over his face as I allowed it to take me. It went on and on but I no longer had the strength. I collapsed heavily on to him and tried to catch my breath. 




Face Up To It



When I came back to life it was to find Pam gently helping me from the seat and I looked down to see that he appeared to be in genuine distress. I was going to speak but she forestalled me. "Come into the living room. We'll give him half an hour to recover and then I want another turn."

Chapter 6

At the office I was fascinated to watch Rob when he thought that no one was looking. He had always eyed up the girls, it was almost expected of him, but now I saw how he surveyed their backsides as they walked past. 

Pam had hinted, but never confirmed, that the mystery participant was a colleague and I could see his imagination at work as he tried to find a fit between what he saw and what he had experienced. He would guess, correctly, that it was someone a little less curvaceous than Pam but that did little to narrow down the options.

I was particularly amused to see him checking out Kim. She was a friend of Pam's, and probably fitted the bill, but she hailed from Nairobi and was particularly dark skinned. How frustrating must it have been not even to know the ethnic origin of his tormentress?

I found it amusing to bend over a lot more than necessary, knowing he would look, but our day to day working relationship was so far removed from his secret life that I am sure I never even entered his thoughts as a possible candidate.

The next few weeks passed uneventfully except for some rumours about an internal restructuring. Being the new girl on the block, and seemingly destined for great things, I felt that I had nothing to fear and possibly something to gain. Rob, to his credit, quietly reassured his team and particularly Mark his de facto number two. 

Marks' status was in no way a reflection of his management abilities but was based purely on his position as the star bond trader. He was introspective but was possessed of a razor sharp mind. Rob brought out the best in him and was skilled in massaging his fragile ego. 

I decided, nevertheless, to talk to Pam to see what she knew. The problem was that, as PA to the Human Resources Director, she was professionally very discrete.

It seemed to me that Pam was loyal to her boss above and beyond the call of duty. Dorothy Grier was the banks youngest director and almost universally disliked. It manifested itself in obvious things like the company dress code. Grier had instituted a strict set of guidelines, particularly for the female staff, specifying things like no trousers and no short skirts.

On the face of it this was both sensible and desirable. The problem was that she was not above flaunting herself and it was galling to see how the other, male, directors fawned over her. I guess that she was mid thirties but blessed with the body of a twenty year old. 

Pam met me at the wine bar and, whilst it had been some time since we had seen each other socially, we were quickly at ease with one another but I sensed an underlying tension. It was a minute or two before she came out with it.

"I've moved out." "Of your own volition?" "Yes. It was fun while it lasted." "Did he find someone else?" "No. Worse than that. I guess I misjudged him. He asked me to marry him." "Oh my God!" "Its flattering I suppose but it's not what he really wants. He just doesn't know his own mind and there is certainly no love in it from my perspective."

I took a moment to digest the news and then asked. "How did he take it?" "Badly. To start with he bombarded me with telephone calls but when he realized it was for real he turned nasty. He's trying to get me fired."

"He can't do that." "Under normal circumstances, no, but it's no secret that there is going to be a cull. The senior managers are putting forward a "dead wood" list for consideration. If he wants me out he can count on Marks unquestioning support and he'll get Dorothy to sponsor it."

"Why should she?" "I shouldn't tell you this but she's on her way out. She wants to set up her own consultancy and any loyalty she has to me would be outweighed by the usefulness of Rob as a contact. Besides, they used to be an item."

I was outraged. After a hours further discussion I could still not see a solution. Pam's pay off would be generous, and she would have no trouble finding another position, but friends and colleagues made the bank like home for her. 

When I got back to the office I went to see Rachel. I do not know what drew me to her in particular but I had the feeling that she would be straight with me. I asked her, hypothetically, if the procedure was as cold-blooded as Pam led me to believe. 

She took a moment to consider your reply. "I've seen the list and I assume that you're referring to Pam. It's sad to say but a few people here wield a disproportionate amount of power. If Rob wants her out then it's a done deal."

"There's nothing we can do.?" "If Mark and Dorothy withdrew their support then Rob's name alone would not be enough." "Would either of them listen?"

