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Sexual Diversions

By: sammican1



This is a story about a psychoanalyst, his assistant and his nurse treating patients who are sexually dysfunctional patients. The real issue is who are more fucked up, the patients or those who treat them?

You choose.

*

Part 1

Sammi meets Emma and Mike.

Even before Sammi had qualified as a nurse she had had doubts as to whether the profession was for her. After qualifying and spending time on the wards of an old, dirty and run down London hospital, those doubts were confirmed. She clearly wasn't cut out for it, well not for typical nursing. 

She couldn't handle the bed pan and being a skivvy aspects, the squalor of the NHS and the stupid wages she got paid. So, with some reluctance, for deep down she was a firm believer in the principal of public health, she ditched her beliefs and joined the private sector. 

She became a contract nurse, a temp, an agency employee. She registered with what she had been led to believe was the top agency in London. People she'd met in NHS hospitals had told her 'They only take people who pass the exams with flying colours.' Sammi had been in the top two percent of her year. They also, Sammi quickly learned from visiting the agency a few times and meeting numerous colleagues only took on well-presented nurses; the sort of blokes and girls you see in Holby City and Casualty, not the tatty sort you see in real hospitals. After passing the interview, taking loads of tests and being told she had been accepted, she discussed the sort of assignment, as they called them, not work or jobs as ordinary mortals would, she would prefer. At the time Sammi had no real idea what they were on about for she just assumed she would work in an NHS or private hospital at higher rates and with better working conditions than in the public sector. As it turned out the agency handled loads of different types of assignments in the UK and overseas thus, giving their contractors a wide choice. With advice from her "personal career councillor" Emma, based on two interviews and the results of her tests, it was decided that Sammi would be best suited and happiest working for consultants in their surgeries or in small hospitals.

"Upmarket, stylish ones," she said smiling, trying to appear cool and sophisticated.

"Yes Sammi of course, with fortyish, hellishly attractive consultants," Emma, beamed back, her big brown eyes seeming to bore right through the young blonde. "All the hospitals that retain us are er, how did you put it, upmarket and stylish?"

"Ok fine," the blonde muttered, suitably put in my place.

Emma came out from behind her desk and stood behind the young blonde nurse. Sammi guessed that Emma was in her late thirties or early forties. Dark, beautifully cut, shoulder-length hair, impeccable make-up and wearing a black pin stripe, stylish power suit with a tight pencil skirt and a three buttoned jacket showing a deep cleavage, she looked every bit the successful business woman that she was for she owned the nursing agency and several other businesses as well.

"We wouldn't dream of placing such an attractive nurse as you Sammi anywhere that wasn't perfect."

"Really, oh, I see." Sammi mumbled hesitantly, a little embarrassed. 

The older woman rested her hands on the girl's shoulders. Sammi turned her head from one side to the other then back again. She saw a set of perfectly manicured, white-painted, square cut nails resting on each of her shoulders. It felt very intimate.

"No Sammi, your enjoyment of your time with us," the older woman went on as she increased the pressure a little, before continuing. "That we hope will be long, is as important as our client's pleasure will be at having you."

Emma was purposefully testing her new contract nurse. She was sending out signals and watching carefully how they would be received. In part it was because she was bi. Not that she would normally risk anything or mar her reputation just for a quick fuck with a young bimbo like Sammi, as welcoming and as appealing as that might be. No, she needed to know, and she got to know about her girls. Over a period she got to know everything about each one. That was her job an was part of the reason why the agency was the most popular, most expensive and most successful in its field. That was why her special clients held Emma and her agency in such high regard; she came up with the goods time and time again; and in the rarefied atmosphere of top end, international health care that was crucial.

Sammi audibly gulped making Emma suppress a smile. 

"Was she coming onto me?" Sammi thought. "There seemed to be double meanings in everything? Was this a straightforward nursing agency, or was there a hidden agenda?" She began to wonder.

At the time, Sammi was approaching her twenty-fifth birthday. She lived in a flat just off Euston Road with three other girls. Other than the fucking awful nursing at the fucking awful hospitals and the fucking awful wages she earned, things were ok. She couldn't, though, have the lifestyle she wanted on those fucking awful wages. So, unbeknown to anyone, she did some modelling on the side, glamour photography stuff, mainly for amateur photographic clubs. Generally working "club" evenings she would pose for groups of between four and ten men in the forties or early fifties. They called the shots telling her how to pose and what to wear as they took some lingerie shots, her undressing, topless stuff, some nude, open legs and touching even. Roughly once a week or so she got booked for a one to one session that paid more, was far more intimate and, Sammi was finding, arousing. 

The modelling paid well, she almost doubled her nurse's salary with it, but it was becoming more and more difficult to keep it a secret, hence, the decision to work on contract. There was, though, another reason why Sammi wanted to stop the photographic modelling. When she did the one to one sessions, increasingly she was being asked if she did "extras." She didn't, but her resistance was waning. After all spending up to two hours with a guy in various stages of undress, sometimes touching her breasts or, if she felt particularly generous, her pussy, as he said wonderful things about her body and took shots of it, can be quite arousing. As a general rule, the guys that booked her one to one were younger and, slightly, more appealing than the club members. Occasionally, they might even be quite fanciable and that is when she really had problems. She hated herself for it, but Sammi was finding it increasingly difficult to continue saying that she didn't do extras. Especially when she heard from other models she met who did offer extras that she could probably charge sixty quid or so for a few squeezes of her tits and a quick wank and around a hundred for a blow job. Easy, but dubious money, or was it she sometimes wondered? Higher paid nursing was far more preferable, she had concluded, hence the signing onto the books of Le Crème Nursing Consultancy. 

They had made a big point in their ads and at the group interviews and assessment she had attended about the uniform or tunics that they supplied. 

"Stylish, sophisticated and bespoke," was how they described it. "Clothes that will make you feel good as well as help your patients recover," they had explained

Sammi had assumed that the uniform differentiated La Crème from the staff of other agencies, in the hospitals and clinics, thus, acting as advertising for them, making the girls feel they were being treated well and meaning that the consultants and small hospitals didn't have to stump up for them. A neat arrangement all round, or so she thought.

"So Sammi, you had better have your fitting, so we can get your tunic made and get you some assignments as soon as possible, hadn't we?" Emma said removing her hands from the nurse's shoulders.

Sammi wasn't quite sure if she felt relieved or disappointed when the hands left her shoulders. Emma walked round her, picked up a file from her desk and leaned back against it, her long legs crossed at the ankle stretched out towards Sammi.

"Er, yes Emma, I suppose we had."

"What are you, size 10?"

"On a good day," 

"Height?"

"Five six"

"Weight?"

"Just over eight and half stone, one twenty pounds or so."

Emma looked up; pushing the reading glasses down her nose and looking over them went on.

"Mmmmm, nice build."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Emma replied holding Sammi's gaze as she added. "And your measurements Sammi?"

Sammi wasn't too sure that she had heard properly or exactly what measurements Emma was referring to, so she said nothing. Emma took over again. Staring deep into Sammi's eyes, she said softly as she dropped her gaze

"Your breasts first."

That word sounded so loaded with meaning. To Sammi, for some reason it reeked of sex; far more so than when the photographers might call out phrases such as. "Shove your tits out Sam or, pinch your nipples". Hearing "your breasts" ooze out between Emma's full, deep red lips and the white, even teeth, seemed as stimulating to Sammi as when a man says. "Darling I desire you so much, let me fuck you!"

"Er, um 33 b."

"You sure Sammi?" she asked staring at the blonde's boobs. Sammi was wearing a fairly tight top so they were accentuated a bit. "They look a little more like c cup to me," she said making Sammi wonder for a fleeting moment if she was going to ask to see them.

"Well to tell you the truth I find it hard to get a bra the right size, for I really think I am b and a half."

"Anyway," Emma said, again looking up and lifting her reading glasses, but this time staring quite blatantly at the girl's chest. "Whatever, they are they are very nice."

Sammi really felt out of her depth. She had never had a woman talk to her like this, never had a woman of Emma's age, sophistication and beauty come on to her like this if, indeed, that was what Emma was doing. 

"Perhaps in this part of sophisticated London, in the high end health care business this was how things were?" Sammi pondered, but she didn't know and had no idea how to handle this glamorous woman. So she kept quiet as Emma tapped into her PC the 25 inch waist and 34 inch hips measurements that the nurse advised were her sizes.

"Mmmm very nice indeed," she said running her gaze unashamedly up and down Sammi. "Do you know your leg size?"

"No, no idea," Sammi replied.

"That's ok, just stand up then."

"Fuck she's going to measure it. She's going to put her hands on my legs. Bollocks."

And she did. Inside and outside leg. Hip to knee and knee to ankle. She knelt beside Sammi, her jacket gaping, her full, ripe breasts pressed against the nurse's legs. She held the tape on Sammi's waist and ran that down to her heel, right down the raised seam of the jeans.

"Thank Christ I wasn't wearing a skirt," Sammi was thinking as Emma said, a little huskily. 

"Now the inside. Open your legs a little please Sammi."

"Fucking hell," Sammi thought," a woman nearly old enough to be my mum and certainly attractive enough to be a model asking little me to open my legs!"

She did as she was asked. The feeling of the back of the woman's knuckles against her crotch through, fortunately, the thick denim of her jeans, was as exciting a sensation as the blonde could ever remember experiencing. 

*

The uniforms were delivered to Sammi's flat by courier a couple of days later.

"Bloody hell Sam," Roni, the scouse actress, well the aspiring one, with whom Sammi shared a flat, said, as she helped carry the parcels and hanging wardrobes into the main room of the large, but fairly run down flat. "What the hell have they sent you?"

"Hang on let me look at the delivery note."

"There's three of three types of outfit."

"What?

"Well there's a tunic outfit, with three of them, trousers and top and three white coats, or so it seems, let's have a look."

They unzipped the hanging wardrobes first. On the hangers in the first one, were three pale blue cotton blouses with small, dark blue epaulets, and three pairs of tailored trousers. In the second there was more of typical nurse's uniform in content, three dark blue dresses and white pinafores and in the third there were simply three, white full length coats. The parcels contained three pairs of shoes, one for each uniform and some more aprons. There were pairs of white and blue flat loafers, and a pair of blue mid height heeled shoes. On them was a ticket. "To be worn with the coat."

"Oh look Sam, there's a note." Roni said pointing to an envelope clipped to one of the hanging wardrobes.

Sammi picked it up and glanced at it.

"It explains what they are. Oh I see."

"What?"

"Well they provide uniforms for all the types of work me might do. The dress and pinafore outfit is for ward work, the trousers and blouses for training and reception and the coat for working in consulting rooms."

"Clever lot of sods aren't they?" Roni snorted, being rather pissed off at Sammi for giving up on her left wing beliefs and becoming as, she put it, a sell out to the fucking Tories.

"It also says to try them on immediately so that any alterations can be arranged today, before my first assignment."

"Assignment." Roni sorted, again. "Since when do fucking nurses have fucking assignments? They have jobs not fucking assignments"

"Well Veronica," Sammi replied quite used to and not a bit put off by Roni's outbursts. "You never know. Mister Mike Steven's is by all accounts quite dishy and it might well be that Emma has set me up with a fucking assignment."

"Bollocks, that stuck up cow wouldn't set you up with a fuck with a fanciable guy, she'd have it herself!"

Roni easily took dislikes to people. And she had to Emma after Sammi had recounted the meeting at the consultancy a few days ago. That had been followed up with a telephone and video interview with a consultant, Mike Stevens who was exactly the 'fortyish, hellishly attractive consultant' type that Emma had promised.

Sammi went into her room carrying most of the outfits as Roni lit a Marlboro and started to make cups of espresso for both of them.

"Jesus fucking hell Sam, you sure this is real nursing tunic and not some form of nurseogram outfit?" Roni said loudly, her mouth wide open as Sam came into the lounge.

As Sammi had put it on and looked at herself in the mirror, she had asked herself the same question. It did seem a little risqué in design. "Men and nurses uniforms," she had smiled as she pirouetted in front of the mirror in the tiny bedroom. 'Almost as fetishist with men as girls in school uniforms' she smiled.

Basically, the tunic revolved around a white coat, which on the face of it was nothing special. Not until you looked closely. The coat was made from the finest cotton. It fitted like a glove and had silver buttons all the way up the front. Round the waist there was a belt that was about three inches deep. It was the same dark blue as the epaulets on the blouse and the white coat and the trousers in the other outfits.. It was elasticised with a clasp that matched the silver buttons on the coat. It was very tight, if anything too tight, for it drew Sammi's already respectably narrow waist in a little. That accentuated both her averagely sized boobs, but more so, the flare of her hips. Hourglass had come to mind as she had looked at herself in the mirror.

Emma had said that it was company policy that all nursing personnel had to wear white stockings or tights. As she had told Sammi that, she had said softly as she looked the blonde right in the eye. "Most of us tend to wear stockings Sammi, hold-ups with lacy tops." As Emma had said that Sammi watched her slowlyy, almost imperceptibly rubbing her leg, just where a stocking top would be.

Sammi's always fertile and imaginative mind had immediately visualised Emma without the skirt of the power suit, her long, long legs covered in the luxuriant lace and nylon of a pair of dark holdups. She was sure she had blushed and hoped Emma had not noticed; she had though, for Emma noticed everything to do with her girls, and Sammi was looking to be a very likely prospect of becoming one of Emma's very special girls indeed.

Sammi had slipped the coat on over her panties and tights. The hem of the coat was about three inches above her knee. Thus, when she bent forward or sat down it rode up and something like six to nine inches of her white nylon, covered legs were displayed. "Just right for lacy hold-ups, I don't reckon." She had thought to herself, as she leaned forward, looking back over her shoulder at her bum in the mirror. She was sure that had she been wearing hold-ups the stocking tops would have been on show. "Just right for ageing men's' blood pressures," she smiled.

"Bloody hell Sam," I can see the outline of your thong and most of your tights", the forthright, liverbird said in her Liverpudlian accent, which was more pronounced when she was annoyed, or excited

"You can't can you?" 

"Well not all the time, but when the coat's tight you can."

Sammi moved closer to the mirror and saw what she meant.

When she bent forward the cotton was stretched tight across her bum and she could see quite clearly the outline of the seam of the tights running right down the middle of her bum. She could also see where the thong ran down from the waistband and joined the tights before slipping between her legs. 

"Oh shit," I see what you mean," she replied adding. "I guess that's why Emma said most of the girls wear hold-ups."

"Yeah you wouldn't have any of those ridges or marks then,"

"I'll get some and try it tomorrow."

"I've got some you can borrow, they're black though, but you'll be able to check won't you?"

"Would you mind Ron?"

It was a little embarrassing undoing the coat, taking the white tights off and sliding into Roni's quite sexy, black, lacy topped hold-ups, in front of her. Embarrassing and, if Sammi was honest, quite arousing, for they had snogged and played with each others' tits a couple of times when they had both been pissed and horny, but then don't most twenty something girly mates at some time or the other do that, or something similar?

With the stockings now on, Sammi started buttoning up the coat.

"Fucking hell Sam, you look amazing like that, you're oozing sex," she said. "Look at yourself in the mirror."

Sammi did and saw what Roni meant. 

The white of the net, see through, bra and thong was set off starkly by the black of the stockings. They were so long that there was only about an inch of skin between their tops and the bottom of her thong. The open coat left everything about her on show, her thighs, her tummy, her pubic mound in the thong, her waist, chest and boobs. The coat hanging open and the contrast of the white and black created a wanton and rather sordid, tarty look that Sammi could see was, as Roni termed it, oozing sex.

"Maybe I should wear the black for work then?" She smiled.

"That would give the patients heart attacks," Roni replied looking at Sammi with an enquiring look on her face.

Their eyes met. They each knew that they would both be thinking pretty much the same; that their minds would have gone back to when they had groped each other on the very settee where Roni was now sitting. Sammi knew that her friend would be recalling the feel of their lips on the other, what their breasts felt like to her touch and the sensations they got from them cupping each others boobs and squeezing and pinching each others nipples. They each knew what the other would be thinking, for it was exactly what they were thinking.

"Oh shit Sammi," she sighed.

"I know Roni," Sammi whimpered back.

"What's happening luv?"

"Bollocks I don't know, but we mustn't."

"No you're right," she said getting up, walking into her room and closing the door.

Sammi went to her own room tingling all over and feeling aroused, but relieved that she and her close friend had resisted going further; it could only lead to a mess. But as she did the coat up and repeated the bending over exercise, she couldn't help wondering just what her friend would probably be doing right now. The vision in her mind of Roni laying on her bed, her jeans pushed down and her hands inside her panties between her legs, was very stirring indeed and it took a strong resolve by Sammi not to rush to Roni's room and bang on the door.


Sexual Diversions Ch. 02



This is the second part of a story about a nurse and a doctor. It may be advisable to read Part 1 first, but that's not essential for this stands alone as a story.

*

The next couple of weeks were wonderful, frustrating and worrying for both Mike and Sammi.

The more she was with him, the more she wanted him and the more inevitable she felt sex with him was becoming. At the same time, the more determined she became not to break her vows about having sex with an attached man.

She didn't know his partner or marital circumstances in detail and her subtle questioning of a couple of the other nurses failed to give her any specific. There was no way that she felt she could ask Mike, but equally there was no way that she could consider doing anything with him if he was married or had a long-term partner, she had some standards, not very high where tasty older men were required, but some..

In his mind Mike fucked Sammi nearly every day and certainly every night. Most days as he asked his patients the probing questions and they both listened to the often sex ridden answers, he mentally undressed Sammi. Sometimes he had her completely naked as she sat in her designated chair behind the patient, sometimes she simply had the white coat open at the top and wasn't wearing a bra and sometimes the top was buttoned up but the rest of the coat was bunched around her.

At home when he fucked Claire, it was Sammi who was in his mind. And it was Sammi who was in his mind as he sat in the modern, black leather chair behind the glass topped desk that evening after his Consultant Assistant had left for home at just after nine. It was the blonde haired nurse who had captured his mind as he laid back, as he ran his hand over the lump in his trousers, as he undid his belt and pulled the zip down on his Saville Row hand tailored suit. It was Sammi in her erotic white uniform, it was Sammi taking it off, it was Sammi in her skimpy underwear and it was the naked Sammi that was in his mind as he pushed his trousers and CK boxers down in one go. It was her tits and ass that were in his mind as he grabbed his erection and it was her naked body that consumed him as he began to masturbate. And it was everything about her that made him pump his cock so fast and hard that he was spurting onto the glass top of the desk within a minute or two of starting. 

Cleaning himself up, he tried to recall the last time his sexual urges had been so strong to make him wank in his office; he couldn't recall when that was. Smiling, he termed it the Sammi syndrome! 

*

He's a bit of closed book," Cal said slipping his arm round her waist as they walked to the tube.

"Yes he seems to be," Sammi replied wiggling away.

They turned into a, quiet, dimly lit street near Goodge Street station. It was lined with offices and shops most of which were dark and seemed deserted, even though it was only eleven.

"Anyway why do you want to know?" He asked taking hold of her hand, she pulled that free.

Cal had decided to leave. The early, for him, starts two or three times a week at seven just didn't suit his club world, late night lifestyle and he didn't need the money so what was the point of it, he conjectured?

"Do you fancy him?" He went on adding, "Why waste your time with an old boy like Stevens?"

"You mean," Sammi said. "When I could have a young boy like you instead?"

"Exactly," Cal replied completely missing the sarcasm in Sammi's comment. He slipped his arm round her waist again. This time she didn't pull away, she knew he was harmless. "I dunno how serious it is, but he's brought a bird with big knockers to a company of dos at the clinic. She told me she was a barrister."

"What you chatted to her?"

"Of course, I like big birds, especially if they have big tits as she did."

"Let's me off then," Sammi quipped quite liking the easy banter and the feel of his hand on her hip; she leaned her weight against his chest a little.

"Oh no, I like smaller birds too."

"What about their tits."

"You mean your tits?" He asked.

The leaving do had been in the basement of the Spaghetti House near the old Middlesex Hospital where Sammi had spent much of her training. There had been plenty to drink and there was dancing. Cal had made a beeline for Sammi and they had flirted with each other. He was quite handsome, was lots of fun and was really the only friend she had made at the clinic. As they danced, with both of them a little tipsy, she had begun thinking, why not? It had been some time she had made love to Paul and it was on offer in a very no strings attached way with the handsome, Anglicised Pakistani.

He pulled her into a deep doorway.

"I think they're great," he went on cupping Sammi's left breast. She pulled his hand away.

"So what do you think then?" Cal said putting both arms round her.

"About what?" 

"Us."

"Us what."

He pulled her against him.

"Well getting it on."

He was hard. He pressed it firmly against her. He badly wanted the blonde girl, he adored blondes, but they were few and far between, at least as visitors to his bed.

"Come on Cal, don't be daft," Sammi said, starting to struggle.

"It's not daft, you know that, I've seen you looking."

"Looking and doing anything are different," she said as he pressed his erection against her from the front and grabbed her arse from behind. 

"What about when we were dancing earlier, you were up for it then weren't you?" He went on, his hand slipping from the cheek of her bum, down onto the back of her thighs then up under the denim micro skirt Sammi was wearing, without tights or stockings.

"God her arse is fantastic," Cal thought wiggling his fingers against the masses of bare skin left free from the thong.

