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Tease On

By: Dyrtytailz



  Hi again, it's me Jessica. I can't believe what I am going through. If you already know me, then you know that I'm five feet tall, with a nice ass, and c-cups. Sorry if the description is a little short, but this is the sixth time. Please read 'A Teaser 1-4' and 'Still Teasing'

 My husband and I got home that night and had sex on the living room rug. Afterwards as we lay naked and tired neither of us sure enough of ourselves to head for the bathroom, James-my husband's boss called AGAIN. As the phone rang a tremble of fear coursed through me.

 "Hello..." I said, all I could hear was my husband breathing softly in the dark living room.

 "Hello again Jessica." James said. "I'm sorry to trouble you again. There's a charger and spare battery for the phone in the glove box of your car. Are you still naked?"

 "Yes, and thankyou for the charger." I said quietly.

 "Why don't you head out to the driveway and grab it." James said. "Is your husband with you?" James asked.

 "Yes." I said feeling strange and oddly out of myself.

 "tell him you have to run out to the car for something." James said.

 "Honey, I have to run out to the car for something." I said.

 "Alright." Rob said groggily. I think he had been half dozing in the afterglow.

 I rolled onto my belly and began getting to a standing position. Rob and I had had sex twice and there was a good amount of cum inside me. As I gained my feet I covered myself with my free hand to keep it from dripping on the carpet.

 "Where are you?" James asked as I stepped over my discarded jacket and opened the front door.

"I'm at the door now." I said.

"Good. Walk slowly." James said. As I made my way across our porch and to our drive-way James spoke to me in his soothing voice. the air was VERY cold and I felt tingly and numb with my bare flesh exposed to it.

 "Jessica, I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes away from Rob. I'm very excited about how tonight went. You are such a marvelously beautiful woman. Rob is a lucky man. You were also terrific tonight, both at the party and in the car. Your adventures are just beginning. You are so very brave." James said. 

 I was at the car and let go of my vagina to open it. There was a smear of goop on my fingers. I opened the car and bent over reaching into the glove box, this sent a large blob of cum out of me and down the back of my legs, when I stood up again I could feel it wet between my buttcheeks. 

 "Don't go back in the house just yet." James continued. "New Year's Eve is going to come up quickly and I probably will only be able to talk with you once or twice more. When you do come for the party, I want you to dress conservatively. Something loose and comfortable, maybe a flowing mid-length dress in a dark color, wear a bra, and this time wear panties you naughty girl, either a thong or G-string, maybe see-thru. At any rate I'll let you go now, there are two batteries so you can ALWAYS have the phone on, use it as you see fit, but always answer when I call." James then hung up.

 I stood beside our car naked and just beginning to shiver slightly. New years was only a few weeks away. When I made my way back into the house, my husband was cleaning up in the bathroom. I joined him, and told him how I would be dressing for the New Year's party. We then went to bed, both thoroughly exhausted.

 The time before New Year's Eve passed in a blur. There was Christmas shopping to do, then the holidays. James called twice, once while I was at work. During that call he had made me go into the bathroom and remove my panties, which I did. He also told me to go out and buy a new outfit for New Years, and to make sure that it was loose enough to lift easily. Which I did the following day.

 The second time that he called was Christmas Eve. We had some long time friends over. Another couple, a guy my husband had known since high school, and two of my girlfriends from college. When the phone rang my heart sank a little, but I was still excited.

 "Hello." I said as I headed into another room.

 "Hello, Jessica." James said. "Do you have company?"

 "Yes, we have some old friends over." I answered.

 "Excellent." James said. "What are you wearing? Please be thorough in your description."

 "Give me a moment, I'm almost to our bedroom." I asked.

 "Please hurry." James said.

 "I'm wearing a pair of black slacks, over red thong panties, and a gray and maroon sweater over a white turtle neck." I answered as I got to our room.

 "Are you wearing a bra?" James asked.

 "Yes." I answered.

 "Very good." James said. "Here's what I want. Remove the bra and panties." James said. I immediately began removing my pants to comply. James waited patiently as I readied for his next command. "Before you put your slacks back on, roll your panties up and insert them into your vagina." James finally added, as I tugged the bra out from under my sweater. "I don't care how long it takes." James said.

 I lay back on our bed and began fingering myself to work up some moisture. After several minutes I began pushing the satin panties into me.

 "If they hang out a little it's alright. when the night is over and you take them out, put them on." James said. Finally the panties were inside me except for a little corner and I stood to put my pants back on. they felt like a knot inside me and were very uncomfortable.

 "They're in." I said.