She gave me a odd smile. "There's no love lost between Dorothy and me so I can't help there...but we may be able to influence Mark..."

She left it hanging and allowed my mind to go to work. The sudden spark of understanding shocked me and I protested. "You mustn't do anything that will harm your own position." "Look, its not common knowledge, but I'm leaving too. I'm being promoted but it involves a secondment to New York. Besides, I like Pam and getting one over on Rob would be a pleasure."

So it was that I found myself in the office car park standing by my car with a conspicuous flat tyre. Minutes later Mark, always one of the last to leave, came out of the elevator. "Problem?" "Flat tire." "Need a hand to fit the spare?" I looked sheepish. "That's flat too."

He looked at me in exasperation. "I don't do a lot of driving. I only brought the car in today to take home some study materials." I showed him two large boxes filling the boot. "Look, I don't like to ask, but I don't want to wait around here at this time of night waiting for the recovery service. Is there any chance of a lift?"

He looked really put out and I got the impression that I was keeping him from a cup of cocoa and a riveting copy of the Wall Street Journal. He was in his late twenties and I was willing to bet that he had had even less experience with women than Simon.

"Is it far?" I gave him the address and he made a point of telling me that it was out of his way before helping to move the boxes to his car. The other traders favoured two door sports but Mark drove an expensive but very utilitarian Lexus. Once outside my flat I asked him if he would be kind enough to help me with the boxes again and, for a second, I thought he was going to refuse but then, with an audible tut, he got out of the car.

As he preceded me up the stairs I noted, really for the first time, just how slight he was. He was a couple of inches shorter than me and probably weighed little more. This, taken together with the soft cast to his features, might suggest a measure of effeminacy, but I knew that he had been in a least one relationship with a girl that the bond team had unkindly dubbed "the church mouse".

I guess that he was already nervous, alone in my presence, but he almost dropped his box when he walked into my living room to find Pam and Rachel sitting there. In fairness to him they presented quite a sight. Pam was wearing a red cocktail dress which accentuated her hourglass figure and pushed up her breasts to present a quivering plateau. She was a pulchritudinous vision of womanhood and any red blooded male would have been impressed. 

Rachel, by contrast, looked coolly mysterious. Her black leather trousers could have been sprayed on and a matching bolero jacket lay open to show a white blouse sheer enough to hint at the darkness of her nipples.

I was also willing to bet that Pam had helped with her make up. She had her hair brushed back from her face and held in a ponytail and this served to emphasis the darkness of her eyes which were shaded with mascara graduating from deep blue to a silver grey. 

I had, until now, not appreciated how full her lips were but a blood red lipstick and contrasting lip liner gave them a "begging to be kissed" look. 

A transformation had been performed and I am not even sure he immediately recognized her as Rachel. My own irrational thought was that if she had walked into a lesbian bar she would have been eaten alive. 

"What's going on here?" I had to give him credit for appreciating that things were not as they seemed but I noticed that, in spite of himself, his eyes were glued to Rachel.

"Just the girls having a drink after work. Would you care to join us?" He looked terrified but he could still not tear his eyes away. "Thanks, but I have to be going." His voice caught in this throat raising it half an octave. Rachel, seeing that she was the centre of his attention, moved closer to him and ran a finger slowly down his tie. "You're not going to disappoint us are you Mark?"

He was now sufficiently worried to look back towards the door but, as he did so, Pam moved the box that he had set on the coffee table and placed it on the floor. Rachel moved even closer and, in trying to lean away, he stumbled backwards onto the table top.

Realistically the coffee table, at nearly five feet long and commensurately heavy, was too large for the room but it had lots of discreet drawer space which was a boon in a flat that was short on storage. He sat awkwardly until Rachel slinked down forcing him further back until he was almost prone. He tried to look round her to speak to me. "I've left the car on a meter. I haven't paid."

In light of what was going on around him it seemed a ludicrous thing to say and I almost burst out laughing. In the meanwhile Rachel used her weight advantage to ease him onto his back and then keep him there.