He bent to kiss her, Sammi turned her face away. She didn't like what he was doing, where he was doing it or the way he was going about it. Had he have been a little less assumptive and shown more subtlety she may well have gone to bed with him. She had thought she might in the restaurant when he had pulled her against his erection and squeezed her bum. Just as the do ended and as they were walking along Tottenham Court Road she had felt that they would almost certainly sleep together for he kissed her tenderly and cupped her breast.

He had changed though. He was no longer asking her, he was demanding, he was trying to dominate and control her. He was making the same mistake as many guys in assuming that because Sammi had flirted a bit that she was up for anything and was theirs for the asking. And that she abhorred.

"What's wrong?" He asked.

"I want to go."

"Why."

"Because I do."

He still had one arm round her, his hand about where her bra strap would be, had she been wearing one, and the other up her skirt on her, nearly, bare bum. She was still crushed against him. His full erection was pressed hard against her pubic mound and squashed into the softness of her tummy. She couldn't help realising that it was rearing a very long way up and quite some distance across her, he was big she thought to herself as he again bent to kiss her.

Cal was not used to girls turning his advances down, and he was not that familiar with being rejected. He didn't really accept the concept of a girl who had let him touch her tits and who he had kissed, later saying no. It had happened a few times, but he had persuaded them round to his way of thinking. After all, he knew they really meant yes, they were only saying no to tease him and build up the sexual tension. He was convinced that all girls were gagging for it most of the time and were always up for it if treated properly, and he knew how to do that.

He pulled his hand up Sammi's back and got hold of her hair at the back of her head. Holding that he bent his face forward, but she turned hers away. There was no way she wanted to kiss him, but his mouth found her neck. He kissed and licked it as he tried to get his hand between her legs from behind.

"Look Cal, stop now before this goes too far," Sammi managed to blurt out, sounding far calmer than she felt.

"What do you mean too far?" He grunted as they looked at each other.

"You know exactly what I mean."

"No I don't. Can there be too far between a guy and a chick?" Cal asked pushing himself harder against her. 

The base of his cock, that part just above where his balls start, was wedged firmly against the lower part of Sammi's pubic mound. It was perilously close to where her clit lie covered by her smooth, thin lips. It was so close she could feel pressure on that stalk of, usually, such arousal. In fact, it was so near that she felt a surge of pleasure as he thrust at her. That made her panic a bit, for she was now worried that she might give in.

"Yes there fuckingwell can be," she snarled.

"When's that then?" he replied again trying to kiss her and once more gripping the soft flesh of the cheek of her arse.

"When the girl doesn't want to, when she say no as I am. Now stop it."

"Stop it? Don't be stupid Sam, you know you want it." 

He managed to slide his fingers downwards and then between her legs from behind as again he thrust his cock against her mound and stomach.

Sammi's panic, or was it frustration, increased when the feelings of fear and revulsion gave way to a rush of excitement. She panicked even more when she felt the familiar sensations of her pussy starting to get wet.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck and fuck again," she said to herself

"I don't Cal, I don't," she said pretty sure, but now not totally convinced she meant it.

Somehow, he had bunched the short skirt round her waist so that his jeans covered cock was pressing against the cotton and satin of her blue thong. She was effectively naked from the waist down. He was kissing her neck for her head was thrown back and to one side. He was manhandling her backwards, further into the deep doorway, further into the darkness, further away from where anyone passing might see them, further into a position where he could fuck her, in fact rape her and nobody would see.

Sammi was struggling, she wanted to get away, yet at the same time she wanted to be fucked.

Cal knew her resistance was reducing. They always did, she was just like the rest. When she said no the first time she meant maybe, when she said no again, she meant yes. It was all a game, just the girls trying to pretend they were not really gagging for it. Just the slags trying to pretend they weren't slags and making out they were highly moralled. Ignore their stupid playacting and go for it was his motto and that had served him well so far.

He got the hand that wasn't on her arse up the front of the pink top that was not tucked into the skirt. That was easy, he knew it would be and assumed the blonde was wearing it like that to make it easy for him. As he knew from when he'd touched her tits at the do, she wasn't wearing a bra. His view from the moment Sammi had walked down the stairs to the restaurant was that she was up for it tonight. Not just up for playing around but for being fucked royally by him. It was, he had smiled when they had danced and he had first pressed his erection against her, Sammi's leaving present to him.

The feel of his hand on her tit made her jerk. 

"No, no, stop," she whined as Cal rubbed and cupped her small, but nicely shaped tits, squashing and squeezing the soft, pliant flesh. He ignored her and simply continued caressing her breasts, squeezing her bum and pinching, far too hard, her nipples. He was now hurting her as well as scaring her.

"Stop, let me go," Sammi pleaded, now though recognising that her struggles and objections were probably sounding somewhat half-hearted, for in reality they were.

Cal could tell he was winning, well had won really he smiled to himself moving his hand from Sammi's bum and sliding it round her body to the front. He looked down. Her skirt was already hitched up and his throbbing erection was pressed against her thong. His other hand was up her pink, long sleeved tee squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. Again, he could hardly stop himself from smiling for at the moment he was doing nothing to stop her getting away. Nothing, that is except arousing her. Nothing, apart from exciting her, no not a thing other than giving the slag exactly what she wanted.

He eased his body away from her a little and slid his hand between them. He slid it onto her, against her thong and down. He slid his hand over her mound with the patch of crinkly, neatly trimmed tawny hairs, he pushed it a little way between her legs, and he slid it inside the gusset of her panties.

"No, no Cal, no," Sammi said aloud as she mouthed "fuck, fuck fuck," to herself." She mouthed that for she knew she was wet, knew she was aroused and excited and she knew that Cal would realise it. She tried pushing him off, but that was hopeless, he was six four, built like an athlete and was very strong.

Still he was fumbling with his hand in her knickers. Just what he was doing she didn't know until he slid it further. Until he found what he was after, until his fingers arrived where he wanted them to be, until he got them just where Sammi didn't want them, but did want them. Yes until he got his fingers right on her cunt lips.

"Fuck me, she's soaked," he thought feeling massively pleased with himself. 

As she felt his hand on her soft, soaked lips, Sammi inwardly groaned. It felt so good, it felt, she had to admit, fucking brilliant. It felt wonderful to have fingers running along and inside her lips. She knew now that she was gone, that there was no way she would be able to resist his advances.

Her body shook, she couldn't help it, she groaned and a low moan slipped from her mouth.

Cal, the sadistic sod that he was, turned the screw. He had won, they both now knew that, but still he had to gloat.

"You dirty, little bitch," he whispered, his mouth against her ear, two of his fingers sliding effortlessly inside her. "You're fucking soaked."

"Fuck off," Sammi replied intent on not giving him any more satisfaction than was essential from her humiliating and total capitulation.

Cal smiled and went on. "I knew you were fucking gagging for it" he said pushing his fingers right into her. That made her grunt and quite involuntarily open her legs a little. She didn't reply, but then there was nothing she could say, there was nothing to be said about her total capitulation.

Cal unzipped himself. Taking her hand he pushed it inside his jeans, right onto his cock, as usual he wasn't wearing anything under the jeans.

As Sammi's hand closed round his long, sturdy, hot and throbbing cock, she felt a wave of revulsion. Not at what was in her hand, for that felt awesome, but at herself. She let go of it and moved away trying to get past Cal. He was taken by surprise for he was sure that he had beaten her. Sammi started to run down the doorway, but Cal was quick, he grabbed her by the skirt and pulled her back.

"Let go you arsehole," she said struggling to break free.

"Shut up bitch," he responded pulling hard on her skirt, hurting her. 

Sammi's skirt was still round her waist, her tee was pushed up above her tits as Cal shoved her against the door at the back of the large entrance hall. Her face slapped against the cold glass her boobs were squashed to it. He had his forearm against the back of her neck restraining her. There was nothing she could do as he ran his hand over her bum and shoved his knee between her thighs.

"Stop fucking me about Sammi, you know you want it."

Sammi was caught up in a combination of feelings. Fear, concern, frustration, guilt and, she couldn't help admitting, excitement. It wasn't the excitement of being sexually aroused, or that of being in a place where they could be caught. It was not an excitement brought about by Cal's big cock or by the prospect of shortly being fucked by it. It was none of those things for it was an excitement caused by the fact that this was all happening against her will, that she was being forced, that she was almost being raped. That was the buzz, the thrill, the excitement.

"Get off me you turd," she said wriggling as she felt his hand on her bum running along the string of her thong, just where it was vanished between her cheeks.

"Yeah, yeah," Cal replied, digging his nails into her flesh and pinching her hard.

"Ouch, that hurt, you sod."

"It was supposed to and if you don't shut I'll spank your fucking arse."

"Piss off." Sammi moaned as she felt his fingers pulling on the waist band of her thong forcing the gusset firstly hard against and then inside the cheeks of her pussy.

Cal was now so into this that his cock, if anything, got even harder. He undid his belt and pushed the flies of his jeans open and the waist down a bit. He grabbed Sammi's hand again.

"Feel this."

"What?" She asked, not thinking for the answer was obvious really.

"This." He repeated pressing her hand against his erection. "My cock."

She couldn't help saying to herself how good it felt.

"Like it?"

She didn't reply and went to take her hand away, but he stopped her. He put his hand round hers so that both her hand and his was gripping his cock. He then started thrusting in and out of the cavity they created. 

"Like your hand being fucked do you nurse? Like using your hand like a cunt, I bet you use it like a dick often enough, don't you?"

"Don't be stupid, you cretin," she replied, actually enjoying his firm flesh surging in and out of the surrogate pussy created by the palm of her hand.

Cal laughed, partly in triumph, partly with excitement but mainly because he had taken his hand away and Sammi hadn't realised.

"I'm going to fuck you Sammi."

It was now exactly what she wanted, but she needed to continue the façade of being forced.

"No you aren't, you're not gonna fuck me."

"Oh yes I am," Cal retorted pushing himself forward so that his cock, still in her hand, was pressed against the top of her leg, right where that became her bum. "I'm gonna fuck you hard and dirty, just as you want it."

And that was precisely what Sammi did want, but couldn't admit to him and especially to herself.

Although it was almost dark in the entranceway, Cal could see that her arse looked magnificent, especially as her face had slid down the glass door a little making her body bend and her bum stick out.

"You've got a great arse, Sammi, I might just fuck that."

That was something she had never done and had a fear of doing.

"No, no, not that, not my bum, not anal."

"Ok, it'll just have to be your cunt then won't it?"

She had no reply to that.

Cal was now really worked up. Pakistani guys, no matter how well off, didn't get that many chances with young, blonde beauties like Sammi and that excited him enormously, as Sammi had done since that first morning some three weeks ago when they first met. He loved thongs, he loved them almost as much as the bums they didn't cover but snuggled up to. And both Sammi's thong and bum looked great to him. He was stroking both almost reverently, almost absent mindedly. 

Sammi was now in a trance-like state. Still a little scared, still concerned, still excited and aroused but now resigned and anticipatory of what was about to happen. And that was her being raped; well nearly she smiled ruefully, in an office doorway. It was that prospect that was putting her into the trance.

His hands felt good on her super-sensitive arse and his cock felt even better squashed against her left leg. Without really thinking, she bent her body a little more, she opened her legs wider and she stuck her butt out more provocatively. Silently she was saying. 'Take me Cal, have me, fuck me, rape me."

He was again holding and pulling on her thong. It was hurting her as the gusset slid along the tender lips between her lips, but the front of it pressing right against her clit, created sensations that easily overcame any pain. The pressure increased, he was now tugging at the waistband, pulling it, stretching it. It dawned on her just as what he wanted to do. It still came as a surprise to both of them, though, when the doorway was filled with the sound of her thong tearing.




Sexual Diversions Ch. 02



"Fucking hell, he's ripped my panties off," she moaned to herself, the extremity of the gesture taking away any lingering doubts she may have been harbouring. A deep moan and a series of low grunts slipped from her mouth.

She felt his cock slip between her legs. She did nothing to stop it.

"You want it now don't you," he said surprisingly softly and without the gloating tone of earlier.

Sammi still couldn't admit that to him so she said nothing. Cal grabbed her hair and pulled her face round. He leaned forward and clamped his mouth to hers shoving his tongue deep inside. He was tugging on her hair, hurting her, making her feel that he might tear it out by its roots. But that was ok, it sort of went with the territory, it was part of the rape scenario and, if anything it turned her on even more.

"Say it Sammi," he grunted against her lips.

"Fuck off, I wont,"

Cal was enjoying the teasing and the challenge. He pressed the tip of his cock right against her pussy.

"This is what you want isn't it?"

"Yes, no, no I don't"

He pulled it away.

"Really Sam, really, you don't want it?"

"No, yes, fuck off."

He slid it right along her slit and then took it away again.

"That what you want? Ask for it."

"No, I won't, I won't ask."

"You will Sammi or you won't get it at all."

"Then fuck off and leave me alone."

"If I don't fuck you, I'm going to strip you naked and leave you here, just like the slapper you are."

"You bastard" she said feeling terrified that he might actually do that.

"You've got it Sammi, that's what I am, a right bastard." Cal smiled taking his erection in his hand and running the tip of his cock down the crease of her bum, along her pussy lips and right onto her clit. He pressed that hard and her body jolted, so severe were the sensations.

"Oh fuck," she couldn't help groaning.

"Say it, say it."

"Say what?"

"What you want."

"No."

"Yes, fucking say it," he snarled pinching her nipple hard, tugging her hair and pressing his cock even harder against her throbbing clit.

The sensations were even more acute this time.

"Oh God, oh shit," Sammi groaned pretty much all of her resistance now replaced by a burning need to be shagged. She wanted that so badly her body was shaking with need.

He again ran the end of his cock along her lips easing just inside on each pass. It was getting too much for her.

"Tell me Sammi, tell me what you want."

It was over, she was finished, her need for sex far outweighed any pride that was left with her. But then she thought how can a girl have any pride left? How can she when she's bent over in an office doorway, her skirt round her waist, her ripped thong hanging down her thighs with a guy's cock being run along her pussy lips?

"I want to be fucked." She heard herself whispering.

"Louder Sammi, louder."

The sod she thought as she repeated the phrase a little louder.

"Tell me again what you want and who you want."

"I want you to fuck me Cal."

And in that grubby doorway that is exactly what he did. He fucked Sammi. But as he fucked her, in her mind it wasn't Cal doing that but Mike. It was Mister Stevens that was fulfilling her rape fantasy and taking her by force.



Sexual Diversions Ch. 03



A pattern developed over the next few weeks.

Sammi and Mike maintained the steamy atmosphere between them, but neither pushed it further. She became used to hearing about the most lurid experiences and making notes about them in his consulting room as Mike mentally undressed her. She didn't do that at work, but in the privacy of her bedroom he was naked, between her opened legs fucking her most nights. That is when Emma's face wasn't between them!

Making notes of women: who had been raped or wanted to be raped, wanted to be abused demeaned and humiliated, wished to be dominated or to dominate, wanted sex with other women or was worried about having sex with them, who felt they were nymphomaniacs or were scared they were frigid, who had committed incest or was strongly tempted to do so, who didn't have orgasms and those that had them too easily and on and on. Men who wanted a whole myriad of sexual experiences, or who wanted to rid themselves of what they considered were the perversions of extreme sexual behaviour. The sexual sufferings seemed endless.

Mike patiently listened to their woes, slowly and expertly then taking them back in time gradually revealing the cause and thus starting to cure the neuroses.

It was fascinating for Sammi to be part of this, but also a little worrying. Each evening when they ran through the cases she found it more and more difficult to remain detached from it all. It was nearly impossible for her not to confuse what she read from her notes to Mike with the clear sexual attraction that she had for him and, increasingly she felt, him for her.

To be talking about a patient that was regularly indulging in threesomes, or one who had told them about how her lover tied her hands and ankles to the bed and then fucked her with a vibrator for hours on end, as she sat on a couch with Mike, his leg occasionally touching hers, tested both their resistances.

Claire was not at all sure that they had that resistance. As she worked in her chambers or spoke in court, she often imagined Mike with Sammi. At times, the vision she had of them was so powerful and then she would have to masturbate. For that was her thing. Not, as Mike thought and half hoped, a lust for Sammi, girls just didn't do it for Claire, but a lust to think of him with other women. Often she had thought of suggesting that he shag another girl while she watched, but she was not sure their relationship was strong enough for her to cope with that.

Emma was busy. She was the Saudi's representative, liaising with Mike and his team on the setting up of for the clinic. La Crème, of course, would supply all the staff and Emma had assigned her top two consultants to the account. She had daily meetings with them and produced weekly progress reports for all the parties involved. This was all on top of her running the worldwide La Crème business and playing her part in her other business ventures.

She had flown to Riyadh to get some contracts agreed and had been quite upset to see just how frail Abdullah was. Frail yes, but not to the extent that all of his sex drive had gone, although he probably could not have shagged her. He was, though, with her help able to get an erection and Emma was pleased to suck his dick until she made him cum in her mouth.

"We have no appointments next Wednesday," Sammi said to Mike as she did her rolling seven day plan.

"No, that's right, I am interviewing all day."

"What for?"

"The new venture I told you about."

"Oh I see," she replied, feeling a little hurt that he had not confided more in her about it.

"In any case, it's your three month review with La Crème on that day, so you wouldn't be around would you?"

"Oh right."

"So how is it going with the scrumptious Mike?" Emma asked Sammi the following Wednesday in her office.

Sammi had arrived a little early and had seen a number of, quite dishy as it turned out, youngish guys, between probably eighteen and thirty five in and around the reception area. She had not thought much about it for she was then called in to see Emma.

"It's going good, I really enjoy it?"

"And him?"

"Him what?"

"Do you enjoy him, have you enjoyed him," the older woman asked with a glint in her eye.

Sammi didn't smile for it was, after all, a bit near to home.

"I enjoy working with him if that's what you mean Emma," she replied rather coldly.

Emma smiled. "Well whatever, he speaks very well of you."

"Good I'm pleased."

They talked for some time reviewing every aspect of the job and Sammi's performance.

"Well that seems to be about everything to do with this posting Sammi," Emma said her eyes boring into the younger woman's. She really was a lovely looking girl and Emma was easily able to imagine her naked, exactly how, right at this moment she would like her, but this was not the time for that sort of thing, later maybe, she smiled to herself as she said.

"Right Sammi, I want to talk to you about another project you might be interested in."

"But I'm happy with Mike, er Mister Stevens," Sammi replied.

Emma smiled at her, as she walked round the desk and sat on the edge of it, one of her long bare legs stretched out towards the blonde. "I'm sure you are, wouldn't any girl be happy with the dishy doctor?"

Emma hadn't bothered to adjust her skirt, which had ridden well up her tanned, lithe thighs as she went on.

"This has to be in total confidence Sam."

"Of course," "Sammi almost gulped, unable to tear her eyes away from the dangling leg with its expanse of golden flesh.

"The project is with Mike, he is starting a new clinic."

"Oh yes, he mentioned it."

"I shall be the General Manager of the place and a director of Mike's company. I arranged the financing with some business colleagues from Saudi and I have to protect their interests. Naturally La Crème has the contract for recruiting all the staff and managing all the non medical personnel including nurses and consultant assistants."

"I see," the younger woman said, wondering where this was all leading.

"And I would like you to join us Sammi."

"Really, but isn't it in Windsor? That's such a long journey."

"It would be residential; you would get free accommodation and food."

"Oh I see," Sammi said, her mind working out just how much she could save.

"And as my assistant and Mike's personal aide there would be a significant rise, most of which, due to the overseas status of the financiers of the clinic, would be paid into an offshore bank account free of tax"

"Wow, how much?"

"The salary?" "Yes," Sammi said although she had really meant how much would be paid tax free.

"You're on what, thirty three now aren't you?" Emma asked moving her dangling leg back and forward almost touching Sammi's jeans.

"Yes, well thirty two nine hundred."

"Well due to the increased responsibility and the longer hours due to living in, this would be fifty thousand pounds with twenty being paid tax free."

*

"It's a completely new form of therapy Sam." Mike said a few days later when they had their meeting about Sammi's new position. 

He had updated her on the plans and progress with the clinic; they had discussed and agreed her job specification with Mike saying how pleased he was that Sammi had agreed terms with Emma.

"So what's so revolutionary about it?" Sammi asked stretching her legs out before her the buttons on the coat straining in the buttonholes, the hem riding up her thighs. She was far more relaxed around Mike now, but that did nothing for how she made him feel. He simply could not take his eyes from her, particularly, when he guessed that she now went commando every day. Each time he saw her from behind and particularly if she bent over the absence of any form of VPL at all just sent his blood pressure soaring and made his pulse race. How he resisted pushing her forward, squashing her chest on his desk, ripping her coat up from the back and fucking her doggy style he had no idea? 

What made his hunger for her even worse was Claire. She talked about Sammi almost as much he thought about her. She had seen her photo on Mike's PC and as she and he made love she would bring Sammi's name up.

"I bet you would like that blonde hair tumbling over your belly, not my tatty mousy stuff wouldn't you?" had been the start. Now, though talking about his assistant had become part of their lovemaking.

"She hasn't got tits like these."

"I bet her nipples are like little pimples."

"You would like to fuck her, wouldn't you?"

"Would you like to fuck her as I watched?"

Were all questions and statements that were said as Mike and Claire made had sex. It was an odd addition to their repertoire and something that was never mentioned other than during sex.

"It's called intereactionary neuroses therapy, INT." Mike told Sammi, who raised her eyebrows for she had never heard of it, despite the reading she had recently done on treating sexually related emotional inhibition factors.

"So how's it work?"

"Well basically getting the patient to act out their problems."