 "Good, Go back downstairs, without washing your hands, and apologize for taking too long. Then tell everyone that you must've had too much salt or something because your bra was cutting off your circulation. See you New Years" James said, and hung up. I looked in the mirror, my breasts hung the slightest bit lower and further apart, and even through the sweater and turtle neck my nipples were easy to pick out. 'Merry Christmas' I thought buttoning my pants and heading for the door.

 I gave my speech as I entered. My husband looked oddly upset, and disappointed at the same time. None of our guests really gave it much attention, although my husband's friend took a few sideways glances at my breasts as they swayed heavily free under my sweater. The panties felt like an uncomfortable rock inside me. Other than that the night was uneventful, but a little humiliating.  I felt so conscious of my breasts, and the way that I was sitting, and my nipples. The result was at the end of the night when I finally pulled the panties out they were soggy and I was sore. The look on my husbands face as I pulled the damp material on was a little sad. He looked like a man loosing control, but still enjoying what he saw.

Finally New years Eve rolled around. James had sent a note saying to arrive at seven PM. That left five hours before the ball even dropped. My stomach fluttered as I pulled on my clothes. I wore see thru red mesh panties, I then slipped on my push-up half cup bra, it matched the panties. The dress I had bought was black with straps just wide enough to hide my bra straps coming down to a neckline that showed only a tiny hint of cleavage. It was fairly fitted around the midsection to my abdomen and then as instructed the material got lighter and there was a lot more, it flowed ballooning out and stopped just above my knee. My shoes were plack with low narrow heels and a sexy little ankle strap.

 I slipped on my jacket and we headed to the car. On the ride we were both silent. I looked at my husband a lot thinking of what we were driving into. He was willingly driving his wife to a house where anything could happen. A house where she wore what the host wanted and when. This host was his boss, a man my husband had to see every day at work. I felt a little bad, but there was no way that I was backing out of this.   

 We pulled up out front and a valet came out to take our car. James arrived at the door before we did and graciously took our coats. The main hall had a few men milling around, I looked ahead to the kitchen and off to the living room hoping to see more women. I finally spotted one, then another, but mostly there were men. Now I was a little nervous, and sopping wet. James returned, with a hot little blonde on his arm. She wore a short white dress, with no back, no bra, and a neckline that showed half of each breast. If she was twenty years old, I would have been surprised.

 "Jessica, this is Bria." James said. "She's my date for the evening. You, however are my entertainment." He said. "Lovely dress. Hello Rob." Rob nodded. "I can see by your face that this might be difficult for you." James said looking at my husband. "Bria, why don't you show Rob around the house, take about a half hour, keep him out of here while Jessica gets settled." James said releasing the girl's hand. Bria smiled at James and took him by the hand leading him out through the kitchen towards the other half of the first floor. James extended his hand, which I took and led me into the living room, where I was given a drink. All eyes began to turn to me. Finally James stopped in about the middle of the room.

 "This is Jessica Everyone." James said holding my arm up. He then led me to the far wall and told me to face the wall and place both hands on it above my head. He took my drink while I did. "Now spread your legs apart." He instructed. I did. I could feel the eyes on me, I was fully covered, but felt so exposed standing with my back to a room full of men.

 "She was instructed to wear a thong or G-string, last time she came here she didn't wear panties, so I think we had better check." James said to the men. I stood helpless and compliant as James lifted the back of my dress over my bare bottom until the top of the G-string I had picked out was visible. He then held it that way. I felt as though I might pee myself my stomach was so tingly. "Were you more comfortable without them Jessica?" James asked. I couldn't answer. James lowered my dress and patted my bottom through it. "You're so frightened." He said. "Turn around. Have a drink." I turned and he gave me back my glass. I took a large sip and the brandy burned my throat as it went down.

 "thankyou." I said smiling meekly.

 "Do you want to take your panties off?" James said. I didn't know! I wasn't ready to make decisions.

 "Do you want me to?" I asked.

 "You want me to decide for you?" James asked. I nodded. "I see." James said. "Maybe not just yet. First why don't you finish your drink." I nodded and while everyone just stood and waited I finished the brandy in three quick swigs. "Anxious are we?" James asked. "Take off your panties Jessica."

 I reached under my dress and catching my waist band I tugged my panties down and off. All the men, and at this point there had to be close to twenty of them smiled approvingly, many nodding. James extended a hand, I handed him the panties and he opened them and held them up to the crowd. Then he faced me.

 "Smell these Jessica, do they smell like you were aroused?" James held the panties in front of my face and I sniffed the air. "No." James said, "Put your nose right in the crotch." The tingle was turning to deep humiliation as I reached up and pulled the crotch to my nose. It was slightly damp and I inhaled deeply, my musky scent filling my nostrils.