"Look, I'm flattered but I already have a girlfriend." "Marky...you wouldn't lie to me now, would you?" Even I found Helen's tone sexy and I noted, with amusement, that he was trying to ease his crotch away from her. This was made more difficult because he was unsure what to do with his arms. He did not want to put them around her and so he put his hands flat on the floor and stiffened his body unwelcomingly. 

At this point Pam and I joined in, crowding and disorientating him. By the time that he realised that his arms were bound it was too late. The nylon tights that we used look innocuous but as he tugged at them he only succeeding in drawing the knots tighter.

"Look you've had your fun. I have to go." Now he was really frightened. Rachel swung a leg over him and sat astride his chest whilst she pulled at the knot of his tie. Mark was another who had not been present at the party but he, like everyone else, had heard the story.

He now began to struggle in earnest but he was no match for the three of us as we spread his legs and secured his ankles to the table legs close to the floor. "Please, I don't know what you think...I'm not into this" "Marky, don't be a spoilsport, you might enjoy it..."

My table was shorter than the one Pam had utilized at the office and his head was unsupported but the solution was at hand. My mother had bequeathed me an upholstered footstall which was supposedly a family heirloom. I hated it and generally only got it out when family members came round but now it served perfectly to keep his head up.

"What are you doing?" I enjoyed his look of anguish as I slipped a cushion under his head and then placed two others on the floor on either side of the stall.

In the meanwhile Rachel had slipped his tie free and was now slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt. "You know what's going to happen don't you Marky? It's going to be all three of us. Do you dream of having a real woman?"

She was really getting into it and I felt a moment of envy knowing on whom she had been practising. Mark, for his part, tried to thrash himself free but the nylon bindings held him fast. "Why are you doing this?"

He was astute enough to know that it had nothing to do with his desirability but this only increased his anxiety. "We'll come to that a little later. First it's time for us to have a little fun." She raised herself a little so that she could finish unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a pale, hairless, chest. 

"Okay Marky, here's the question. How long can you hold your breath?" "Please! I've had enough!" "Don't be such a spoilsport. We've got all night. Are you ready?" With that she eased her way forward until she was astride his head with her knees comfortably settled on the cushions on the floor. 

The leather of her trousers was so tight and so new that it creaked as she took up her position and I knew that I would have to buy a pair for myself. The way that they accentuated her taut cheeks was amazing and it was hard to resist the urge to touch. 

"Stop it! Stop it now!" His words were cut short as she slowly bent her knees and enshrouded him in darkness.

He renewed his frantic struggles against the bindings but must have realized that he was using up what little air was left to him. He calmed down but there was now a constant, despairing, moaning.

I wondered if Rachel felt as aroused as I did and if the scent would penetrate the leather. When, a few seconds later, she gave a satisfied moan of her own the question was answered.

She must have kept him under for more than a minute before she relented and let him draw a breath of air. He gasped it in and was about to plead when she sealed him off again. 

Over the next few minutes she repeated the process but kept the intervals irregular so that he no chance to prepare. He fought for air wherever she allowed but he was growing noticeably weaker.

I watched with rapt attention and it was Pam that alerted me to the bulge in his trousers. I had read somewhere that some animals, when cornered in the wild, will often show signs of one final attempt to ensure the survival of their genes and I wondered if it was a measure of his fear rather than arousal.

Finally Rachel got up altogether to reveal his punished features. I saw that he had his eyes closed as if it were all a nightmare that he could make go away. "Now Marky, we can make this easy or hard. If you're a naughty boy I'll just leave these on and we can carry on for the rest of the night but if you're good..."

As she said this she unsnapped the fastening at the belt of her trousers and I could see that he was trying to work out which was the lesser of two evils. She started to peel down the tight zip but stopped after a couple of inches. "Have you fantasized about this? Do you sit there in the office wondering what I look like naked?"

I had seen nothing to suggest that he was fixated on Rachel in any particular way but he was almost shaking with fear suggesting that, in one way or another, she had touched a raw nerve. 