"How?"

"Like a role-play really."

"What do you mean?"

"Using another party to help release the neuroses."

"Not sure I follow," Sammi said a little pissed off that she did not understand what Mike was trying to explain.

"Well let's take Mrs Brawson for example."

"The one who is toying with a lesbian affair and is scared?"

"Exactly. In her case she would be encouraged under sedation to have sex with another woman."

"What, as we observe?" 

"Sort of yes."

"How do you mean sort of?"

"Well this is the difficult part Sammi."

"Really?"

"Yes"

"Why?" Sammi asked thinking she probably knew the answer.

"I observe, you take part, you are in the role-play."

"Jesus Christ, you are fucking joking aren't you?" She couldn't help blurting out.

"No, not at all," Mike replied a little coldly, realising this was not going as he had hoped.

"Can't you use hookers or something?"

"No, the only way the BMA are prepared to license this new form of therapy is if trained medical practitioners are in the role-play. That's why I have been doing all the interviews recently, especially of male nurses."

"Oh at Emma's the other day?"

"Yes."

"What makes you think they will go along with it?"

"Well a tax free twenty grand a year helps and the results of Emma's tests tell us they are emotionally prepared to be sexually experimental and that they do not hold conventional views on sex."

"The tests I did as well?"

"Yes Sammi that is why Emma put you forward to me and why I hired you."

*

Emma knew that it was going to be a tough night. Both brothers were in town and she had been summoned to one of their country homes to the south-west of London, not far from Windsor Great Park and Ascot racecourse.

"The car will collect you at ten," Sunni had said, immediately then cutting the connection.

She had had no personal contact with either of the brothers or Abdullah for a few weeks. That was not unusual, for the brothers were often 'busy' in Monte Carlo, Sun City, Las Vegas or other similar 'business' cities. They had a team of lackey managers, mostly Lebanese or Egyptian, who handled the details of the family's business arrangements; that is if you could call spending near to twenty million pounds on clinic, a detail. But then, when a family is worth billions and earns tax free profits from a multitude of business of nearly two million pounds a day, what's the odd twenty million? Emma had at least daily contact with the managers.

Although the brothers had immense wealth and power, after all they were related to the Saudi royal family, a cousin was a minister in the government, they "ran" a vast business empire and could really buy and have anything they wanted, little things impressed them so much.

"You shaved that for me Emma?" Ahmad had said the last time they had met. He was sitting on an easy chair naked, his hard, throbbing cock in his hand.

"Yes Ahmad," Emma had replied as she stood close to him, her fantastic, heavily nippled tits sticking out from the unbuttoned tunic and her bare pussy on show where he had lifted the hem. "I shaved my pussy for you, because you asked me."

"You are so good to me Emma, thank you," he said as she moved alongside the chair turning so that she faced his knees, her hip alongside his chest, and her bum towards his face. This had become something of a ritual between them when they had sex.

Emma bent over, so she was ninety degrees at the waist. She took his cock in her hands as she stuck her bum out, opened her legs and leaned further forward. As she licked his cock and started to run her mouth up and down its length, all of her womanly places were available to the young man. He alternated between running his hands over her tits and pussy to sliding them along the crease of her ass. He licked her bum, pinched her nipples and slid his fingers into her soaked pussy and tight anus. As all the time she fellated him. 

She was good at it, very good and she prided herself on being good. She was very aware that she was aging and that the power in the company was passing from Abdullah to the two sons. They could buy anything and anybody, especially women, and Emma was determined not to be cast aside for some young bimbos. Ok they might have them as well, as of course Abdullah always had, but she was determined that they should be in addition to Emma, not in place of her.

So as his hips started to surge, as his fingers dug deeper into her flesh, as his breath started to pant, as his cock throbbed harder and as he began to fuck Emma's face, she maintained her sucking rhythm. Not once, not for a moment did she vary or hesitate. Not for a second was any doubt conveyed to the Arab whose cock was buried deep in Emma's face and whose fingers were up her cunt and arse. There was absolutely no thought on her part, or consideration on his about the outcome, about what was to happen, about how they would culminate this first sexual act of the evening. He was going to shoot his cum into her mouth and, looking him right in the eye and smiling slightly, she would swallow it. And they did exactly that.

As Emma prepared for the evening ahead at the grand country estate, she recalled the splash of Ahmad's sperm on her tongue and the back of her mouth and the slight gagging feeling as she held his cock there whilst it unloaded its acrid cargo. It wasn't that unpleasant, but like anal sex, she thought, it was more for the man than the woman. But then hey, isn't that what the world is all about? And if she was really honest with herself, which she tried to be to keep her feet on the ground, she wasn't that keen on men cumming in her mouth. There was little or no physical sensation for her; it was more an emotional charge, but then one of doing something special for him as opposed to him for her. But in the shadowy Arab world of part businesswoman, part lover, part mistress, part courtesan near hooker she inhabited, she did not have the choice of choosing where her men's' spunk was deposited. Having it on her tits, face and bum, up her pussy and ass and in her face was the price she paid, willingly, for the reward that was now well over a million a year, nearly all of which was tax free

Her mobile rang.

"Hello Missus Emma, its Khalid here," she heard realising it was one of the family's drivers. 

Emma panicked a bit. 

"Shit what's the time?"

"It's ok Missus, it is only nine."

"Phew, I thought I was late."

"No I am early, I have a package for you, I will wait."

Just what it is that men have about PVC, Emma had no idea, but that was what was in the package? PVC panties and bra, a neck halter, arm and wrist bands together with black, seemed, fishnet hold ups and high, high, pointed stilettos.

"Wear just these under your fur," the handwritten note ordered.

Emma had never been to Ascot Park for they had only recently bought the twenty bed-roomed mansion. It was a huge house in massive grounds situated in one of the most expensive areas of countryside in the world. 

She was shown into a sitting room where a flunky offered her a drink. She opted for mineral water, for two reasons. One she reckoned she would need a clear head tonight and she had no need of alcohol to loosen her sexual inhibitions for she didn't have any. And two, out of respect for the Saudis who, although they did use alcohol, still had hang ups about the religious connotations, so for all the time she had been involved with them, she never touched it unless they did as well.

It was warm in the house and the fur was making it even hotter, but her instinct told her to keep it on. She did though unbutton it and stood before a mirror.

The black PVC of the deep cut, front fastening bra and thong and the accompaniments were set off well by her olive skin tone. The extraordinarily high heels had been difficult to walk in at first, but she was pleased with the effect they had on her calf muscles, for they pushed them up and with the black fishnets made her long, slender legs look even longer and more slender. The bra was tight so it pushed her full, D cup tits together and up forming a mysteriously deep cleavage that seemed to invite a finger, tongue or cock to explore its clingy depth. The material was also surprisingly thin and supple so that each nipple was clearly showing through it. The thong was also tight and cut steeply up her groins making her pleased that she had shaved her pubes, for there were no straggling hairs poking out of the thong to spoil the effect.

"Wonderful Emma, you look just right," she heard one of them say.

Turning, and letting the fur coat fall open so her body and the erotic gear were on show she beamed a smile at the two brothers. Both were wearing the long robes that Arabs wear, dish dashes as they were commonly known, that looked like nightdresses, Emma always thought. 

She knew from seeing them before that the brother's robes were made from the finest silk, so that in the heat of Riyadh, they would be cool and smooth to the bodies. She was also aware that the studs up the front were real diamonds; so much for the purpose of the dish dash to make all men look the same in front of their god, Mohammed, she thought!

"Thank you Sunni," Emma replied walking over to where the two brothers were standing, loosely holding hands.

She leaned forward and kissed, firstly Sunni and then Ahmad on both cheeks. They both slid their hands inside her coat and up her bare back.

"Yes," Ahmad whispered, "you look wonderful."

Just why they had asked her to wear the PVC, Emma never found out, for soon after that first kiss they were undoing the clasp of the bra, easing her boobs from the cups, pushing her thong to one side and groping her everywhere. She responded fully for Emma was very aware that they needed and, indeed, demanded her full involvement.

As the pair of them kissed and caressed her, firstly standing up, then sitting and half lying on a sofa and then full length on the thick Wilton carpet, so her bra and thong came off and so she established that both of them were naked under the floor length robes. Not just naked but now rampantly erect.

Emma was now just wearing the PVC wrist and armbands, the halter round her neck and the long, black, seamed, fishnet hold-ups. She looked fabulous.

They made no effort to remove their silk robes and Emma did nothing about them either. She had learned over the years that Saudi men did not welcome women taking the lead in an overt way, like undoing their zip or initiating any form of sex; after all in their heavily male oriented society women had a clearly defined place, and that certainly was not ripping their lover's dish dashes off.

Instead, the nearly naked Emma had the surprisingly erotic experience of rolling around on the floor and the sofas with two men clad in their long robes. The feeling of all of that silk on her body, often her front and back at the same time was terrific. Having the cool luxuriant material on her breasts, stomach thighs and bum as, occasionally at first, but then more frequently until it was almost continuous, the hardness of the two erections pressed against her was a new and really thrilling experience. As was, to her, stroking their cocks through the silk, although Emma got the impression it was not new to them.




Sexual Diversions Ch. 03



Threesomes, whatever the gender mix, can be awkward when it comes to the first shag. Who has whom and how that is decided can be such a tiresome decision, but with the two brothers there didn't seem to be any jealousy, they didn't need to talk about or plan it or really hardly think about it for one simple reason, Sunni almost always wanted her arse and Ahmad was mostly after her pussy whilst both revelled in her tits.

Ahmad lay on his back, he pulled his robe up.

"Sit across me Emma," he said, pulling his erection so that it was near to ninety degrees from his stomach. 

He looked bigger than usual Emma thought, realising that was ridiculous as she straddled his loins. She was very wet, so he slid up her quite easily, but it still made her grunt, as it always did, as a cock filled her so splendidly. Ahmad pulled her towards him kissing her, shoving his tongue deep into her mouth, flattening her breasts against the silk of the robe and shoving her bare arse in the air. That felt wonderful, but Emma was slightly scared, as she always was with anal sex. She knew it could be terribly painful if done wrongly and, although Sunni was experienced, mistakes could happen and she knew that her welfare was of scant regard to the two brothers. 

Although, they and their father had now been fucking her for many years, none of them were under any illusions, or delusions come to that, about their relationship. They were male, near royalty, Muslim Arabs. Emma was a Christian female and as such an unworthy infidel. On top of that, in their eyes she was a whore, although they treated her like their mistress; to Arab men there is little differentiation between those two states. So Emma knew that if they hurt her or ruptured anything or, even worse split her skin, she would get the best medical treatment, but no sympathy from them. But she understood that, she understood Arab and Saudi men, she knew the rules, and she had learned the game plan. After all she had succeeded for nearly twenty years in a male dominated business society that was practically closed to females. She knew that her success was at least equally due to her great tits, splendid arse and the clever use of her pussy as it was to the superb business services she provided.

She heard Sunni approaching her, and her heart started to pound. She managed to glance round and she smiled at him when she caught his eye, although she felt far from smiling. He had the bigger cock of the two and with his dish dash pulled up above it that too looked sturdier and longer than normal. A little shudder of apprehension went through her as she saw him take a tube from his pocket. She watched him, as Ahmad licked her neck and cheek, undo the top and squeeze a large dollop of clear jelly onto his fingers. Ahmad pulled her face back to his so he could kiss her again, so Emma didn't see Sunni rubbing the jelly all over his cock, but she felt his fingers massaging it all round the puckered hole of her anus.

She heard and felt him kneel between his brothers slightly parted legs, she felt his hand on her arse, the tip of his cock running across the two cheeks, slipping between them and then the tip of it nestling against her hole, right against the lubricated, slightly stretched opening to her arse. Ahmad knew this was a delicate and difficult moment for her and he wrapped his arms round her, although Emma wasn't sure whether that was to comfort or trap her.

Sunni looked at the naked arse that the woman was offering to him. It was a beautiful shape and so ready for him. In his way he loved Emma, but more like he would love a mother than a girl friend, so to him, what he was doing was committing incest. He was having sex with his father's whore and that is why he wanted her arse, not her cunt that was what he used when he had proper sex, not when he fucked his mother!

Emma's sphincter muscle had been stretched many times so the pain was not acute as Sunni eased himself inside her. The tip went in very easily, there was a moment or two of difficulty for her as the bulbous head slid in and then she felt the whooshing sensation, similar to that when a cock went up her pussy, as his length went fully up her back passage. He wisely didn't move for a while but simply moulded himself to Emma's back and reached round to hold her big tits, she lifted herself up a bit to help him.

She had rarely felt so filled, she was stuffed to overflowing and it began to feel good. She experimented by wiggling her bottom a little. She was rewarded by a series of terrific sensations. She couldn't be precise just where they came from, though, or whether it was the cock of the brother that was up her cunt or the one that was up her arse that caused them. It didn't matter, though; all that did matter were the sensations, the excitement and the sheer buzz of being roasted by two brothers.

*

Sammi was pissed off. She was annoyed and disappointed at Mike. How could he think such things of her she wondered? She would leave, money wasn't everything, she thought. Then she looked at the new clothes, the new shoes and she thought about the MINI Cooper S that was on order and the holiday she had just booked with three girl friends in Ibiza. Perhaps it is she smiled?

"What the fuck's going on?" She said loudly down the phone.

"What do you mean darling?" Emma replied, perfectly aware what would be annoying Sammi.

Sammi ranted for a while.

"Look why don't you pop over and we'll talk it through."

"I'm still at the clinic, I won't finish until eight."

"That's ok, I have loads of work to catch up, so come on over then."

Sammi got a cab for the cross town, north east to south west twenty five minute journey, something she would never have done before joining La Crème. Paying the eighteen pounds fare made her think again about money not being that important. 

"Nice outfit luv," the cheeky, surprisingly young, but rather fanciable cabby said as he looked at Sammi leaning forward offering him the twenty pound note through the cab window. She had become so used to wearing the white tunic she tended to forget how revealing it could be, especially when she leaned forward as she was now. "Off to a fancy dress party?" He added 

"Shit he can see my tits," she thought, feeling a tinge of embarrassment, but also a shock of excitement. 

"What the fuck is happening to me?" She asked herself as she pulled the sides of the cloak round her and said. "Keep the change" turned and walked away, purposefully, she acknowledged, but as good as unconsciously, she knew, accentuating the wiggle of bare arse under the nurses outfit; fortunately the cloak covered that.

She had to ring a bell outside the locked doors of the La Crème agency in Knightsbridge. "Hi, Sammi?" She heard Emma ask?

"Yes."

The buzzer went and the outer door unlocked as Emma's voice over the intercom told her to come in and go to the sitting room, as the La Crème people called their boardroom. It was the place where Emma had told her about the new clinic a week or so ago. The offices were dim for most of the lights were out, but it was light enough for Sammi to find her way. She tapped on the sitting room door that was ajar, a marginally brighter light coming through the gap.

"Come right on in Sam," Emma called out.

Slipping off the cloak that La Crème had recently added to the uniform, partly as autumn was arriving, but mainly because many of the girls had complained that when they travelled in the white tunic they got too many men staring at their tits, Sammi walked in to the room.

She was amazed to see how Emma was dressed. She was wearing what Sammi quickly worked out was an updated version of the very old fashioned sort of nurses uniform that pictures of Florence Nightingale and the like wore in Victorian times, during the Crimean war for instance.

It was made from a slightly shiny, black material, a bit like taffeta, and it had a furled collar that scooped down across Emma's great tits, creating a deep cleavage. It was very tight across them and her waist around which she was wearing a white apron that came down to about her mid thigh. Beneath that Sammi couldn't see any buttons, but the skirt was a few inches above the knee and again very tight.

"Hi Sammi, how are you?" Emma said brightly, slowly turning on the spot. "What do you think of the new uniform?"

"What for La Crème?" The blonde asked her eyes searing in on the amply gorgeous roundness of Emma's bum inside the shiny material that was moulded tightly across her buttocks and legs, looking as if it had been sprayed on her body.

"No for Mike's new clinic staff," Emma replied pirouetting again letting Sammi take in the black hosiery, the row of tiny buttons from Emma's waist to mid way up her cleavage, the slight wobble as she moved hinting at no bra and the tiny wrinkles at her ankles suggesting she was wearing stockings and not tights. Emma stood still facing Sammi, she put her hands on her hips, her legs slightly parted and asked.

"Well?"

Sammi couldn't reply at first for the uniform was overtly sexy and extremely erotic; it was made more so for her when she saw the very clear indentation of Emma's hardened nipples.

"Wow," I suppose.

"I just got the prototypes from the dressmaker and thought you would like to be the first to see it," Emma explained inviting Sammi to sit on one of the sofas and getting her the requested drink of a white wine spritzer, Emma had vodka and water.

There was a low coffee table in front of the beige, suede covered sofa. Emma perched herself down on that, her knees pointing at Sammi, the skirt riding up her legs as she sipped her drink.

"What do you think of it?"

"It's great," Sammi replied honestly adding. "Why do the outfits have to be so er, um, sexy I guess."

"Do you think they are Sammi? Do you think they are really sexy?"

"Yes of course I do, all the girls do."

"And does the marvellous Mike think that as well?" Emma asked taking a sip of her drink and looking right at the young nurse over the rim of her glass.

Sammi answered a little frostily.

"I don't know and I'm not sure I care too much."

"Oh? How's that a lover's tiff?"

"We aren't lovers." "Yet?" Emma said smiling. "And never will be," Sammi exclaimed.

"That's a very long time view Sammi," Emma said standing up and looking down at the blonde nurse, getting pretty much the same view as the cabby had earlier. "Anyway, you didn't come here to tell me about shagging Mister Steven's did you?"

Looking up at Emma, Sammi was struck again by the fullness, size and gorgeous roundness of her full breasts.

"No I didn't and I haven't, I told you."

"I bet you would like to though, wouldn't you?"

"I never go with attached men."

"I didn't ask you that, I asked if you would like to."

"Not now no."

"Why because of his new treatment method and 'cos he asked you to be part of it?"

"Yes I think he should not have asked, it's wrong immoral even."

Emma smiled. "Don't be silly, it's advanced medical science."

They talked about the morals or otherwise of Mike's new way of treating people who were sexually dysfunctional for some time.

"Let me show you something," Emma said moving over to a laptop on a desk off to one side. "Come over here." She patted a chair beside the one on which she was perched.

They were quite a contrast. Emma fortyish, Sammi mid twenties; Emma dark, Sammi blonde; Emma full busted and curvaceous, Sammi small chested and slim; Emma wearing a sexy black nurses outfit, Sammi a white sexy uniform. Apart, quite different, but together a combination of sheer sex on legs.

"These are you test results."

"What test?"

"Those you took at the interviews."

Emma scrolled down the database until Sammi's name came up. Under it, Emma pointed, were the names of the various tests she had taken and a percentage.

"That's where you rank in the population for that test."

"How do you mean?" Sammi asked, genuinely interested in the tests for she was intrigued by measuring peoples' psyches.

Emma ran the cursor down the screen highlighting a series of test names and scores. "Well in this test we measure your Moral Conventionality and there are only 15% of the population who are less conventional than you. In this, Setting Own Standards there are only 10% who are less likely to work to their own standards and in this, Receptiveness to Alternatives you are in the top 5%."

"So what does it all mean?" Sammi asked, slightly bemused, but slowly beginning to see what Emma was saying, just as she realised their knees were touching, her white nylon covered knee and Emma's black nylon covered one.

Before answering Emma highlighted one further test name and score. It read Social Repression, 5%.

Emma turned towards Sammi and smiling said softly.

"In short, you have the morals of an alley cat Sammi and are up for anything."

"Oh fuck off," Sammi couldn't resist saying, "You're making it up."

Emma pressed her knee more firmly, Sammi moved hers, and Emma's followed, but just brushed Sammi's.

"So what's this test then?" Sammi asked pointing out one that said DQ.

"That's stands for decorum quotient."

"And that means?"

"Again, in short, whilst, you are not likely to comply with normal standards on sexual morality you will probably disregard social conventions and will probably be uninhibited, however, you will act with decorum and style and will have a sophisticated approach and attitude."

"Really, is that all true, those tests can measure all that?" Sammi asked genuinely impressed, for what Emma was saying was broadly true.

"Yes, I have used them for some time now and they have proved to be very accurate," Emma said as she got up and freshened their drinks. "So you see Sammi," she said handing the glass to her young nurse, "Mike was not being assumptive, rude or insensitive, I had briefed him on the test results, he was perhaps a little hasty in telling you."

"He was bloody hasty as good as asking me to fuck half his patients."

"Well not half," Emma replied. "From looking at his patient load and case notes."

"You see those?" Sammi asked a little incredulously."

"Of course, I'm setting up his new computer systems. Seventy four percent of his patients are female," she said turning and walking across the room, the tight, shiny material of the amazing nurse's dress clinging to her "to die for" arse. Emma went on quoting percentages and numbers that she seemed to know off by heart, about the various types of sexual problems. "So there," she said with a flourish, opening a wardrobe door. "There are only about twelve male patients and fourteen females where you would need to be part of the role-play."

"At the moment," Sammi replied.

"Yes of course at the moment and yes that will increase, but soon, end of Q1 we have planned, you will be able to hire an assistant. So that's all not too bad is it Sammi and, of course don't forget the money."

Emma had made the second and third spritzers much stronger so she wasn't surprised at the quite dramatic change in Sammi's approach."

"No I suppose it isn't really."

"So you'll do it then?"

"I'll think about," Sammi said, knowing full well that, indeed she would do it.

*

Mike, who was usually the coolest and most collected of men, was excited. Everything was going great, his grand plan, his big ambition, establishing his own clinic, looked as though it really was about to happen. The Saudis and the German's had come through with the big money, his bank had valued his house at far more than he had expected and they had confirmed that they were prepared to lend him the three hundred thousand he needed to make up the half million the backers insisted he put in. Emma had agreed to be the operations manager, he had recruited most of the staff he needed and, as importantly as most other things in many ways, last evening over dinner, Sammi had said she was on board. 

And finally, his one time mentor, Sir Bernard Prestle, an emeritus professor of advanced psychiatry at Oxford, had agreed to join him as Clinical and Medical Supervisor. To get him to take that on was a real feather in Mike's cap and an enormous fillip for his new treatment method; with Bernard's support, the whole BMA would be likely to be behind it, making funding easier and referrals from other consultants an inevitability.

Although only in his early fifties, Bernard was probably the leading light in treating sexual and other similar emotional neuroses by treatments based upon Freudian as opposed to Jungian theories. They had been close ever since Mike was at medical school where Bernard was the youngest professor in his field in the world. Despite being only ten or so years older, Mike looked on Bernard as his surrogate father, his having died when he was in his early teens. So, on all grounds, clinical, business, reputation, emotional and pure friendship, Mike was delighted that Bernard and he would once work together.

So now both the clinic and his launch of his revolutionary interactive neuroses therapy really did look as though they were going to happen.

Even things with Claire were going well, although Mike had no idea why.

*

Sitting in the high backed chair, his wrists tied to the bar behind him, his ankles to the legs he was naked and blindfolded. He was erect, stunningly so. The sensory deprivation of the blindfold and the restrictions of the straps was such a turn on that even if he couldn't see Claire, but could only hear her moving round the bedroom, it had made him hard, harder than he had been for some time.

"What's going on Claire?" He called wondering.

"Be patient, you'll find out soon."

He heard and felt her moving close to him, he could also smell her perfume. He felt material brush against his bare arm, smooth material, not a dress though and certainly not the lace or silk of a nightgown.

"How do you feel?" she asked standing behind him.

"Fantastic, tremendously aroused and absolutely as horny as I can be."

"Mmmmmm lovely," she whispered, pleased with her efforts and their effect on him so far. "Well," she went on her fingers running across his bare chest and finding a nipple that she, rather harshly pinched, making him wince with the sudden pain.

"Ooooo," he grunted.

"Don't be a baby, or I'll give you something to really moan about," she went on reaching down and stroking his cock, feeling pleased that it was hard, very hard, hard enough to fuck with, she thought.

"Now that's a nice threat."

"No darling," she whispered that was a promise, her fingers going to the blindfold. "Would you like me to take this off?"

"Yes, yes please."

"Would you like to see me?" She asked loosening it.

"Of course, yes."

"See what I am wearing, what I look like?"

"Yes, yes Claire, I would."

She undid the blindfold but left it over his eyes. He went to shake his head to remove it.

"No, don't do that; leave it where it is until I tell you to shake it off."

Claire moved round and stood in front of him a few feet across the room from where he was tied to the chair.

"You can shake it off now," she said quietly.

"Oh my fucking Lord. Good God alive Claire," he groaned, "You look amazing."

As indeed she did.

She was wearing her crisp, white, lawyer's shirt complete with the winged collar. She was wearing her straw coloured barrister's wig with the short pony tail. She was wearing the black, flowing courtroom gown. She was wearing the dark stockings that are de rigeur for lady barristers in the high courts of London and she was wearing the sensible, mid height, heeled shoes that are comfortable to stand in when examining or cross examining. And that was it. No skirt, no other cover, no panties and no bra, not even a suspender belt for the seamed stockings were holdups. Apart from where the silver stud near to her Adam's apple was holding the two sides of the winged collar together, her shirt was open, her tits were bare and they were poking out through the starched cotton. Her nipples were hugely erect; her unkempt, as good as untrimmed and certainly never shaved, bush of pubic hairs was clearly on display at the top of her chunky, full thighs, which were slightly parted showing the glistening lips of her pussy that was clearly soaked. Claire simply stood there, a small smile on her face, one hand on her hip, the other dangling by her side as she said.




Sexual Diversions Ch. 03



"So Sir Bernard, do you want to fuck me now?" She asked the fifty five year old professor and her lover's mentor.

*

He had never been to Saudi before. He had done some consulting work in Qatar and Bahrain and had been to Dubai on holiday a couple of times, but had never had reason to visit the main country in the Middle East. And from what he had heard he wasn't looking forward to it. What with the restrictions on women, no booze and the lack of practically any form of entertainment: cinemas, theatres, pubs, bars and clubs and its seemingly excessively harsh laws, it really had little attraction for him. Other than one that is, yes there was one thing driving him to come here. Money. There was plenty of that in this oil rich, tax free kingdom and some of it had been half-promised to him.

He was sure that the revolutionary approach he and a couple of colleagues had developed to treat deep rooted psychotic disorders and neuroses would be a success. He had it all worked out, the location, the key staff, the marketing and the treatment processes. His financial projections modestly, he and his accountant felt, indicated a break-even after two years, a million profit in year three and then just upwards and onwards after that. The only problem was that he needed nearly twenty million sterling to get it up and running. 

His partner Claire, a barrister who specialised in corporate law, had introduced him to some German financiers she had met during a deal she worked on. They were solid people, with reasonable backing and, Claire had found out during the deal, a healthy attitude towards sex. In her terms, that meant when the business was finished, she got fucked. And most nights when the deal was being completed that is exactly what she and Korlen Gunter, the guy to whom she had introduced Mike, her partner of ten years, did in the Intercontinental hotel in Dusseldorf. 

Mike and Claire had met with Korlen several times. It was particularly interesting for Claire to sit in on the meetings, lunches and dinners in both Dusseldorf and London, with two men she had slept with; Mike, her lover of ten years, and Korlen her lover of hardly more than ten minutes. Obviously, the German knew that Mike was shagging her. What intrigued, but didn't concern her particularly, for her relationship with Mike was pretty open, was whether Mike felt she had slept with Korlen.

As it turned out, Korlen and his private equity group were stretched at the time. "Well the German economy is a bit fucked at the moment," he had said, looking right at Claire as the word fucked slipped through his lips, making her almost giggle. He had agreed, though, that they would come in with five mil, but no more.

*

I do know some people, though that are big in health care and are just dripping with money, who might be interested in this." Korlen had said, as his foot pressed on Claire's under the table in Claridges where they were dining one evening

"Really, going to tell me who?" Mike asked sliding a slither of monkfish that must have cost about five pounds into his mouth.

"Just one problem, in some ways, they are Saudi, quite near to the royal family actually."

"What's the problem?"

"Saudis are so difficult to deal with. They take ages to make their minds up, change it often and then decide something completely different."

"But they have the money?" Mike asked.

"Oh yes the al Korensi family is close to the King and was granted the contract to run most of the hospitals in Riyadh and Jeddah. They have the money ok. The problem is the old man Abdullah who we have always dealt with is on his last legs and his two sons, both in their twenties are starting to run the business, and they are unknown quantities.

After having several meetings cancelled in London and one in Berlin, Mike understood perfectly what Korlen was talking about. There just wasn't the urgency or organised approach that European and English business relied on about them. An appointment in a diary was only good until something more attractive, such as a grand prix, a horse race in Australia or polo in Argentina, came up, then it was ditched; no apology, no explanation.

Korlen did manage to organise one meeting, though, and Mike had felt it went well. He had given them a presentation and was quite impressed by the questions the two young men asked at the Dorchester Hotel where they were staying. He had followed that up with a detailed proposal, but had heard nothing for some time until this invitation to visit them.

"That must be good news for Mike, isn't it?" Claire asked as she climbed down from the front seat of the black Ranger Rover and got into the back.

"Probably, but you never know, they might just be using it to impress dad," Korlen said, joining her there and immediately cupping one of her large breasts in his hand.

They had both found an attraction to having sex in places where there was a danger of being caught. Hence, they were in car park in woods near to Elstree where Korlen had a small mews house. That gave them, and especially Claire, the double whammy of fucking in a car park and doing it close to where his wife lived.

And fuck they did. They didn't undress, though, and in some ways, keeping her loose baggy dress on, but having Korlen remove her bra and panties, made it all the more exciting. Especially, when at one time the dress was bundled up round her neck and his cock was between her breasts that she was holding together to make a surrogate cunt for him to fuck.

It was a particular turn on for Claire to go home to the house she shared with Mike in Islington, with her bra and panties in her bag and her breasts still sticky from where she hadn't washed away all of Korlen's spunk. 

Mike was impressed and depressed by Saudi in about equal measures. It was far more modern, clean and friendly than he imagined, but at the same time, the heat, the crowds, the bartering and the absence of entertainment and fun pissed him off enormously.

He had been booked into a very swish hotel in Riyadh, near to the new government buildings and embassies and had to kick his heels there as Korlen's contact, Brahim a Lebanese, set up the meeting; nothing as simple, Mike frowned, as agreeing a time and just having the meeting. Oh no, one party he was supposed to meet was in Jeddah and the other in Yanbu, to which either town the meeting might be switched. He had phone call after call with Brahim and Korlen, both of whom telephonically shrugged their shoulders as if to say. "Well this is Saudi and that's how it is out here."

After four of the most frustrating days of his life and just when he was about to give up and go home, he got a positive call. He was sitting by the men only pool, the women had one too, at the hotel when Brahim called to say there was going to be a meeting at the Prince Banda military Hospital at eight this evening.

"With one of the al Korensis?" He asked.

"Maybe, but unlikely, one of their aides probably, a trusted one, though, so it's a very positive step, he will decide whether they should see you or not."

"How?"

Mike heard Brahim laugh down the phone. "Only Allah and the al Korensis know that."

"Gee thanks."

As it happened the meeting went well. At the end of it, after he had suffered the embarrassment of having to sit in an office when the aide went into another room and without shutting the door gave prayers to Allah kneeling on the floor, he was asked to wait.

"This is Mister Michael" the aide said from behind him.

Mike turned and saw an old, frail man.

"This is Sheikh Abdullah," the aide said.

The meeting didn't last more than five minutes, but it was, Mike realised with excitement, with the top man.

Abdullah was polite yet businesslike, but, Mike felt with a degree of frustration, not that well informed on the clinic project. Still, he rationalised, there was some movement and hope, especially when he said.

"My sons should be available within a couple of days to meet with you, but in the meantime I would like you to meet our consultant on such matters."

He told Mike that he would be called at his hotel and the meeting would happen tomorrow, sometime, maybe, if not the next day. Getting used to the Middle Eastern equivalent of the Spanish manana, enshallah, he took that with a pinch of salt. 

Naked, following his third shower of the day, Mike called Claire. 

"Bollocks, where the fuck is she?" He wondered, leaving a message for her to call him, stressing, only if she returned within the next hour, aware that the UK was three hours behind Saudi and he didn't want to be woken in the middle of the night, if she was out on one of her jaunts. "I wonder who she is fucking at the moment?" He thought, as he had a pee and flicked through the channels of mind numbing boredom on the TV.

"I am imagining you sucking Sammi's tits." Claire said down the phone, no more than twenty minutes later after they had chatted for a minute or two and Mike had asked what she was doing.

"What?"

"Yes she has that white coat on, it's open and she is naked underneath."

"Where did that come from?" Mike asked.

"Just the pits of my filthy mind."

"Yes so I see."

"See, you mean hear, don't you?"

"Well yes of course, sorry."

"Want to hear more?"

"What, about Sammi?"

"Yes, want to hear what I am imagining you doing to her?"

"Sure, why not? Actually yes I would love to."

"Where are you?" Claire asked.

"In my bedroom."

"In bed?"

"No on it?"

"What are you wearing?"

"Nothing."

"Mmmmmm, how delicious, are you hard?"

"No, not yet."

"Do you want to be?"

"Why yes, that would be nice. What are you wearing?"

"Absolutely fuck all, I'm completely naked, I took everything off when I decided to call you."

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I want to have phone sex, I want to fuck you over the phone."

"How?"

"How would you like me to fuck you?"

"Anyway you want." Mike said, his hand, as if guided by some form of sexual arousal instrument, going to his cock that was now starting to harden.

"I'm playing with my tits, Mike, just as you do and just as my mind is imagining you playing with Sammi's."

"Are your nipples hard?"

"Mmmmm, wonderfully so," Claire replied pulling first one and then, after she switched the phone to loudspeaker, both at the same time. "God I wish you were chewing them Mike," she went on recalling that little under an hour ago that was precisely what Korlen had been doing, as they stood in a shop doorway in Highgate Road.

Mike's cock was growing quickly. He stroked it.

"God Claire, I'm getting hard so quick."

"How hard are you?"

"Very hard now," Mike replied looking down and seeing that his erection had reared all the way up his flat belly almost to his naval.

"Are you hard enough to fuck me?"

"Yes Claire well hard enough to do that."

"Well fuck me then, bend me over and fuck me, make me cum. Wank yourself Mike."

"I am you stupid bitch," he muttered as his hand started to pump faster. "You do it as well."

"I am listen."

"Oh fuck yes," Mike blurted out as he heard the buzz of her vibrator.

"I'm doing my tits first Mike, each nipple then each tit, Ok?"

"Mmmm wonderful."

They had never had phone sex before, but then they were never parted for very long so this was different.

"Now it's on my clit, is that what you want."

"Yes let me suck your clit, let me lick it and suck it."

"Are you wanking hard."?

"Very hard."

"Good, do it faster."

He did. "What about you, Claire?"

"I am just about to shove this vibrator right up my cunt and pretend it's your cock fucking me," she lied, for it was her German lover that was in her mind. It was him, for he had sucked her tits, shoved his hand up her skirt and fingered her, but hadn't fucked her and that had left her feeling extraordinarily horny when she arrived back at their house just ten minutes ago, her panties still wet. Hence, wanting to phone fuck her long-term live in partner.

"Shove it up," Mike croaked also feeling extraordinarily randy as he now, very quickly rubbed his cock. "Hurry C, you've made me feel so fucking horny I'll cum soon."

"So will I," Claire answered truthfully, the memory of Korlen's mouth on her tits and fingers up her pussy and the buzzing, throbbing vibrator in her cunt, sending her quickly towards the promised land of orgasmic delight that she so needed to visit.

"Aaaaaargh," Mike groaned. "You've done me you bitch I'm cumming."

"Good, cum, Mike, cum with me, I am cumming right now."

"Yes you horny bitch," he moaned as he felt his balls tighten and cock shudder as it got ready to do its primary job, well after peeing that is.

"Cum on my tits, cum On Sammi's tits," Claire grunted as her cunt seemed to catch fire and her tits seemed about to explode.

"On both tits, I'm cumming on your's and Sammi's tits."

"Yes my big, fat tits, Sammi's little small ones."

"Claire's big, soft titties and Sammi's pert, firm tits," Mike grunted as his cock exploded. "I've cum."

"So am I, so am I," Claire moaned as she held the throbbing vibrator as far up her as she could and, at the same time, roughly and furiously in the throes of her climax, squeezed the soft flesh of her big tits.

"Oh yes," Mike sighed as his sperm shot up his body, one globule hitting his chin, the rest splashing over his chest.



Sexual Diversions Ch. 04



It had been Mike who had put the idea in Sammi's head. She had told him that she wasn't sure she could do what he wanted in the role-play therapy, but that she was thinking about it.

"Tell you what," he said, "I have to go to Saudi in a couple of weeks time to tie up the details on the deal, why don't you take a holiday and think everything all the way through."

"Ok thanks, that sounds a good idea."

"If you would like I could arrange for you to use a friend's house in Barbados, it really is lovely, and it would be free."

"Really?" Sammi replied, a little suspicious and getting the feeling it might be some form of "persuasion."

"Yes, this friend has Barbadian residence for tax purposes, but spends most of his time in Australia so he needs the house to be occupied and the gas and electricity used to show the authorities that he's been there."

"He's not though, if I use it."

Mike laughed. "Don't complicate things, ten days in Barbados for the cost of your air fare, why worry about Brad's tax problems?"

Sammi phoned her closest friend, Mel. She had bucketfuls of money, plenty of free time, loved the sun and had, how had Emma described her, oh yes, the sexual morals of an alley-cat; just the sort of girl to go on holiday with, Sammi smiled as Mel said that she would love to come with her.

The ten days in Barbados with her old friend were fantastic. As it turned out it was also somewhat of a watershed on her life. Not only did she finally make her mind up about the new therapy and job, she also found the pleasure of being fucked by a big cock; a big black one as well come to that and a big, black one that was on an older man and that to Sammi, was near perfection.

She had always preferred older men. Why? She had no real answer to that, simply assuming some form of father complex, but she didn't try to analyse it further. Why bother when she was happy with it and got more pleasure from sex with forty to fifty year olds than she did with guys her own age. That's not to say she didn't dabble now and then with young guys and, in fact, in Barbados on the second evening, the two of them met up with a couple of Dutch guys ending up in their beds.

Mel was her oldest friend. They had known each other since they were five or so and they totally confided in each other. Whilst they were incredibly close, trusted each other implicitly and probably loved each other there had neve never been any form of sex between them. Not between them, but when they were teenagers they had had sex in the same car with two guys and once on holiday in Ibiza a couple of years ago, in the same bed with two guys. But much to both pairs of blokes chagrin the two of them hadn't "played." It was just not what two really close girl friends did. It was different with Roni, Sam felt; she wasn't a real intimate and such an old friend, almost sister, like Mel.

"Yes on balance, I think I would do it if I were in your position." Mel had said when Sammi had explained the situation at the clinic and the new therapy. "I mean it is, after all, medically sound, isn't it?"

"Oh yes, without a doubt."

"Even the uniform?" Mel had said smiling referring to the white coat that she had seen Sammi in.

"Well that's not really Mike or the clinic, that's Emma and La Crème, and that's different." Sammi said, the fantastically erotic, black dress and white apron Emma had modelled for her, flashing into her mind.

"But she's going to run the place isn't she?"

"Yes but for a different company, not the agency."

"Oh well as will maybe. If it's a proper thing, then why not take the money and say fuck it. After all what's the difference between that and paying for dinner at the Ivy or a night at a club by opening your legs."

Sammi smiled at her friend's vulgar, but probably true analogy.

"You don't think that getting money for sex is immoral."

"Immoral, what's that?"

"Ok I get the point."

"And talking about sex," Mel said. "Those Dutch guys over there have been giving us the eye for ages."

Mel's advice was the clincher for Sam. She respected her friend, not just because she was bright, but also because she was sharp and worldly-wise with a pragmatic view on sex. She also got on well with her for Mel was probably even more selectively promiscuous than she.

She had also done quite a lot of research on the net, at the BMA and in the Royal College of Nursing library. Mike was absolutely correct in everything he had told her other than he was not quite the leading pioneer and luminary he had implied. The movement in reactionary counselling, as it was also called, was, not surprisingly, the Swedes, where sexual neuroses caused suicides were, per capita, the highest in the world. A couple of eminent psychiatric groups in the US had taken it up and were now actively promoting and using it with, so they claimed, amazing results. She read quite a lot about the moral dilemma of the trained medical staff that were required in the role-plays and that was reassuring, in the main. Just how she would feel, though, when she kissed a woman or a bloke fucked her in front of Mike, she couldn't imagine.

Her mind made up she put all of those concerns to one side to enjoy her holiday with Mel, catch up on all the gossip from back home, get some sun and, hopefully, get fucked a few times.

By the fourth day she had achieved all of the first three, but only part of the fourth. The Dutch boys had fucked 'em and left 'em, the bastards.

*

As Sammi was sunning herself and getting laid in Barbados, Mike was in an even hotter place and was not likely to get laid. He was In Riyadh. It was around one hundred and ten each day and, or so it seemed, around one hundred and nine each night.

In the hotel, where he spent most of his time as usual waiting for meetings that had been scheduled for certain times to happen, there were no women. None of the staff and none of the guests were female, other than Arab wives all covered up looking a little like penguins, he thought. Other than the odd expat wife, again all covered up and closely accompanied by a husband or a "bodyguard" from the company that employed their husband, he saw no women, not in the shops, along the streets, on the buses or driving cars. There were no bars, obviously, no cinemas or theatres, nothing entertaining at all. You couldn't even access porn or girly sites on the Internet, the miserable sods had blocked that.

"What a fucking dump" he had thought several times and gave his thanks for the regular phone sex he had with Claire.

Apart from his last trip and this all the other meetings about the funding had been in Düsseldorf or London. There was the minor excitement of discovering this new culture and the mild expectation that it couldn't really be as bad as most said and that surely, somewhere you could find sex, even if you paid for it. It was every bit as bad, if not worse and as far as he could see, you certainly could not find or buy sex as he most certainly would have done.

In some ways meeting Emma had been awful. 

For the only time he was in Saudi, a meeting happened when it was supposed to; Abdullah's involvement he wondered. He got a call, a Merc, with blacked out windows picked him, on time and he was whisked to the King Fahd hospital just to the south of Riyadh on what used to be the Al Kharj road, but was now an eight lane superhighway. After passing through what was, by some margin, the strictest security he had encountered, far more so than at airports or the government building he visited, he was in the hospital. 

And suddenly there were women, Western women, Indians, Philipino and Thai. Women nurses, women with legs, albeit covered, women with skirts, albeit long and, unlike women in the shapeless black robes of the Arabs, women with breasts. Just walking past the wards and seeing them started to give him a hard on.