"I'm not sure you deserve that particular treat just yet." So saying she reached for the sleep mask that she had asked me to prepare and, ignoring his protests she slipped it over his eyes.

The new zip made a loud rasping sound as she opened it all the way and then she sloughed them off like a second skin before she shed the remainder of her clothing.

He could not see but he could hear enough to know that there was a naked female, and a beautiful one at that, standing over him. His reaction was to try and cower away but he had little room for manoeuvre. 

"Please don't..." He knew it was a plea made in vain and the defeat could be heard in his voice but I could not help but wonder if, deep down, this was something he had dreamt about, something he secretly welcomed.

"Let me see your tongue." Pam and I drew close to see his reaction which was a stubborn refusal but Rachel was unperturbed. Her tight sex had already opened just a little to reveal the neat fronds of her inner lips and she proceeded to brush them against the tip of his nose.

He turned his head, trying to get away, but, at the same time, I sensed a curiosity about him. "Keep still or I might have to get dressed again and you certainly wouldn't like me then."

His fear of painful asphyxiation overcame his loathing and he turned back but this time she played herself over his clamped lips. She was in no hurry and he left himself with no choice other than to breath through his nose. 

She began to exploit this by gently rubbing her clitoris and allowing her sex to bloom a little more. I could smell her excitement from feet away so how must it have been for him breathing it from the source. 

We had set out with no clear plan. Once we broached the idea to Pam she and Rachel attuned to one another like long lost sisters. There was an unspoken agreement that we would all take our part but now that I could see that he was as new to this as we thought I wished that it had been me to break him in for the first time. 

Rachel's sex began to weep moisture and she allowed the droplets to fall onto his closed lips where they found out the tiniest fissures and, slowly and inexorably, the invasion of his mouth began.

He started to swallow hard, trying to deny the taste, but the full richness of it was slowly overwhelming him. 

When Rachel next spoke her voice was not quite as well modulated. "Are you going to lick me Marky or do you want me to come on your face?"

I think that fear of the unknown froze him. His eyes opened wider as she finally lost patience and she began to rub herself on him. She leaned backwards and would not have looked out of place with a stetson in her hand as she ground her sex into his face. 

For all her appearance of being in control she was obviously deeply aroused and seemed determined to climb towards a quick, powerful, orgasm.

With his mouth still closed he began to whimper but that only fuelled her cruelty as she began to move ever faster. I am sure he wished that he had cooperated but, what he did not know, but I knew with certainty, was that, before the night was out, he was going to be licking her to a climax one way or another. 

"Yesss!" Her voice was shrill, joyous and unashamed as she came to rest only jerking now and then as the receding waves rocked her in their retreat. 

When she finally climbed off of him he looked stupefied. The sleep mask had become dislodged in her frenzy and he stared at her sex in terrified fascination.

Spent for now, she slumped in the armchair, and Pam wordlessly expressed her consent for me to go next. I was more grateful than she would know. It had been some weeks since the last time and Rachel's performance already had me hot and bothered.

I quickly stripped out of my work clothes and I surprised myself with the ease with which I was prepared to expose myself to the others but there was more to it. I wanted to see that look in his eyes. That mix of rampant fear and undiluted lust for a body that he could never hope to know in a conventional way. 

"No more...it's not fair." "Don't be ungrateful. You, alone with three goddesses what more could a boy want?"

I picked up the psychological assault where Rachel had left off but once I was astride his face it was hard to stay in control. After all, if she was going to take another turn then why not me. "So what's it to be? Your tongue? Or do you want me to ride your face?"

I think that he was too shell shocked to make any sort of decision and in an effort to encourage him I massaged his face with my sex but that only increased my arousal. In some perverted manner it was an excitement born of knowing that I was rubbing myself in Rachel's juices and somewhere well to the back of my mind I wondered if I could ever make love with another woman. 

"Please...stop." "You know what you have to do."

I eased up from him and his face was a picture of misery. Rachel's sex probably met his expectations, based on a schoolboy knowledge of anatomy, but mine with its proud labia accented by a neat dressing of blonde fur presented him with a new level of realism.