Although, in many ways, his meeting with Sunni al Korensi was the most important of his life, the visions of, what in reality were probably fairly ordinary looking girls who he probably would not give a second glance to ordinarily, distracted him. But if that was distraction, then when he was introduced to Missus Emma, as Sunni called her, their consultant on hospital management, he was lost completely.

He hadn't realised that she was going to be in Saudi, for she hadn't mentioned it when they had chatted about the staffing for the new venture that La Crème, of course was handling. She looked, he thought, absolutely fucking gorgeous. Of course she had to cover up, none of the La Crème type nurses outfits out here, so Emma was wearing a long loose dress, almost a robe and a head scarf. Although the long, flowing garment covered most of her curves, a movement or a gesture would occasionally stretch the thin material across her breasts or her bum. That rather defeated the idea of the dress, which was to hide the woman's womanly features so that male onlookers would not get aroused. It failed completely on two counts as Emma, of course, knew it would.

She said little during the meeting, just answering a few questions Sunni had on Mike's plan and proposal, As it ended she left the room with Sunni, who had said for Mike to remain there. He sat twiddling his thumbs for half an hour or so, reading some papers to do with the deal.

"How about lunch?" He heard a female voice asking and, turning was pleased to see it was Emma.

"Can we do that?" He asked standing.

Smiling and pushing the head scarf off her head, she looked him right in the eye, and rather flirtatiously said. "Mike, when you know your way around Saudi, you can do anything, and I do know my way around."

He walked alongside and occasionally behind her through a myriad of corridors. It was, he often reflected, the most erotic walk he had ever had. He saw more and more nurses, some quite pretty, was continually smelling Emma's lovely perfume and, particularly when he moved behind her to go through doors, he saw the enticing wiggle of her great arse. In normal circumstances the walk through the huge hospital would not have been anything special, but in women and sex starved Saudi, it was an incredible turn on for him

*

When she had booked the holiday with Mel she had contacted Wilson. She had got to know him when she worked at her first hospital in Birmingham. Wilson and his wife Gemma had been so kind to Sammi and she had spent lots of time with them, all three of them being nurses at the same hospital. They had kept in touch when Sam moved to London, but when Wilson went home to Barbados four or so years ago, after Gemma had been tragically killed in a road accident, they had lost contact with each other, although they still exchanged Christmas and birthday cards. She had phoned him from the UK just after she had booked the holiday and he had invited her to come to his home. 

"It's quite near to the flash area you are staying, Sam," he had advised. "Give me a ring when you're there and make all the arrangements."

She had told Mel about it, who had, so she reminded Sammi, met him and Gemma when she had come up to the hospital for a ball.

"If I remember he was very tasty, how old would he be now?

"Around forty five, maybe fifty."

"Just right for you then," Mel smiled, knowing too well her friend's penchant for older men. "Maybe he's got a friend."

Mel understood that Sammi wanted to be by herself with Wilson, catching up on old times, so she arranged for a day round the pool.

It wasn't planned; it hadn't been hinted at or thought about; not in all time they had known each other. It was the furthest thing from both their minds, well the conscious parts of them at least. And it wasn't her, it wasn't him and it wasn't them. It was circumstances. It was the circumstance of their long friendship, the circumstance of the three of them being so close and the circumstance of Gemma now not being with them. It was the circumstance of Sammi being in Wilson's home country, in his home town, in his home and then in his arms as they embraced on the doorstep of the small, neat bungalow. It was the circumstance of her wearing a little sun top and a skimpy shirt and him wearing white shorts, tight ones and a yellow vest. It was the circumstance of Sammi crying as they spoke of Gemma, of Wilson consoling her and of him telling her there was no one else. Yes it was the combination of all those circumstances that caused them to fuck, that caused Sammi to stay with him all night, that caused him to fuck her several times and caused her to come to adore his great big, hard cock. It was true what they said about black guys she found out; something that had never really crossed her mind, until Wilson and Barbados.

So, as they kissed hello, as he cuddled Sammi, as he held her, as she clung to him and as they consoled each other over their tragic loss, they found something else; another emotion, another feeling, something that had lain dormant and hidden in each of them all these years, a strong lust for each other.

And that caused the intended peck on the cheek to become a kiss on the lips. The kiss of friendship to become, a mouth open, lip squirming, tongue plunging kiss of likely lovers. The tender embrace to become an, almost, bear hug of a cuddle. The holding of each other to become a grinding of their bodies and the light touches that two old friends give each other to become urgent, enquiring caresses.

Nothing like it had happened to them before. They couldn't understand what was happening, their minds were reeling, their bodies were aflame with passion and their emotions were running riot with lust for the other.

There could only be one solution, one outcome, one result. After just a moment or two, that became an inevitability, it was as certain as night follows day. Following just a few moments in each others arms, there was no alternative whatsoever other than for them to have sex. 

*

Mike and Emma had lunch in a villa in the vast grounds of the hospital that they reached by using a golf buggy and which turned out to be where Emma lived in Saudi. 

She had sat him in a beautifully furnished lounge and had given him a drink, surprising Mike with her well stocked bar. She had left him alone for a few minutes. When she returned his heart had started to pound, for she was wearing a western style dress that was short, tight, thin and revealing, emphasing her great tits, fabulous arse and wonderful legs.

It was served by a pretty Thai girl who was continually popping in and out of the dining room, freshening their drinks and offering tea or coffee.

Emma explained her role in the venture to Mike and told him a little about her history with the al Korensi family. He learned that she was a qualified nurse and had worked in numerous hospitals becoming a sister at Barts at the very young age of twenty eight.

She explained that she had become frustrated at the poor money so, after divorcing her first husband, she went to work in nursing recruitment. That was how she got to know Abdullah al Korensi, some fifteen years ago. He owned a number of clinics and hospitals for which Emma won the recruitment of nurses from Britain and Thailand. She didn't exactly say it, for she liked people to think the success of La Crème was all down to her, but Mike guessed the money for setting up the agency had come from the family. 

As they ate lunch and sipped a dry white, French wine she told him that she had first worked for them supplying nurses on contract, but then in addition to that she had, over the years become a consultant to them and had worked with them on numerous deals including the two private hospitals they owned in the UK and the big deal when they bought six in California.

Over coffee after lunch, sitting side by side on a sofa, the hem of Emma's skirt a good six inches above her knees, Mike's cock exploded into a full erection. It wasn't just the view of Emma beside him, it was also what she said.

"So Mike I will be working closely with you."

"You'll see a lot of me, here and in London."

"Please ask me anything at any time."

"Get in touch with me whatever the time, I really am a 24/7 woman."

The images that these and other phrases conjured up in his mind were lurid, graphic and pleasantly dirty. They were supposed to be, for that was exactly the images that Emma wanted to convey, for she was testing Mike. 

What she had not told him was that in addition to the nursing agency and a couple of other businesses she had told him about, she also ran a small, but highly efficient investigative agency. Working solely in the medical field her agency did background checks mainly for recruitment purposes, but also for the family when they were doing deals. Her findings not only advised them on the financial state of their partners or adversaries in deals but also on their reputations and any other relevant information that might be of use to them. And that included any dirt or scandal that could help their dealings. 

She had recently read the agent's report on Michael Robert Stevens. So she knew that he was a philanderer and that he shagged pretty much anything that came his way. She also knew about Claire and that she too shagged pretty much anything that came her way including the al Korensi's German partner Korlen Gunter who, from her earlier report on him she knew, also shagged pretty much anything that came his way including, as it happens her, several times. 

She made no moral judgements on any of this, for if truth be known and in differing circumstances, she too would probably shag pretty much anything that came her way. But in her position that was not possible. No, Emma reserved her shagging for one reason only, one very special reason and that was business. Other than on a very rare occasion, she no longer fucked for pleasure.

So, as she had purposefully sent those images into Mike's mind, as she put the pressure on him and turned up the heat it was all business.

The investigation into his background had established that he always claimed to "never mix business with pleasure as far as sex was concerned."

Ahmad and Sunni had read that and laughed, not really believing it, for they and everyone they knew was quite the opposite. Emma had been lying naked between them as they laughed and joked about Mike's vow. One of them had said that maybe she should find out how true it was. That was how they worked with her. They would never order her to do anything or be direct and say, "Why don't you try to fuck him Emma?" But that is exactly what they meant by the vague remark. They knew it as well as Emma did.

And that was exactly what this nice little lunch was all about, Emma was trying to fuck Mike.

*

Sammi was as aware as Wilson was that sex between them was not only inevitable, but also seemed essential. Her body was reacting to him and the circumstances with the feminine alternative to the huge lump that had so quickly grown in his shorts and was pushing against her flat tummy and thighs. So there was no resistance at all when Wilson's hand found her breast, she wanted it there, she relished it there and she loved the feel of it there. Her smallish breast, inside the thin top without the cover of a bra came alive the moment he cupped it.

"Oh Sam," he whispered, those marvellous feelings a man gets from touching a woman's breast, particularly for the first time, shooting through his body.

"Shush, don't speak, don't say anything," Sammi whispered back, those marvellous feelings a woman gets from having her bare breasts caressed shooting through her. Her mouth covered his, stopping him saying anything further.

He didn't, but instead kissed her back even harder as his fingers revelled in firstly finding that she was not wearing a bra, secondly enjoying the softness of her breast and thirdly pinching the beautifully erect nipple that announced its readiness for sex by making a noticeable lump through the thin material




Sexual Diversions Ch. 04



She wasn't thinking, she couldn't, there wasn't room in her mind to cope with the rush of feelings and to think about what they were doing, why they were doing it, where it might lead and the possible repercussions. All she could think about was this big, loveable man who she had known as a dear friend and a husband of an even dearer one. This six feet three black hulk of manhood who even now at, probably forty five, had the firm, lithe, trimmed body he'd had in his thirties and which men half his age craved for. It was Wilson, his mouth, lips, hands, body and, of course, the obvious erection that she was so pleased to realise he was unashamedly pressing against her, pushing into her flesh, enquiringly and invitingly. 

Unlike many men when they kissed her for the first time, he didn't try to hide it, he wasn't either, ashamed to show his feelings or, embarrassed at his body's reaction. No, he was happy to show her in the most illustrative way he could how much he wanted her.

Although rarely an instigator of sex, when involved in it, Sammi played her full part. When her inhibitions had gone, when she relaxed, when she was assured of the man's intentions and when she was aroused she found the confidence to play a very full part indeed. So, as Wilson's hand pulled her top out from the waistband of her skirt, slipped inside the material and thrilled her so much with the skin of his fingers on the bare flesh of her breasts, she reacted; she played her part.

And God was he big, she thought as her hand closed over the shape of his erection outside his shorts.

He pushed himself against her hand, just as obviously and as confidently as she squirmed her tit against his. He was daring her, inviting her, maybe challenging or even asking her to go further, which was exactly what she wanted to do.

Still with their mouths clamped, their lips squirming and tongues probing, she undid his zip. Fiddling her hand inside, she was restrained by the tightness of his shorts that is until she felt him reach down and undo his belt and the button at the top of his fly. She felt his hand leave her chest and half felt and half saw him push his shorts down, using both hands. He was not wearing anything underneath. He pulled his body away from hers and looked her right in the eye. Without blinking or even smiling and with a deadly serious look on his face he peeled the yellow vest off and stood before her, fully naked. He took her back into his arms, crushing her frail body against his big, black nakedness.

This was what she liked about older men and why she largely rejected guys her age or younger. The confidence and the assurance they had. The way that Wilson had taken his shorts off, the way he was able to be naked before she was, the way that he led her, taking and directing, but not being assumptive or pushy and the way that he made their lovemaking a mutual expedition.

He grunted as she touched his cock, she sighed as one of his hands returned to her breast and the other slid up her microskirt right onto the cheek of her bum. He felt so rampant as her fingers closed round his long smoothness, she felt so wanted as he lifted her top up and over her head. And they both felt fantastic when the whiteness of Sammi's b cup breasts was crushed against the blackness of his muscular torso.

Her skirt seemed to just simply fall away. They kissed more with Wilson alternating his hands between her tits and the pert cheeks of her bum, and Sammi squirming her tummy against his cock, that she had now clearly established was bigger in both length and girth than anything she had previously seen, let alone had.

It had never happened to her before, well not like this, not like when Wilson, without asking, picked her up in his arms, clamped his mouth to hers and carried her into the bedroom and laid her in the middle of a double bed. She looked up at him standing beside it. He was magnificent. Her heart leaped at his shape, his physique, his muscular body and his smooth, glistening blackness. If her heart leaped at those features, it simply pounded with a combination of sheer horniness, wanton anticipation and real concern for her physical well-being, when she looked properly at his cock for the first time. It was not the length that alarmed her, she was pretty sure that would not be a problem, although she had never seen one in the flesh that reached above, actually some way above, a man's navel. It was its thickness that concerned her, that made her pulses race and which made her start panting half with fear, half with expectation. It looked almost as thick as her wrist.

Not only did Wilson look magnificent, standing totally naked and fully erect alongside the bed, he also looked so proud, confident, relaxed and aroused. Not the arrogance she sees in kids, but the assurance that comes with the knowledge that you look good and are good. And with a cock like that, she was thinking, he has every right to feel good.

Wilson knelt on the bed, but Sammi stopped him lying beside her. She wanted to reciprocate first. Looking him right in the eye she lifted her bum from the bed, slid her fingers into her thong and slipped it down her legs so that she too was nude. And that felt very good, particularly when he did lie beside her, when he took her in his arms, when he kissed her again, when he crushed her soft womanliness against his hard maleness and when he thrust his big cock against her soft belly. It felt even better as his hands ran all over her body and as hers stroked and caressed his chest, his face, his back, his bum and, of course, of course, of course that immense cock. That felt fabulous to both of them. 

It got even better though.

Wilson eased her onto her back, he laid on top of her supporting his weight with his forearms, he rested his cock on her stomach, the base of it and that thick sinew or tube that runs up the back, pressing right against her clit. He kissed her, tenderly and gently as he moved his body so that he slid between her legs that she opened for him. He smiled reassuringly, probably very aware of what would be going through her mind, he must be used to it, Sammi thought, before wondering, perhaps they are all big in Barbados? She almost smiled when the thought came into her mind "perhaps that is why it is such a popular place for holidays."

Then it was entering her, sliding in, opening her up, stretching her and finally filling her. 

Her womanhood did its job; it expanded to Wilson's cock going in, just as it was designed to expand to a baby coming out. Sure it hurt a little and of course she was tight and apprehensive, but as he penetrated her, it was nowhere near as bad as she feared. But what was so different, what was such a variation to how she thought it would be and what was so much better than even her wildest imaginings would have thought, was the feeling once Wilson had settled himself fully inside her.

All women love the feeling of being filled. It's at the heart of them enjoying being fucked and it's the prime feeling that produces female orgasms and makes them cum. Women love being stuffed, Sammi loved being stuffed and never had she been so filled or stuffed like this. 

It was amazing, she felt as though her entire insides were being pushed around and that her pussy was filled to overflowing, it was like putting too much food in your mouth, but not feeling as though you might gag, instead receiving sexual stimulation everywhere there was food.

Wilson held her tight, gently kissing her face, hair, neck, lips and ears. He so considerately waited until her body adjusted to him and until her pussy lips and insides became used to his size. Then, looking her straight in her eyes he fucked her. He fucked her just as they both wanted it, hard, fast and dirty. He fucked her on her back, on top of him and on her side. He made her cum and cum and cum before exploding inside her. And once he had done that, he did it again and again over the rest of that afternoon, evening and into the night

*

To this day, Mike has no idea how he resisted her. How he resisted when she leaned forward, touching his knee, laughing at his joke and flashing him a great view of her tits. How he stopped himself when she stood before him sitting on the sofa, the mound of her pubis outlined by the thin material of her dress. And how he prevented himself from sliding his arm round her and pulling her body to his when they were saying good bye and she offered her face to him for a kiss. 

But he had resisted her, somehow, and despite seeing her twice more on that trip, both times them being alone and both times Emma being a highly provocative, he did not succumb to her charms. Not in Saudi or in London where they met several times about both the new clinic and the progress of his Consultant Assistant.

They had got to know each other quite well during that process. So well in fact that one evening after dinner at Mike's current consulting rooms they had got slightly drunk. Somehow the subject of sex and mixing it with business had come up and he had said.

"I never do that; it's a cast iron vow of mine."

"Thank God for that," Emma laughed.

"Why?

"I thought I was losing my charm in Saudi when we had lunch."

"Far from it," Mike had replied looking at the outline of her breasts in the tight jacket of her red suit.

They had joked about it quite a bit after that with Emma making remarks such as, "No good wiggling my butt for you is there?" or "Pointless me flashing my tits to you then?"

Mike had been in Riyadh for over a week this time. He had attended numerous meetings as everything was discussed, agreed and finalised. He had not yet seen Emma, but had met Abdullah several times. The next stage would be all the legal work and then the completion which was planned for six weeks time in London.

"Hi fancy a drink, a DVD, dinner, me?" Emma said jokingly down the phone, late one afternoon.

"All three actually." Mike replied, actually meaning it, for after a week with no sex other than a couple of phone calls with Claire, he was feeling very horny, as Emma knew full well he would be; after a week in Saudi men always did. And that was when, if needing to persuade a target, she always put the pressure on. 

She didn't need to persuade Mike though and as she had got to like and respect him she had given up trying.

"Pop over then, we can at least do the first three, and you never know on the fourth do you?"

"Now, now."

"Yes I know."

Emma was wearing jeans and a loose top when Mike first met her, when he got there. After Emma and Mike had had a couple of drinks and had caught up on all the latest gossip, Emma said.

"I have a meeting I have to go to, with Abdullah," Emma said, using meeting loosely for she had been bidden to his Riyadh town house which was where he took her for sex.

"Oh Ok, I'll go then, can you drop me off somewhere?"

"No you stay, you can have a drink, watch some movies, there's few that are er, a little risqué and then call up Khalid and he'll take you to the Hyatt when you want."

"Great, thanks Emma," Mike said the randy feelings rising in him as he saw the outline of her bra strap through the thin blouse. "Meeting my arse," he thought, guessing she was off to be shagged by the old man. "Have a good time, I hope you enjoy it?"

"Fuck, he knows or has guessed," she thought, wishing now that she had tried harder to fuck him so she would have some hold over him.

"What do you mean, enjoy it? It's a bloody meeting."

"Yeah sure." Mike retorted smiling, feeling pleased that Korlen had told him about how she had been shagging Abdullah for years and how he had passed her onto his sons. "Just like bequeathing them a beautiful vintage car that he's had great pleasure from and which they can now enjoy," was how the German put it, rather eloquently, Mike had thought at the time.

She smiled. "Ok, well, that's my explanation."

Mike smiled as well for, despite her reputation as really being a very, very high class whore and spy, he liked her and by Christ in different circumstances, would he have liked to fuck her.

"As I said, enjoy it then."

"Oh I will, Mike, I will."

Mike decided to push his luck.

"He's still able to get it up then." 

Emma debated whether to reply, for either way that would amount to an admission. She smiled. "We have our ways, Mike."

"I bet you do."

"And I did offer you, so you had your chance. Anyway, I have to get ready."

Emma went out of the room and Mike could hear her in another room moving around. It was only ten minutes or so later when she returned. He was amazed at what he saw. She was wearing the new uniform, the one that the nurses would wear in the new clinic, the one she had modelled for Sammi, the one that Mike had only seen in drawings. The black taffeta dress, the furled collar, the plunging neckline, the tight top, the even tighter skirt, the black seemed stockings and the black mid height heeled shoes.

"Jesus Christ, Emma that looks amazing."

Emma smiled, enjoying the compliment, on both her and the uniform. She did a little curtsey.

"Well thank you kind sir."

"No I mean it," Mike said huskily. "The uniform is fantastic, but surely the girls would have to cover up a bit er um."

"Round the tits, you mean?"

"Yes, exactly."

"Why? Don't you like them?"

"What tits?"

"Yes."

"Of course I do."

"Mine?"

"Yes Emma naturally as any man would." Mike stammered gazing at Emma's magnificent chest.

She smiled again. "Yes of course they will, this is just a mock up, a one off for me, the real ones will be much higher cut."

"So why do you have one of your own?"

"Oh just as a fun thing, something I can wear for special occasions and model for my favourite people."

"So who has seen it then?" Mike asked, feeling a little left out at not being on of Emma's "favourite people.

"Oh Ahmad and Sunni, of course, and tonight, Abdullah."

"I see, just the brass then?" Mike said feeling a little relieved.

"Yes pretty much. Oh and Sammi."

"Sammi? My Sammi."

"Oh my now is she?"

"You know what I mean."

"Yes your Sammi, when I told her about the new job."

"Has she got one of these uniforms, these er, um special ones?"

"No, well not yet, but I may have one run up for her. Would you like to see her in that?"

"Yes of course I would, any man would."

"But you never mix business with pleasure like that, do you?"

"No Emma. Anyway you had better get going or I might just change my mind," he said, his cock starting to harden.

"Really?" Emma said turning and facing him, putting one hand on her hip and pushing her tits out.

"Keep it up and yes I might. You must know what being in sexless Saudi does to men"

"Yes I do, but it's not completely sexless." Emma said picking up a long flowing robe that she slipped on over the uniform.

"Well not for you, no."

"And not for you either, really."

"I said Emma if you keep that I might weaken."

"I didn't mean me."

"What did you mean?"

"What would you do in, say San Diego, if you felt like this, very horny?"

"Probably get an escort or a massage."

"And that's exactly what can happen here."

She, of course, hadn't mentioned to him before, as it could get her in terrible trouble, maybe even the death penalty, but as a sideline, she ran a series of escort girls. Masquerading as nurses, she supplied them to high ranking Saudis and their very special guests. As diplomatically as it was done and with all the protection she had from her high profile famous clients, it was still very risky, but that was why the rewards were so huge.

"What?"

"I think you heard Mike."

"I was just making sure I had heard properly. You could arrange an escort?"

"Yes, but for Christ's sake keep that to yourself."

"Where?"

"Where what?"

"Where would I see her? My hotel?"

"Don't be daft, girls can't just walk in a hotel and knock on your door in this country."

"That's what I thought, so where then?"

"Well you could stay here and I could arrange for one, or two if you want to come here."

Mike was amazed at this turn up. Not just amazed and surprised but very interested and on top of that bloody aroused.

"Two"

"Yes, most of the girls are bi."

"How the hell many do you have then?"

"You don't need to know that," Emma said, hunting through her bag for one the several mobiles she always carried. She found the one that she only used for this business.

"Well?" She asked looking at him, her breasts seeming to be stretching her top, her legs looking longer and her bum looking rounder.

"You sure about this?"

"Of course."

"OK then Emma thank you," Mike said, feeling rather embarrassed and a little helpless at this surprising turn of events.

"One or two, Doctor?" She asked mischievously, her eyes glinting.

"How much is all this going to cost?"

"It's on the house."

"Ok, well two then if that's ok."

Emma went over to her laptop. She pressed a few keys and said.

"Have a look at this."

Mike looked at the screen and saw a picture of a really beautiful Thai girl.

"This is Simoo, Ok?"

"How old is she?"

"Old enough and Kumah is the same age and looks very similar."



Sexual Diversions Ch. 05



It had been a long time since Mike had had one woman sitting astride his face as another sucked his cock. It had been an equally long time since he had been with two such enthusiastic girls and just as long since he had been in a threesome where the hookers really appeared to enjoy it. 

He had actually felt quite embarrassed as Emma made the arrangements over the phone with the two girls. She kept glancing at him and smiling as she told whoever was on the other end of the phone where to come and the time.

"Make it in about an hour and yes," Emma said, pausing and looking right at Mike as she went on. "Give him the very best service, do anything he wants. Ok that'll be fine I know you will." She listened for a moment. "Stay as long as he wants you to, I doubt I shall be home tonight." She put the phone down.

"Er thanks Emma, thank you," Mike muttered.

"You're very welcome,"

She fussed around in her bag and popped in and out of the living room as she finished getting ready to go to see Abdullah. She doubted they would actually shag, he was now too frail for that, but for sure she would, at the very least, masturbate him and possibly give him a blow job. He did have difficulty holding an erection and due to his heart condition couldn't take a stimulant such as Viagra so Emma had to work very hard. She didn't mind though. After all it was purely due to him that she was rich and about to get significantly richer from the clinic project. She had learned early on that you have to pay, one way or another, for everything you get in this world. And if that meant wanking or sucking an old man who had helped her so much, c'est la vie.

"I don't think you have seen my bedroom have you Mike?" Emma asked as she breezed back into the lounge.

He smiled. "No, I haven't had that pleasure."

"Come on then, this way?"

He followed her past the kitchen to an area of the villa where he had never been. As they walked, he couldn't take his eyes off her arse, for in the tight dress her wiggle was emphasised and the soft roundness of her cheeks accentuated. She led him up a short flight of stairs where his face was at the same level as the deliciously wobbling cheeks. It seemed so fucking stupid to him now. All this bollocks about not mixing pleasure and business, not dipping your pen in company ink and the like. Seeing the glorious, soft roundness of Emma's bum, with each cheek beautifully defined just inches from his face, made him want to grab her, shove her dress up round her waist, pull the cheeks apart, bury his face between them and shove his tongue up her arse. And that was just a starter before he then fucked her several times on the bed that was now right before them.

Emma was actually feeling very much the same. Whilst her earlier efforts at seducing him had been purely business, she had begun to really fancy the English doctor, which was rare for her nowadays. 

"My bedroom" she said simply standing by the door as he walked past his arm just inches from her breasts.

"Very nice too, but are you sure we should use this?"

"We?" Emma replied smiling, her heart beating a little faster as the image of being naked on the bed with him came into her mind.

"Well the two girls and me," Mike replied hardly believing that he was talking to her about a threesome with two escort girls; men just didn't do that, they never really admitted that they paid for it.

"Oh I see." She said softly, her gaze catching his.

"Yes," was all Mike could say by way of a reply. He wanted her so much, words failed him.

"Yes?" Emma repeated, putting the emphasis on the question, thinking that he was changing his mind. She followed him into the room, suggestively, he thought, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. Recovering her composure, a little, and realising that there was no way she could have sex with him even if was up for it as she was already going to be late for Abdullah who, unlike most Saudis was particular about time, she went on. "Of course use it, do whatever you wish, I'll stay out the night, so they can sleep with you if you like."

"It really is kind Emma," Mike said glancing at her breasts that seemed to be straining against the material of her dress.

"But then maybe I won't stay out all night," she said cheekily as she opened the door again. "Maybe I'll come home and join you."

"Jesus, don't say such things, I couldn't handle you after the two girls."

"Well be careful for I might say how about before then?"

He stared at her, a serious look on his face. Mike was struggling, he knew that. He was in a quandary. Very softly he replied.

"And if you don't watch out I might just say yes."

"Hmmmm, really Mike?"

"Yes Emma, really."

"Well we agreed you don't do that so enjoy my gift of Simoo and Kumah. And as you fuck them, think of me. And then she was gone. She had to for if she had stayed, she would have broken her vow, which was not to fuck for lust, but for purpose.

The girls were simply beautiful. Slightly taller than Mike remembered most of the women were when he had been to Bangkok and Phuket and certainly curvier, they had that dusky, serene, big-eyed look so typical of Thai people. They had arrived together wearing long loose robes similar to that which Emma had worn. They made the little bows that Orientals place so much emphasis upon when he opened the door and showed them in. They smiled and said how pleased they were to meet him. They then pulled the long robes over their heads and off, hanging them in a wardrobe in the hallway, indicating to Mike that they knew their way around the villa, perhaps from other jobs, he wondered?

They were wearing matching cheongsams. Red silk, with slits up the sides from the hem just above their knees to their hips, they fitted them like gloves. The beautiful dresses not only emphasised their slimness, but also their curves. They looked fantastic and Mike could feel the stirrings as he looked at them.

He offered them drinks, which they refused. He tried chatting, but soon learned that their grasp of English was limited. He wanted to get going, but didn't know how. It was odd, two paid for girls who were his to do with as he wished and he felt shy. He didn't know what to do.

We bat you?" One of them said, he never did quite work out which was which.

"What?"

"Bat, sower, bat."

"Oh bath."

"Yes bat. Bat or shower, you like?"

"Mmmm yes, I think I would."

"Sit, wait, we get ready."

Mike sat in the lounge as they went off without asking the way, pretty much confirming that they knew their way around Emma's pad, maybe it was Emma's brothel, he mused as he sipped probably his fourth glass of white wine.

"We ready now," he heard one of them call out.

Mike worked out that they were in Emma's bedroom. They weren't when he went in, but then he heard them, of course there was an en suite. Pushing the door to that open he went to go in, but was stopped.

"You stay Mike," one of them said from behind the door.

They came into the bedroom together. They had changed and were wearing short, white robes that looked as though they were silk. They had ties round the waist, but no buttons. They came up to Mike and stood either side of him. He looked from one to the other, breathing in their heavy perfume and looking into their deep brown eyes. Their beauty staggered him. Full lips, big eyes, pert noses, high, pronounced cheek bones and jet-black lustrous hair, which they had worn up when they arrived, but which was now tumbling down onto the white silk of their shoulders.

"We undress" the one Mike thought was Simoo said.

"Yes please," Mike replied, thinking they would remove their robes. 

They didn't. Instead as one started to unbutton his shirt, standing in front of him, the other, probably Kumah, stood behind him and reaching round, undid his belt. Their lack of English had its moments, he thought, as they removed his shirt, as they slid his zip down and between them took his trousers and socks off in one go. 

He was getting hard. They looked at the bulge in his boxers and giggled. They put their arms round him and squashed their bodies against his, one on either side. Mike put his arms round them and pulled the two girls more firmly against him, enjoying the feel of the smooth silk and their softness under that. 

He started to pull on their robes, wanting to see more of Emma's gift to him, but they stopped him, saying something that probably meant not yet. They each took one of his hands and started pulling him. In the bathroom he was surprised to see a sunken, kidney shaped bath. Perhaps she does use it as a fucking brothel he thought.

One of the girls knelt in front of him, the other stood behind him. The kneeling one, Simoo he thought, looked up at him her face about level with the outline of his full erection. Her eyes met his as she ran her fingers up and down the length of his cock. It felt fantastic, especially as, at the same time, Kumah was sliding her hands into the waist of his boxers. He felt her easing them down at the back, but as Simoo was now holding the length of his cock quite firmly they stayed in place at the front. 

The combination of Kumah pressing her tits through the silk against his back, her tummy against his bare bum, her hands sliding up and down his legs and all over his chest, Simoo stroking his cock through his boxers and, now her pressing her lips against its outline, was heady stuff indeed. He loved it,

Of course his pants came off, of course the girls oohed and ahhed at his cock and of course they stroked and rubbed it. And of course he just got hornier and hornier and wanted to fuck at least one of them right there on the tiled floor of the large bathroom, but that wasn't in the script, it was not part of their game plan. No hookers of the sort they were didn't just sell a fuck, they provided an entire sexual experience.

They helped Mike into the bath, holding him carefully, almost as if her were a frail old man. That made him think of Emma and wonder how she was getting on with Abdullah. It also made him feel relieved he hadn't given in to the powerful feelings he felt towards her, but he wasn't sure how long that could last. After all, having someone as sensational as her offering herself on a plate to him, probably was, he had acknowledged last night in bed when he had wanked thinking about fucking her, too much to resist. He had come to the conclusion that sex between them was becoming inevitable and sod the stupid, fucking vow he had made.

He lay back in the warm water and watched as Simoo poured oil and salts into the bath. She leaned over the side and swirled the water with her hands making it cloudy and very aromatic. Mike reached out and tried to slide his hand down the front of her gaping robe, but she was too quick for him and moved away. Kumah came from behind Mike, her robe was open, although he could only see her from behind, so he couldn't see what he wanted to see, her tits and pussy. She walked up to Simoo, she stood close to her. Mike watched fascinated as her fingers took each end of the tie around her friend's waist, as they slowly pulled on them, as they undid the loose bow and as they then took hold of each lapel. The girls were staring into each others eyes and, of course, Simoo could see Kumah's body. God how he wanted to, Mike was thinking as he stroked his cock under the water. Then slowly, so painfully slowly Kumah pulled the robe open and as she did she also turned so that Mike at last saw both girls' bodies. They were naked. They both had lovely figures and great, yet small, pert tits; tits just like Sammi's, Mike thought as they removed their robes. Slim and firm, slender and taught, dusky and smooth, womanly and curvy, graceful and serene were all terms that flashed through Mike's mind as the two girls dropped their robes. All those terms and "shit they look so fucking horny and they have hardly trimmed" went through his mind as he looked at each girls bush of jet black pubic hair.

Both girls stood by the bath and then, with a svelte elegance, they climbed in and knelt down either side of him holding large sponges in their hands. Slowly, tenderly, carefully and so bloody excitingly they washed him from head to toe. He tried to caress them, but each time his hand got near to a breast or nipple, the girl would shake her head, smile and slither away across the huge bath. They did, though, occasionally touch each other, not in too overtly a sexual way, but in a way that implied that there were lots more to come.

Finished with the washing they again assisted him when they helped him out of the bath. They scurried around him with big, fluffy towels drying him as he stood still feeling a little self-conscious with his massive hard on.

"We go for sex now," Kumah said taking his hand. Simoo took the other and they led him into Emma's bedroom. It smelled of her, Mike thought as he laid on her bed, right in the middle, on his back, his rock hard cock extending right up his flat belly. 

The girls joined him, one either side. It's like fucking paradise he thought, sliding his arms round them and pulling their slim bodies against him. It felt great. It had been ages since he'd had a threesome and he had forgotten just how horny it was to have four tits and two pussies and bums to touch and to have four hands caressing him.

He soon remembered, though, for during the next half hour or so they did pretty much everything sexually that two women and a man can do together.

He kissed one as the other sucked his nipples.

He licked the tits of one girl and stroked the pussy of the other as he alternated between kissing both of them. They had such soft, silky, smooth active lips.

He sucked one pussy as his hands stroked both pairs of tits.

He got his tongue between the cheeks of Simoo's arse as he slid his fingers into Kumah's crack.

He licked all round one girl's clit and pussy as he fingered the other looking up and seeing them kissing.

He pushed Simoo's face toward Kumah's pubes and watched as her legs parted and her friend's head went between them.

He stroked Simoo's bum, sliding his fingers along the crease between her cheeks as she sucked at Kumah's pussy and as he sucked Kumah's tits.

He had his fingers in both pussies as the girls kissed each other and him.

He had Kumah hold his cock for Simoo to suck, Simoo hold it for Kumah to suck, them both hold it for both of them to suck.

And then he fucked Simoo. 

Half way through fucking her he stopped and fucked Kumah; stopped again and shoved his cock back into Simoo and fucked her. He alternated several more times between the two willingly wet cunts until it all got too much for him and he shot his load into the condom covering his cock that was firmly lodged right up Simoo's cunt; or was it Kumah's?

One of them got him a drink, padding barefoot out to the living room naked, her pert bum wobbling enticingly as Mike softened. He drank that and tried chatting, but their English was so poor he soon gave up thinking, who needs to talk when they fuck like that.

They led him back to the bathroom and bathed him again. They knelt to one side of the bath and sponged each other, their slim, nicely manicured fingers now not avoiding breasts and nipples, but seemingly finding them on purpose. They kissed several times before helping him out of the bath again and drying him and themselves. This time, less than twenty minutes after ejaculating, he wasn't rock hard, but he was pleased and quite impressed with himself to feel some stirrings.

They wrapped him in a towel and took him to the lounge and sat him in an armchair. They poured him another drink and sat close together on the carpeted floor a few feet away from him, but clearly in his view. Tenderly, slowly, lovingly really, they then fucked or was it made love to each other for the best part of half an hour.

Mike was very aware that they were whores and knew full well that you can never trust the expressions and sounds whores make; they are experts at simulating orgasms, after all that's part of their job. But these two were different and he would have bet they did actually make each other cum, several times. By the time they had both had their fingers and mouths between the others legs, had sucked the others nipples and had used vibrators on each other, Mike was hard again.

The girls seemed to have a built-in erection identification device for, just as his cock was struggling against the confines of the towel, they pulled him down onto the floor with them.

They laid him flat, they took the towel away. One of them straddled his hips, the other his face. Simoo or Kumah held his cock and slid on a condom before sliding her pussy onto him. Kumah or Simoo eased herself down until her pussy lips were in the right position for him. He sucked her as the other fucked him. 

Just as he was thinking it had been a long time since he had one girl straddle his face and another his hips he heard Emma say.

"Hey can anyone join in, or is this a private party?"



Sexual Diversions Ch. 06



Part 6

Emma joins in with Mike and the Thai girls, but they don't, quite, fuck. 

After Mike's trip to Saudi, somehow, and he had no real idea how or why, things progressed quickly. Contracts were prepared, plans were agreed, meetings took place and, suddenly, it all began to happen. The German and Saudi money came through, the deal was agreed in principle on the building near Windsor, the refurbishments to that were scheduled, recruitment got going and all the operating procedures and systems just seemed to fall into place. To the consternation of the owners of the clinic where he currently worked, Mike had resigned and, despite them offering to almost double his package he had left.

Mike was amazed.

At one moment it all looked to be a disaster and at the next, Claire, who was acting as his personal lawyer, told him that the arrangements were proceeding well for the "closing ceremony" where everything would be signed.

"And there, big boy," she said, slipping her robe off as she came from the bathroom into their bedroom, "I will, at last, meet them all."

"All?" Mike asked looking up from the FT he was reading in bed.

"Yes, your fantasy bit Sammi, Emma, Korlen and the Al Korensis."

"Mmmm yes you will won't you?" Mike replied adding. "Why will Sammi be there?"

"She has to sign a waiver and some other documents about the therapy and role-plays. Can't have you being done for living off immoral earnings can I when she fucks half your patients?"

"Hmmm," was all Mike could say

Claire walked round the end of the bed and sat down at the dressing table. Her full body wobbled with every movement. She was pretty big everywhere, but certainly not gross or in the BBW category; round about a size 14 with something like 36 double d tits a 28 inch waist, hip measurement in the low forties and a nice round, full arse that Mike called cuddly, Korlen called lickable and many others had simply called big. Her height, around five feet nine, enabled her to carry her size off quite well and overall, she came across as being quite sexy, but then women that put out "I'm available" vibes as she did, usually do.

She and Mike had sex. Not fantastic, not mind-blowing or earth shattering, but satisfying and pleasant love-making. That's what their relationship had come to. Pleasant love-making together, and lots of bits on the side. They were both too embarrassed to actually count how many they had, but in the recent past, for both of them the numbers seemed to have increased dramatically.

Not just the numbers, but also, certainly on Claire's part, the relationships as well. Fucking the German financier, Korlen, who was providing some of the funding for Mike, was one thing, after all she introduced them and she had fucked him before he knew Mike. So nothing wrong there. But having what was now becoming a full on affair with Mike's mentor, one time professor, now work colleague and fellow shareholder in the new clinic, Sir Bernard Prestle, was pushing it. She was aware of the dangers, she knew he was married with children and she knew he loved his wife and thought a hell of a lot of Mike, but all that just made the whole scene with him more interesting and stimulating.

It had been the same when she was married. She seemed to have this need to seduce any man that got really close to her partner, somewhat like what was happening with Bernard and Korlen and Mike. She had "given herself" to her ex husband's business partner in the art gallery they had started, she had seduced his best friend and she'd had sex with his brother. What a bitch I am, she often thought, but then conditioned that with, well it takes two to tango? *

Despite Sammi's reservations about the part she would be playing in Mike's use of intereactionary neuroses therapy, she was also becoming excited. She had been on a few training courses, purely the theory so far, and had been relieved from her normal duties so she could assist Emma with the mass of logistics for the opening of the Windsor clinic, which was going to be in less than six weeks time. Sammi had been surprised to hear that Emma was also going to take the full training course; she made a mental to ask her why?

Working closely with Emma was part a joy and part a torment for Sammi. 

She was in total awe of Emma's knowledge about hospital and clinic management, nursing procedures, the hotel aspect and all the other functions making up a modern facility. If she was in awe of that, she had no term to describe her feelings about Emma's organisational skills. Just like her tits, Sammi smiled, they are simply amazing. Emma never panicked, she always seemed to have time for everything, nothing seemed to happen that she hadn't catered for and her planning and prioritisation covered everything.

The torment came from the incredible sexual vibes that the older woman generated towards her. Emma was a clear thinker. Anyone running the number and type of businesses she was, had to be. She did very few things on impulse, everything was thought out, well-planned and organised. And so her desire for Sammi was nothing really to do with emotions, not even really to do with the younger woman's physical attractiveness, as strong as that was, it was all to do with her getting power over her. She knew that if she could fully control the young blonde, mould her and manipulate her, she could well develop Sammi as her successor. 

Not so much in running the businesses, the UK nursing agency that recruited nurses worldwide for employment in Saudi and the rest of the Middle East, the investigation agency and the call girl service in Saudi that she was planning to expand into several other Middle Eastern countries, but more in the liaison, as she termed it, shagging as others called it, with top clients like and for the al Korensis. 

Now that the Sheikh had passed most aspects of the family business, including her, down to his two sons Ahmad and Sunni, Emma knew she was a bit long in the tooth for them and their contemporaries in the region who she was, more and more doing business with. Sure fucking an older woman was fun, for a while and for many twenty and early thirty somethings it was a bit of a turn on, but she knew it would be short lived.

For some time she had been on the look out for a younger woman who she could bring into the very heart of her business dealings. The CV of that woman, though was very restrictive. She had to be stunning looking, she had to be a nurse, she had to be bright, able, very business-minded, money oriented, highly ambitious and, above all else, she had to have, in technical terms, the morals of an alley cat. Sammi to a tee she had thought after she saw the test results during the young blonde's long and thorough recruitment process with La Crème, which Emma had extended when she the test results indicated that Sammi had the right sort of sexual morals, very few.

In Emma's typically manipulative style, she worked out that to control and persuade Sammi in the way she wanted, she had to make Sammi dependant upon her, make her need her, if necessary make Sammi love her, in the way that many secretaries love their boss.

Now she wasn't naive and she knew that if Sammi had the strength of character she would need to take on the job, then she wasn't going to be so schoolgirly mawkish as to have a crying, pleading crush on her. She knew that the attraction she had to create wouldn't be based on typical love, but on admiration, the key emotion she had to tap was not Sammi not being able to be parted from her, but of being in awe of her; it was all about admiration not infatuation!

She knew full well Sammi was bi, she knew that she was active and she knew that soon they would have sex. And that was the second part of the manipulation. Emma guessed that Sammi was a typical London West End, club-going lipstick. Probably dabbled with a few friends without really making a full commitment; not a commitment to a person, but one to having full on lesbian sex. And that was what Emma was going to teach her. How to get a level of sexual excitement from a woman that no man could replicate. 

It was ironic that Emma was thinking along those lines for Sunni and Ahmad had discussed it several times. They acknowledged, as far as any Saudi man could, their indebtedness to Emma. They recognised that she had been a good mistress for their father, although in both his and their eyes, she was really nothing more than a whore and that she had been a good teacher to them in the sexual ways of western women. They also accepted that, but for her and her sexual ministrations, several of the deals where they had made stacks of money just would not have happened. But she was of another generation to them. The power in their country was passing from her age group and upwards to her age group and downwards, so she was being squeezed both ways. 

That said, they still enjoyed sex with her, regularly, just as Abdullah their father had before them. Often whenever either or, both were in the UK, Emma would get a call. It could be to come to their London flat in Belgrave Square, one of their several houses dotted around the country or a suite in a hotel. It could be just Ahmad, it could be just Sunni and it could be both of them sometimes with some friends. Whatever the combination, Emma knew she would be in for a tough time. They were both very demanding, had fantastic recovery powers and amazing stamina, but then guys in their mid to late twenties should have, she thought. She preferred being just with Ahmad, for he was gentler and didn't push her for anal sex, whereas Sunni always demanded that. Whether he was fucking her alone, or whether he was fucking her with Ahmad, or whether he was fucking her with another man or woman they might bring along, or with one of their other women or a girl that Emma supplied, it was her arse he attended to mostly.

Sammi wasn't strongly attracted to women. She never looked at a girl and thought, I'd love to fuck that or wondered what other girls looked like naked. He 'bi-ness' wasn't like that. Sure, she could admire another woman's beauty or figure, but not in a sexual way. That only raised its head when availability and opportunity came into the equation. Dancing with a girl in a club and their bodies touched, seeing a woman who smiles and holds her gaze just that moment too long, having a woman be a bit touchy feely, maybe a sales assistant in a clothes store, that was the sort of thing that could raise her sexual temperature, but then only if that was accompanied by good looks and a nice body. She was picky and choosy.

But her feelings about Emma were different. 

At nights in bed Sammi was prone to thinking about her far more than she had any other woman she had known and been attracted to. Her luscious lips, her rounded, curved body, her gorgeous face, her tanned, lithe legs that Sam had seen that evening she had visited the offices of La Crème and Emma had modelled the new uniform and, of course, her gorgeous full breasts that Sam so envied.

*

Emma and Mike didn't actually fuck that evening when Emma returned to her villa to find Mike lying on the floor with Simoo straddling his face and Kumah his cock: or maybe it was Simoo who was impaled on, what looked to Emma to be, a very respectably sized and completely hard cock. No, they didn't actually fuck, but they did have sex, in a way.

Emma had purposefully got away from Abdullah as quickly as she reasonably could without upsetting him. Her plan was to compromise Mike, to get at him. There was no way she had told herself, that the cocky, arrogant, extraordinarily fanciable, delicious consultant was going to go on refusing her. Fucking liberty she had mouthed several times when he wasn't looking, when he had 'turned her down.'

Sheikh Abdullah al Korensi was a cousin to Prince Bandah who was a brother of the King of Saudi Arabia. The al Korensi family had made a fortune, initially from construction and oil, but latterly from owning, building and running hospitals and clinics, throughout the world. Business was done quite differently in the Middle East to the western world. One way that was the same, however, wherever business is done, is in the use of sex, to oil the wheels of commerce. And that was how Emma had made herself a multi-millionairess. She had fucked her way into a position of power in a country where women did not officially exist in business. Emma did though. 

She existed as Abdullah's mistress having sex with him mostly in London or other European capitals, but also when she visited Saudi in connection with La Crème the nursing agency she ran. She existed as his whore, fucking people he did business with so that he got a competitive advantage. She existed as a madam, supplying girls, mostly Thai, who she imported into the Kingdom under the pretext of them being nurses. And she existed as the sexual educator to his two sons Ahmad and Sunni, who were taking over the family business.

Abdullah, though only in his late sixties, was ill; he suffered from a sort of Crone's disease and had a life expectancy of only a few more years, hence, the need to pass over the reins of the family business as quickly as possible. Though, frail, he still wanted sex. Sure he had several wives, sure he could have hookers galore in Saudi and on the, now infrequent, overseas trips he made and sure he had other mistresses, but there was something special about Emma, and that wasn't just her glorious tits and magnificent arse, both of which he had fucked many times. It was her brain and imagination that so appealed; her brain for business and her imagination for sex.

He had adored the way that she had slowly lifted the figure covering cloak over her head when she had arrived at his town house near the embassies in Riyadh. He didn't live there, but used it for business meetings and sex. His eyes had glinted when he saw the black taffeta nurse's uniform, the white lace round the neckline, the deep cleavage it created, the tightness of the material round Emma's tits, hips and bum. He had stared at the small, white apron that was tied round her waist and covered her to mid thigh. He had taken in the hem of the skirt some six inches above her knee, the stretched material over the perfectly rounded, twin cheeks of her arse, as she twirled for him, and the blackness of the seemed stockings.

"For the clinic in Windsor?" He asked.

"Yes Abdullah."

"Not quite like that though?" He said from the big mattress on the floor that was covered with many multi-coloured cushions.

"No, this is for us, there's will be similar but more demure, of course. I had this made especially for the pleasure of you and of course the family." Emma replied leaning over and kissing him on both cheeks and then the lips.

"Mmm it's lovely," he murmured his eyes boring into her cleavage, his hand slipping up the back of her leg confirming that she was indeed wearing stockings.

Emma ran her fingers affectionately across his cheek and chin as she said softly.

"They of course will wear tights, other than when you visit, when I will have them all wear stockings like these.

"As usual, Emma you think of everything," he said pulling her down so she was kneeling beside him.

"I do try Abdullah, particularly for you and the family."

She had helped him undo the top of the dress, pull that down, take the apron off and roll her skirt up. She had modelled the self-support, holdup, lacy topped, black seemed stockings, the black, lacy thong and the black lace bra. She had turned so he could more easily undo the clasp on her bra and then had turned back so she could peel the clinging, black lace away from her full, luscious tits. He stared at them for a few moments as Emma ran her hands over them.

"You like my tits, Abdullah?" Emma whispered, playing up to what she knew was his weakness as she took hold of his hand and placed it on her left breast.

"Mmmm oh yes Emma, I do."

"My tits, Abdullah are your," she groaned as he stroked them, gently and tenderly; he had in his prime been a great lover. 

Her dress came off, her thong came off, but her stockings stayed on. Very carefully, Emma had slid her hand between them seeking his cock, but she was aware that she shouldn't take too much of an initiative; the al Korensis might be horny bastards and more westernised than most, but they were still Arabs and over the years Emma had learned that they were not keen om women taking too much of the initiative in sex or elsewhere..

Sexual Diversion Part 6

Mike complets his 3some, Emma joins and

She lay back against a pile of cushions. She opened her legs and raised her knees, flashing her cunt that was still bald, at her long-term lover and sponsor. And then Emma wanked herself. And she really did make herself cum. Just as she climaxed, she saw Abdullah rubbing himself and she guessed he was getting hard so she rolled towards him making all of her body available to him. She was offering him her tits, her thighs, her pussy, her bum and her mouth. Each was his if he wanted them, it was his choice, his selection, his preference.

She watched as he slowly pulled his white, silk robe up his body, stifling a smile when she saw he was wearing socks under it, but nothing else. He bunched it round his waist, exposing his semi-hard cock. He smiled at her, put his hand round the back of her head and slowly pulled her face towards him. She was happy with that.

She never did actually get him fully erect; but she knew from previous experiences a complete hard-on wasn't needed for a man to cum. As indeed it wasn't with Abdullah. No, not a full hard-on, but lots of licking, sucking, kissing and stroking, before his body stiffened, his grip on her head tightened and his hips started to move a little as he began to fuck her face. He did well, but then he was with Emma, a master at blow jobs. 

Emma had no compunction at all at taking his cum in her mouth and looking him straight in the eyes as she swallowed it. Over the years she had done that for him many times.

* Mike was in a total quandary. He had already cum once when he had fucked the two Thai girls and was well on the way to his second cumming of the session. Now with Emma here he just didn't know what to do. Simoo and Kumah, though, didn't bat an eyelid. They continued kissing, they continued caressing each others tits, they continued fucking Mike and they continued letting him suck their pussies. They did all of those things because it was expected, it came naturally for they had been carefully briefed, thoroughly trained and they had done it many, many times before.

Emma looked down at him. 

"Good?"

"Yes, wonderful," he replied, feeling a little embarrassed, somewhat awkward and rather defenceless. He knew there was now no way he could resist Emma. It was impossible, he was aroused to such a level, he was fucking one girl and sucking another and now Emma was here. If she seemed irresistible standing over him in her long, flowing robe, if Mike had any chance to fight the need to have sex with her as she stood there looking down on the threesome and if there was just the slightest chance he could comply with his vow when she was asking about joining in and if he was enjoying it, that all suddenly vanished. 

With Mike and the two girls watching her, Emma took hold of the robe. Her white painted, square cut fingernails gripped the thin orangey, red material. Her eyes never left Mike's for a second as slowly she lifted the robe up and up and up. From her ankles, along her calves, over her knees and up her thighs. She exposed the black stockings, the seams at the back, the lacy tops, her slim legs and gorgeous thighs. She lifted it further and further and further. So far, that they could all see she was naked apart from the hold-ups. Not just naked, but totally bald on her mound. "Jesus Emma," he breathed as Kumah, or was it Simoo, stopped sliding themselves up and down his cock.




Sexual Diversions Ch. 06



"Yes Mike?" She replied coyly, lifting the robe over her head, dropping it on the floor and standing there in just her mid height, crocodile skin shoes and long, black holdups.

He didn't reply. There was nothing he could really say. Her naked body was even more awesome than when it was clothed. To his mind it was as near to perfection as a woman's body could be. Flared, very female hips, flat stomach, narrowish waist and absolutely fabulous tits. Full, round and upright with just the hint of a sag that comes from being large and tells the viewer they are all natural, they were capped by quite large areolas and prominent pink nipples, that looked deliciously suckable.

She rolled her breasts together, before turning her attention away from Mike. 

She knelt beside, between the two girls. They immediately kissed her, full on, mouth open, lip squirming, tongue plunging kisses. They both caressed her tits, they kissed them, they sucked her nipples and did all the things to her tits that Mike wanted to do. That was all part of Emma's plan. As was their hands going between her legs, as was her standing and looking him deep in the eyes as Simoo put her arms round Emma, as her fingers dug into the full, soft, roundness of her arse, as she pulled on that lovely, much used arse and as Emma thrust her pelvis outward so that Simoo could suck her cunt; just as Mike yearned to do. It didn't stop there, though, for as Simoo sucked Emma from the front, Kumah leaned forward and buried her mouth and tongue deep into the musky crease between those gloriously rounded orbs of her arse.

And like that, as one hooker, fucked Mike and as he sucked the other so they sucked Emma's pussy and bum just as if it was him doing that.

So, still they hadn't had sex, still Mike could hold his head up that he was keeping that vow, but more and more he was being dragged under her control. And that is exactly what, Emma, Abdullah, Sunni and Ahmad wanted.



Sexual Diversions



The view in the mirror was much better. It was cleaner cut and smoother without the tights. But, there was still the clear outline of the thong. The highest quality Egyptian cotton, whilst wonderful to the touch and great to look at, is thin and becomes almost see through when stretched. The coat had been made to such tight margins that it was stretched in most places, especially across Sammi's small breasts and womanly rounded bum. Two alternatives she thought. A thinner thong or this she pondered, removing the garment, pulling the coat down and again bending forward. The look was fine; no unsightly lumps, seams, or bumps. Smooth as a baby's bottom, she thought smiling. Could she really go to work commando though? Could I spend all day without panties? God it did feel sexy though, she thought as she walked round the small room imagining she was in a consulting room working with a consultant.

It took a week or so for the agency to process everything.

"How are you set for Monday?" Emma asked down the phone the following Friday.

"Great, nothing on at all."

"Mmmmm what a thought, the mind boggles," Emma said.

"No, I didn't mean I was naked, I meant."

"Yes luv, yes I know I was just joking with you."

She gave Sammi the details, said it would be confirmed by e-mail and told her to be there at 7.30 sharp on Monday morning. Just as Sammi disconnected her mobile she heard the ping of the e-mail arriving on her PC. Hmmm pretty damn efficient she thought.

"Hello," Sammi said to the male receptionist at the ultra smart, small hospital in Bedford's Way just off Harley Street. "I am here to see Mister Mike Stevens, it is mister and not doctor isn't it?"

"Please take a seat; I will let his office know you are here, your name please? Yes he's far above being a mere doctor, but I'm never quite sure about these bullshit medical terms," he said flashing a set of amazingly white teeth at Sammi. "What's your name?"

"Sammi, Sammi Cannock, well nurse Cannock I suppose," she replied.

"You have an appointment, I assume?" the dusky skinned, outrageously good looking guy said.

"Yes, I have my agency papers, and was asked to meet him here this morning," 

"Wonderful, my name is Cal, and if you have any questions while you are here, I'm the one to ask," Cal said looking Sammi up and down, rather flirtatiously and, in many ways, probably inappropriately, but nevertheless quite flatteringly. 

As Sammi learned later, this was quite a common occurrence with Cal. He was of Pakistan background and came from a moneyed family. He liked to think, not unjustifiably either, that he looked like Imran Khan, when he was younger of course. He was very lazy and thus disappointed his family considerably by being a receptionist. To him, though, it was fine, for it meant he three days a week he had the afternoon and evening shift, thus enabling him to going clubbing several nights a week from which he met an almost endless stream of young women. They were his total passion in life. He often told his mates and sometimes the women he was trying to conquer and indeed did conquer that he lived to fuck and fucked to live.

"Mister Stevens will be VERY pleased to see YOU" he replied, the emphasis not lost on Sammi, although it did rather surprise her for nothing like this happened in the NHS; they never had cool, dishy, young male receptionists in the hospitals where she had worked in the public sector.

Cal had arranged the chairs in the waiting area so that wherever any of the nurses sat, he would be able to see their legs. Not only was he a real player, but he also was an avid voyeur. His day was made when a girl leaned forward a little too much and he caught a glimpse of her bra. It was equally made when sometimes he would see the top of a uniform, perhaps a blouse, stretched tight across a pair of full tits so that he saw the outline of a hardened nipple. But mostly it was made, as it was being made now by looking at the girls' legs, as he was looking at Sammi's legs, as he was looking up her skirt that had slithered up her thighs as she sat. She had good legs and like all of the nurses from La Crème she was wearing white tights, or stockings. Cal was pondering as he thought how attractive all the girls seemed to be that came from that nursing agency whether Sammi was wearing tights or stockings and was willing the coat to slip up just a few more inches. Crème girls as he called them were always better looking, with nicer figures and a sexier appearance than most of the nurses and technicians from other agencies; not once had he seen a dumpy, ugly or plain La Crème nurse and he often wondered why.

The door beside Cal opened and out strode a tall man who Sammi assumed was the consultant. He was dressed in an immaculate lightweight, navy pin-stripe suit and a pink shirt with gold cufflinks and a silk, blue and pink tie, striped tie. He was gorgeous and relaxed yet so sophisticated.

Cal stood up and walked over to him. Sammi was surprised at how familiar he was.

"Hi Mike, this is Sammi. Nurse Cannock, this is Mister Stevens our consultant psychiatrist on sexual dysfunctionality."

Part 2.

Sammi's first day treating sexually fucked up patients and getting fucked on the side.

"Hi, nice to meet you", he said in a pleasant, nicely modulated voice that had a posh tone to it, but not offensively so like, for instance, Prince Charles. He held his hand out.

"Oh hi, yes thanks, yes thank you, nice to meet you too," Sammi bumbled back, rather hurriedly and a little breathlessly. She was always a little shy when meeting people for the first time, particularly men, particularly attractive men, particularly older men and particularly doctors and consultants. And Mike Stevens was all of those. And on top of that his piercing blue eyes seemed to simply bore into hers as the soft, smooth skin of his hand shook hers.

Standing up, holding her fashionably large handbag, briefcase and introduction folder and putting down her cup of coffee and The Independent newspaper, Sammi was flustered and dropped the paper. It hit the table and knocked over the cup that Sammi bent down to try to catch.

"Oh God, I'm sorry," she stammered as the coffee drained across the glass table soaking into the other newspapers. Cal rushed over with paper towels. Mopping the coffee up he was rewarded with a great view down the front of the tight, white coat that was the hallmark of nurses from La Crème. It made his day.

"Fuck me, she's got smashing tits and a lovely white lace bra," he said to himself looking up at Mister Stevens and smiling for he saw that he too had seen exactly what Cal had. They smiled at each other and raised their eyebrow appreciatively.

"Don't worry Sammi," Cal said.

"Thanks a lot Cal, I really am sorry to put you to such bother."

"No problem, you can repay me later," he grinned running his gaze very obviously up and down the blonde nurse's body. "Any way you like actually."

Sammi couldn't help smiling at the kid's, as she thought of him for she rarely dated anyone under thirty, bottle, but didn't respond for Mister Stevens had moved round the table and was standing right next to her and Cal.

They both looked at her. She stared back from one to the other not knowing what to do or think. She bent down again to collect her stuff that she had dropped onto the chair when she spilt the coffee. She could feel the boy's and the man's eyes on her. The boy's down her top, the man's at her bottom. The boy's on her tits, the man's on her arse. The boy's seeing her new white M & S bra, the man seeing the outline of her ultra thin, newly bought, Lejaby thong. 

Although it was probably only for seconds, it seemed an age that she was being inspected, almost roasted, she thought. It made her feel on edge. She couldn't understand why, but it also aroused her. It made her warm, well hot really, she knew she would be blushing; she always did when she was turned on. Lurid thoughts, for some reason were shooting through her mind at an incredibly fast pace.

Her coat was off.

She wasn't wearing a bra or a thong under it, just white hold-ups.

Mike was behind her, Cal in front. She was leaning back against the Doctor. Cal was playing with her tits as if adjusting the dials on a radio. She smiled, acknowledging his enthusiasm, but relishing his loveliness as she gazed at his dusky, naked body and huge, stiff cock that he had pressed into her hand.

She wiggled her bum and the older man pressed forward so that her back rubbed against his chest. That was nice. It was nicer though when his equally hard and probably just as long, but less thick cock nestled between the cheeks of her bum.

"I'm so glad you have turned up, we have a lot to get through today, our last nurse let us down badly, that's why we switched agencies, come in let's have a quick chat." The doctor said pulling Sammi back from her reveries.

As Cal tidied up the table and Sammi followed the doctor, she had a quick glance down at her chest. She felt tremendous relief when there were no lumps or signs of her nipples hardening. That was something that embarrassed her so often that she had given half-serious thought to getting advice as to why hers were seemingly so much more sensitive and reactive than other girls. Luckily, they were behaving themselves today she thought.

She followed him into a sumptuous office, if you could call it that for it was more like a suite. In front of a nearly floor to ceiling, large bay window sat a huge, glass topped desk with brushed aluminium legs behind which was black leather, high backed chair. In front of the desk were two less ostentatious, but nevertheless black leather, expensive and comfortable looking chairs.

Off to one side there were two black leather settees facing each other across a glass coffee table, and to the other side a screen that only partially hid a couch with a chair behind it. On the cursory glance she was able to give as she walked across the room, Sammi was surprised to count four PCs, scattered around the room. The walls were bedecked with modern paintings and there were some tasteful sculptures on tables and plinths. The overall style was modern minimalist. Everything was in browns, golds and charcoals and the look was expensive, leading edge and high tech, yet relaxing and comfortable. It had obviously been set up both for business meetings and as a consulting room; Sammi had never seen anywhere like it

"Take a seat Sammi," he said pointing to one of the chairs in front of the desk. "I'm sorry about Cal, he can such be such a loud mouthed prick at times," the eminent psychiatrist said not the slightest bit embarrassed by using such a word in front of a young woman he was meeting for the first time.

Mike chose to perch himself on the edge of the desk in front of Sammi, rather than taking the more formal seat behind it. Surveying the young blonde in front of him, he was impressed. She looked every bit as good as La Crème had promised. He was pleased he had changed agencies. Emma, the agency owner was clearly as professional as she was persuasive. Although he had met her several times in connection with a new business venture in which he was involved, he hadn't used her agency until now, but he had heard good things about it. They had, so they claimed and the references he had taken up on the phone, confirmed, a unique approach to nurse sourcing, as they termed it. An approach Emma had described, as she sat exactly where Sammi was, that was in keeping with today's sophisticated and assuring top of the range health care industry, one that dispensed with the badly dressed, poorly presented, traditional nurse. One that provided the brightest, the most sophisticated, the most attractive and, simply the best Consultants' Assistants in the country. 

Mike remembered very clearly how Emma, leaning forward and reaching her hand out to shake his, when he confirmed that he would use La Crème for his vacancy, displayed her deep cleavage and a goodly proportion of her nicely, full breasts had breathed. "I promise you won't be disappointed in me Mike."

And so far he wasn't. Sammi was gorgeous, her qualifications and references were outstanding, she looked polished, although perhaps a little clumsy, she was clearly stylish, educated, erudite and keen to do well and she had one of the nicest arses he had seen for ages

The nurse's dress had a lot of style, although Mike was slightly concerned on, how could he describe it, how modernly revealing it was. It showed Sammi's curves off to perfection, and Mike could see that she was not wearing a lot underneath. Probably just the minimum, he thought, his mind wandering back to the outline of the tiny thong and the stocking tops he had seen when she had bent over in the reception area. He wondered if all the 'Consultants Assistants' looked like Sammi and dressed as she did, concluding that they must and that they had to be coached by La Crème to do that. He wondered how Emma did that and would loved to have been at one of the coaching sessions

Years of examining young women, well any aged women really, had given Mike the skill to read a woman's curves. He was pretty sure that Sammi was wearing expensive, ultra thin lingerie that was designed to "vanish" to give the appearance of the wearer being naked under their outer garments. As his gaze swept discretely, but not so much that the younger woman didn't notice it, over her body, he concluded that the lingerie had achieved its objective. 

Perched on the desk, one foot on the ground, the other off the floor, his legs open, Mike looked at Sammi. In his mind the coat had gone and indeed she was naked under it for he could see her pert, 33b, he guessed boobs, her flat tummy and the merest whisps of tawny pubic hair on her prominent pubic mound. He felt that slight itchiness in his balls that was the forerunner and the clear indication of an impending erection.

"Sammi, I very much appreciate you being on time, our first patient is at 9am so we have a little time for me to introduce you to our clinic" Mike continued. "In front of patients please call me Doctor, although I'm quite happy for you to call me Mike after hours, and I'll do likewise, nurse, if that's ok, Sammi?". 

Mike looked down and smiled. Sammi looked a little nervous but then that was to be expected on her first day.

"Yes of course Doctor." The nurse replied, but then with an impish grin added, "And Mike."

"You know that I am a psychiatrist dealing with people that are troubled with neuroses that are often very deep rooted."

"Yes I do doctor and I specialised in psychiatry in my final year preferring that to obstetrics; I got a distinction."

"Hmmm, right, good, that's great," Mike flustered, his mind more drawn to her distinctive tits than exam attainments. 

"I am of the Freud school rather than Jung, if that means much to you."

"So you are more into psychoanalysis and delving deep into their backgrounds?"

"Yes, good, that's correct."

"And you believe that many, or even most neuroses are based on sexual difficulties."

"I see why you got a distinction, well done, that's precisely the way I practice. I need you to understand that Sammi, for you will be in the treatment room with me with every patient and you will hear some pretty lurid stuff from both men and women."

"I'm sure that won't be a problem."

"I do have to warn you though, that under some drugs that we need to administer to free up some peoples' minds, they do get rather excitable and imaginative and I must tell you that is why I need to have an attractive nurse."

"I don't understand."

"No I guess you don't, sorry. Let me be blunt, ok?"

Sammi had no idea what was coming next, but the more time she spent with him, despite the topic being rather intimate the more relaxed she felt. That, though, was quite the opposite with Mike. The longer he was perched there, his leg dangling, his cock hardening, the more bizarre became his thoughts about his stunning young nurse. 

In simple terms, he fancied her like hell and wanted to fuck her. To fuck her right here and now. And that was so unlike him. Although he was as virile and up for sex as most men, well actually more than most if he were honest, which he wasn't very often as far as sex was concerned, he had always been able to restrict those feelings and those sort of activities, to outside his work. He'd never had any sort of relationship with a business colleague and, although he had been unfaithful to Claire, his long-term lawyer partner, many time, as indeed she had to him, he had restricted that to women outside his work environment; just about.

"Some of them under the influence of the drugs may well have thoughts about you."

"How do you mean?"

"Well they might imagine that you are their partner now or in the past and, of course, they might well fancy you and talk in that vein when under sedation."

Sammi looked into his eyes and felt a little jerk. Well two actually that rapidly became more. The first was in her chest, she avoided acknowledging heart, the second was in her pussy and from there it rapidly spread through her breasts and body. Then she did know that her nipples were, as usual, reacting. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she thought, hunching her chest a bit hoping to avoid them showing.

"I'm sure we'll cope Doctor."

By now Sammi was starting to feel relaxed and was appraising Mike in a bit more detail. He was handsome,looked pretty fit for his age, which she put in his mid, even maybe late, forties, had lovely blue eyes that seemed to look inside her and beautiful hands. Sammi couldn't recall noting a man's hands before, but they were well proportioned, elegant, strong and well manicured. It didn't help those jerks, the warmth rushing through her body or the hardening of her nipples when she imagined those beautiful hands on her pert breasts or rounded arse.

He was dressed well, and his accoutrements were all of the highest quality. The suit, shirt and shoes were all expensive, maybe bespoke, and his aftershave smelled, sexy and exclusive and screamed, "I'm pricey!" Overall, he gave off an air of assured and relaxed confidence, success and maturity. What he didn't know was that Sammi had a thing about older guys, and she had noted the lack of a wedding ring.

'Hmmm, maybe he's not attached' thought Sammi. Her thoughts beginning to wander but were drawn back by Mike's continuation.

"We run a clinic for people who are, in one way or another, dysfunctional, or at least they feel they are or could be. They have difficulty coping with the real world and many live in a fantasy one," he was saying, but thinking. "Yes a fantasy one where a forty-seven year old doctor can rip the clothes off his twenty-four year old nurse and fuck her across his desk, between patients, or with them looking on come to that.

With a struggle he went on. 

"But we also help people discover ways of coping and adjusting, we give them techniques that they can then take back into their relationships." He paused before, almost, but not quite adding, "Such as I would like to take you into my relationship and fuck you as you suck Claire's big tits."

Sammi saw and heard Mike seeming to struggle to form his words and wondered just what was going on in his head. She had tried to avoid looking at his crutch, but as it was only a few feet from her face, was level with her mouth and it did seem to be staring right at her, that was impossible. 

"Was that really his erection developing?" She asked herself, several times.

"Most of our patients are women aged between 35 and fifty, although we do also take men, but they generally seem to be more reluctant to discuss such personal matters. As I said many, and I am afraid to say, especially my female patients can be rather dramatic and overact, so I need you in addition to your assistant duties to act as a chaperone."




Sexual Diversions



"Really?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"Why?"

"Well practically every consultant psychiatrist regularly gets accused of unprofessional conduct." Mike paused before adding. "With women, I'm sure you understand, Sammi."

"Oh I see," Sammi replied, half hoping that he would get up to some unprofessional conduct with her.

"I will apprise you of each case before we start and any history there is of making such allegations, you see many of these ultra rich women have been under treatment by other psychiatrists for years."

"Right," Sammi offered, not knowing quite what right meant in the context she had just used it.

"Let me just explain how I like to work. OK?"

"Of course."

"Each morning we will have a meeting and review the day's cases, perhaps over coffee and a croissant, or whatever, we have full kitchen facilities here. And by the way you can have whatever meals you want, a perk of the job, I often eat dinner here and if you wish you can join me for I like to run through the day before we finish. Is that ok?"

"Yes of course it is."

Mike smiled at her, making her knees feel wobbly and her tits go hot. 

"Emma did advise you of the hours didn't she?"

"She said they would usually be long."

"They will be, most days twelve hours, eight to eight, but only four days usually."

"That's ok I don't live far from here. I could almost walk it."

"Well if you are into power-walking or running you can always shower here," he said pointing to a door in one wall. 

"I'll bear that in mind," Sammi said, thinking that she might just do that and "inadvertently" forget to lock the door.

"So that's about it for now, ready to start?" he asked, easing himself up from the desk and standing over Sammi.

"Why, of course Doctor, I'm looking forward to getting started," she replied, also standing and affording Mike another great view of her tits down the front of the tunic, which gaped as she leaned forward. "Who is our first patient?" She asked, aware of what she was flashing and that he was looking.

*

"Her name is Ms Eleanor Richards, but she prefers to be known as Ellie, at least to me but she may prefer you to address her as Ms or Missus Richards, we'll see. This is her third session and in the first one we covered her sexual history. It's all contained here in her files, and I would like you to familiarise yourself with them before she arrives at nine, Mike said, handing Sammi the file. Sammi took her leave, grabbed a coffee from the impressive looking Italian Espresso machine and found a comfortable chair in the nurse's staff room and began to read.

She read that Ellie was 39 and married to a stockbroker, 'hence how she can afford an expensive clinic like this" Sammi thought. She had no children and seemingly wasn't interested but she was concerned at her waning sex life. She had begun socialising with a new crowd recently and a couple of the women had opened her eyes to a sexual world that was entirely new to her, a world that involved 'free' relationships, illicit affairs, bisexual behaviour and even group sex. Not wishing to seem a prude, Ellie had gone along with the chat with these women, feigning privacy when she was asked to contribute her own lurid tales.

But it seemed that the coffee mornings were having an effect on Ellie. Since she wasn't blessed with a husband with a high sex drive and that she had married as a virgin, she was finding out that she really had missed out on the sexual front. After confiding in a close friend she had been referred to Doctor Stevens and had nervously approached her first session.

Before Sammi could read on, Cal poked his head into the room, "Can I get you anything Sugar?" 

Sugar, thought Sammi, bloody cheek.

"No thanks, Cal, I'm fine" she said, smiling back at him, quite enjoying his easy flirting way. He lingered for a moment taking in Sammi's crossed legs where he swore he could see the top of a stocking. 

'God, I could do a lot for that girl' he thought, and left the room with an image of himself on his knees in front of Sammi, as he massaged her feet and heels before bringing his hands higher up under her dress to discover if she really was wearing stockings.

Strangely, Sammi was having similar thoughts, imagining Call naked at her feet, while she remained dressed, as he worked his hands and athletic body up her legs toward her dripping pussy. She imagined this happening as Mike appeared at the door, pausing momentarily to slip into the room and watching as the scene unfolded before him.

And imagination, she read, was the issue for Ellie Richards. Not the lack of it, but how to control it, since she was finding herself day dreaming of all manner of wild sexual experiences, and this had led her to becoming aroused at the slightest suggestion of sex. She had started looking at other men, and, shockingly to her, other women too. Her weekly visit to the tennis club had her almost foaming at the mouth to get her hands lips and pussy around the bare naked and tanned limbs and torsos of, particularly the young tennis players. She had feigned an injury just so that she could get out of her doubles match. She and her partner Thierri had been losing badly, but she just couldn't keep her eyes off Thierry's hot butt as he moved about the court. All she could think about was having her legs wrapped around his waist and her hands grabbing the cute butt as he thrust his long hard cock into her. If that wasn't bad enough, she was faced over the net by Thierry's gorgeous, blonde girlfriend, and her tennis coach, Phil, an older but very sexy hunk. She was imagining all four of them in bed together, and after the first set was feeling very weak at the knees and if nothing else had to get off the court to change her sopping wet pants.

The detail of the report had engaged Sammi's attention in a way like no other, and she was beginning to conjure up similar images, and finding herself getting quite flushed, imagining this approaching middle aged, respectable woman, becoming a limp rag of desire. She was looking forward to observing how Mike handled the situation. 

At that moment, Cal appeared at the door and told her that she was needed in Mister Steven's office. As she went through the door that Cal held open for her, he used it as an excuse to squeeze up 

against the nurse as she brushed passed. This didn't go unnoticed by Sammi who chose that moment to brush her hip over the front of Cal's bulging chinos. Cal was already hard, but then he seemed to spend most of the day like it, and returned to his desk thinking how good Sammi would look bent over it, 

Sammi knocked on the consulting room door and entered. She wasn't prepared for what greeted her for Mike was embracing Ms Richards. As she walked in they released each other. She felt she had interrupted something but wasn't sure, at least until she glanced at the front of the psychiatrist's stylishly, quite tight suit trousers and saw an impressive bulge. 

"Bloody hell" she thought, "It's barely nine in the morning and already I have had wild thoughts about two work colleagues, got a soaking wet gusset from reading a case history and am in a room with a consultant and a possible nymphomaniac, what will I be like by the end of the day?

"Ms Richards, please meet Nurse Cannock, Sammi, our newest recruit, and a specialist in the 

sort of behavioural issues we will be exploring." Mike continued. "Sammi will be with us for the session and will be helping me understand a bit more about the sorts of fantasies you are having, and how we might explore and control them, but still retain the pleasure, and of course, your marriage" Mike said smiling.

Sammi and Ellie were looking at each other. It was almost as if they were rivals and were sizing each other up, which maybe in some ways they were. Ellie, at nearly forty, could have passed easily for thirty five and, at a push, for thirty. She was slim and tanned; her hair being dyed in the fashionable nearly ginger colour, her skin the equally fashionable, though rather absurd, nearly orange tone. Her hair was cut in a bob, her neck being shaved, a long wave almost permanently it seemed falling over her forehead. She walked like a cat, gently and with the swaying hips that comes with someone who is sexually confident. 

Shaking himself from his thoughts "Shall we begin?"

"Why yes Doctor, where do you want me"

*

Sammi's mind was reeling. But then it had been ever since the initial interview with Emma at La Crème. Everything about this new world of upscale healthcare that she had moved into surprised and confused her. That so far, it also excited and, she had to admit, aroused her, just made her mind reel even more.

Emma's rather blatant come on at the interview had started it. She had clearly indicated to Sammi that more than a job interview was on offer, if Sammi wished. Had it not been an assessment Sammi might well have accepted that offer. Her concern at getting the job outweighed her sexual temptations, however, so she had most definitely tempered her obvious response to the older woman; her less obvious ones, nevertheless roared away unseen.

The outfit was the next element in her reeling. It was so overtly erotic that looking at herself in the mirror almost made her cum and had twice coaxed her into masturbating. Cal, his reaction to her, the opulence of the clinic, and the sophisticated sexual approach of the attractive doctor all made her mind reel more and more and more. 

Seeing Mike and the first patient embracing, Ellie Richard's easy approach, her beauty and earthy sexiness all confused, worried, surprised and amazed the young blonde nurse.

Mike Stevens was one of the most successful emotional and sexual neuroses treatment psychiatrists in London. Well he thought he was. His employers at the clinic knew he was, but would not acknowledge that to him. They insisted that he needed more experience and used this as a reason to restrict his salary that they had pegged at a very respectable, but nevertheless, well under top consultant market rate, of £200,000 per annum.

They also insisted that he broaden his scope of work and thus required him to treat patients with all manner of psychiatric problems and not just those that especially interested him. That was why, unbeknown to his employers, he was doing two things.

Seeing patients that they knew nothing about, such as Elizabeth Richards, and establishing his own clinic that would specialise in sexually dysfunctional men and women. He had already bought a fairly isolated house in the country near Windsor that was currently being refurbished and turned into a residential clinic of the highest order and luxury. But then the clients, for whom he had just started advertising, would expect nothing less than that for they would be paying around a £1000 a day just to be in the clinic plus the enormous fees Mike and his hand picked staff were planning to charge for the treatment. 

With the projections that he and his financial backers, a group of Middle Eastern and German entrepreneurs, were showing of a million pounds profit in year two, Mike could smile wryly at his paltry monthly pay cheque from his current employers.

It was through the Saudi Arabian financial backers, who he had been introduced to by a US investment bank, that he had met Emma. The group owned a number of hospitals, clinics and other medical facilities in the Mid East, the UK and the US and used Emma as a consultant for the provision of nurses throughout their empire. That introduction had led to Emma fonding Sammi and placing her with Mike's current clinic on a six month contract.

If Sammi's mind had been reeling before the surgery began, the first patient and her reaction to the nurse positively made it boggle.

Missus Richards was very attractive. She had big, starey eyes, which to Sammi's trained mind hinted at a touch of a thyroid problem, but which also meant they seemed to be mentally undressing her. She had gleaming, probably veneered teeth, and a dazzling smile that she beamed at Sammi. When they shook hands, she held her hand just that tad too long. Just that length of time that said more than hello and just that few moments that some might not notice, but to those with experience of other women recognised as a sign. And Sammi recognised that sign as most twenty something, good looking blondes would.

"Right let's begin" Mike said breezily, looking even sexier Sammi thought in his white doctor's jacket.

The hour long session was taken up by the patient lying on the couch with an eye mask on, answering questions posed from Mike, as Sammi took notes, although everything was being recorded. They were questions that gradually took Ellie further and further back in her life. Sammi knew from her studying that this was the classic psychoanalysis technique pioneered by Freud. It was intended to free the patient from all the conditioning and social PR that jaundiced their real and deepest feelings desires and emotions. By so doing, they would be taken back to what it was in the earlier life that was causing their current problems. To get back to that root, though was a complicated process and required the patient talking about many of her later sexual experiences, it was a little bit like peeling an emotional onion!

Sammi's job was to make notes, to act as a chaperone and to administer the light, mind freeing drugs that psychiatrists sometimes used. As it happened none were used in the first consultation. But then that wasn't surprising for Mrs Richards spoke so easily.

Hardly had she lain on the electrically operated couch that Mike lowered and then lifted up nearly to his waist level, than she started and really never stopped. She was wearing what Sammi knew was an enormously expensive light beige summer suit, the skirt of which rode some six inches or so above her knees showing her slender, tanned thighs and just a slither of the lace of a petticoat, something g Sammi hadn't seen since she lived at home and saw her mum in one years ago. Lying down the top gaped a bit so Mike, particularly, but also the nurse, could see the swell of her pert, firm breasts.

It transpired that in previous session Mike had taken Ellie back to her early twenties when she was about to be married. She was a virgin. She had led a very protected life, having a dominating, severe, fun hating father and not being allowed hardly any freedom until she was engaged to the solid, respectable, rich, well-connected and absolutely fucking boring ex public schoolboy, stockbroker. 

She explained how her wedding night was near rape, but as her husband was so drunk he had no recall of that so the second night he did rape her. She went on to relate how it was only a few weeks into the marriage when he started staying out later and later and only a few months after that when she found out that he was bi and that he had a number of boy friends, who, he informed her, he had absolutely no intention of giving up.

"Take it or leave," had been his clear message.

The rest of Sammi's day passed quickly. They saw a couple more "private" patients with similar deep-rooted problems as Missus Richards, but most of those others were not concerned with sexual behaviour, although the reason for their problems often did, as Mike showed quite clearly with his clever, probing but gentle questioning.

The patient roster completed Sammi completed her notes in the nurse's room and returned to Mike's office to file them.

"Let's just run through them please Sammi."

"Why?" She replied a little annoyed that it seemed he didn't trust her

"Well I like to make sure they cover everything and that they are in the form I like them."

"Ok" she said standing in front of his desk and placing the folders in front of him.

"Let's sit over there and run through them together," he said pointing to the seating area with the two sofas.

Sammi sat on the low seated sofa where he had pointed. Mike sat beside her, their knees almost touching. He had removed his jacket, loosened his tie and undone the top button on his pale blue shirt. He looked good a little rumpled and more casual.

"The day is done, the patients have all gone, most of the staff, even lippy Cal have buggered off, so how about we have a drink to relax." Mike suggested.

"Thanks, yes, that would be nice," Sammi replied, quite amazed that such a thing would happen in a hospital.

"White wine or beer?" He asked opening a fridge. "I'm afraid we aren't very well stocked, perhaps a chore I could persuade you to look after," he went on staring deep into her eyes and taking the opportunity to ogle her legs where the hem of the tunic had zoomed up as she sat down.

"That's ok doctor, white wine please."

"Mike please, we're almost off duty now and there are no patients about," he said smiling. 

"Ok, er Mike," Sammi replied, feeling pleased with the informality.

He sat next to her. He picked up the notes and they both looked at them. For half and hour or so, during which time he topped up their glasses, they went through the notes. He only had a few comments to make by way of changes. 

They really were well done, he acknowledged. Brains and beauty, he said to himself his knee touching his young nurse.

"Well Sammi," he said leaning back and spreading his arms along the back of the sofa. "That really is excellent, there'll be no need for me to check them in future, you really have picked things up awfully well."

Sammi was pleased with the praise; it made her feel good to have him compliment her. The feel on her knee had also made her feel good and she was disappointed when he had moved away, as he clearly had to.

Though he had a long-term partner, Mike was a great appreciator of beauty and sex appeal in other women. He simply revelled in looking at them and chatting to them, but recently he had not been seriously unfaithful and had always vowed never to mix business with pleasure; don't crap on your own doorstep or dip your pen in company ink were sentiments he agreed with.

He was often slightly attracted to younger women, either at work or in other social situations, but other than perhaps a dance or a few quick kisses he didn't follow them up. He often wondered whether that was due to self-control or the attraction not being strong enough.

As he sat alongside his new nurse, their hips touching, his arm along the back of the sofa just inches from her golden, blonde hair that she had tied up onto a tight bob and which he was dying to unravel, he was staring at her. At the clear outline of her bra strap through the thin tunic, at the length of her white, nylon covered legs poking out from the hem of the coat, at the flatness of her stomach and the swell of her breasts. It was all he could do to stop himself putting his hand onto her shoulder. He knew then that if it was the attraction not being enough that was reason he hadn't gone further with other women. That would most certainly not be the situation with his dangerous new assistant, he smiled.

*

Sammi was not particularly promiscuous, but like many of her generation she did not see sex as being something that should be restricted or reserved for 'the man in your life.' Her view was that it was something to be enjoyed. She'd had quite a few partners with the relationships varying in length from a few hours with the two or three one night, or in one instance in Spain afternoon, stands, to, when she was at nursing college after uni, a year long near engagement situation. At present she was not on the look out for a potential husband, she had all her life ahead of her for that. She took life pretty much as it came at her and sex was included in that. If she was with a guy, they fancied each other and the opportunity and location were on, she was generally up for it and thus, they generally fucked.