 "Are they wet?" James asked. I nodded as he pulled them away from my face and draped them over an empty wine bottle.  "She's wet." James said smiling. "Why don't you dance for a while you enjoyed that last time you were here. Oh, but you were naked last time weren't you." James said working the crowd. "Well, I think it's a little early to be naked, do you think you can keep your clothes on for a few hours? Maybe later you can get naked." James said and left the room.

 I stood before these men shaking wildly wondering what would happen. One of them approached then another their hands were up under my dress, on my ass, between my legs. I felt my dress going higher and just stood there letting these men strip me.

 "Hey!" James said re-entering the room. My arms were above my head and my dress was about to come off the men stopped, my dress covered my face, and that's about it. "You are terrible Jessica." James said. "You've been alone less than a minute and you are already getting naked, I can see that this is going to be a long night. I have an idea." James led me to the table without lowering my dress and pushed my chest down onto it. My naked ass and pussy facing out towards the room.

 "If you can't stay dressed until at least nine o'clock, I'll have to do this again." With that he spanked me three times not enough to hurt, but not lightly. I jumped out of my skin, spilling several drinks on the table, I smelled wine and booze on my dress. James then stood me up and pulled my dress back down. I felt horribly dirty, and used, and almost nauseous. "Keep her dressed." James said and poured himself a drink standing by the hall door to watch as the same two men approached me.

 Music began to play, and they began to grind against me, their hands feeling my breasts through my dress, and running up and down my bare legs, going under the dress all the way to my ass, now just a little tender. the brandy began to kick in, and I stood in the middle of the dance floor swaying to the music as different men pawed me. I was given a fresh drink and I finished it while dancing. 

 Fingers caressed me, reaching through my dress to squeeze my breasts. Fingers found their way inside me, stretching my pussy as they explored me. I was lost in the sensations, several songs passed. Then I felt a woman's chest against my back, and fingers reaching around the front of my dress. Bria was there. Inch by inch she lifted my dress to expose me. I opened my eyes looking for a clock, it was barely eight. Panic gripped me.

 "No don't." I whispered. James stood near the door smiling, I couldn't see my husband.

 "I want to strip her." Bria said looking past me to James.

 "Go ahead." James said. "She doesn't mind." With that Bria pulled my dress higher and higher until it covered my face and I raised my arms to allw it passage as it came off. No sooner was it off than Bria's hands unclasped my bra from the front and my breast released bouncing into full view. I stood naked as Bria tossed my bra out into the room. Then she ran her hands over my breasts. I stood facing the men Bria's arms coming through my own.

 "What a tramp." Bria said releasing me and walking around to stand in front of me. She wore the same dress She had been wearing earlier. I noticed the hem line was barely an inch below her bottom. "Are you checking me out?" She asked. I couldn't reply. "Stay here." She said going into the hall for a moment she left me standing before all the men naked. A moment later she returned a tiny pair of satin thong leopard print panties dangling from her finger.

 "At least I went in the other room." She said. "You're the expert, why don't you sniff these, and tell me if I'm aroused." She laughed handing me the panties. Shamefully I held them to my nose they too were very damp and smelled sweet and musky at the same time. "Why don't you lick the crotch." Bria said. "Tell me how they taste." My eyes snapped to her as I implored her with my expression not to make me do it. She looked back as if to say 'WELL?'. I extended my tongue and licked the crotch of her panties there wasn't much taste a little sweet not that different from the taste of my own pussy. A wave of self revulsion swept through me. Then Bria stepped forward and brought her hand into my crotch. I parted my legs slightly by reflex as she slid a finger the length of my soaking wet lips and then plunged it into me.

 "How is she?" James asked.

 "Soaking wet." Bria said.

 "I might have known." James answered. "You are enjoying this Jessica. Aren't you?" James said aproaching as Bria removed her finger and stepped back. "Who am I to deny you." He placed his hand on my bare bottom and pushed me towards the crowd of men. "Go then dance, and enjoy."

 I was caught as I stumbled forward by a strong handsome man who like all the other men wore a suit. Immediately there were hands on my flesh. My nipples, my pussy, my asshole all roughly felt and pinched. These were not men being romantic, these were men given the gift of a naked woman and going for the only thing that interested them. I felt like a device given to them for their pleasure. I realized I was still holding Bria's panties. My pussy began to throb there was a finger buried in it and I began to come.

 "Jessica." James' voice, I was half turned towards it to see him through the men. He was looking in at me. "This is it, you can either leave now or accept the rest of the evening." My arms were held, there were hands on my breasts the finger inside me and the thumb on my clitoris, and a hand squeezed my ass, as it's middle finger tickled my anus. I looked up at him.

 "Stay or go?" James asked. The orgasm hadn't subsided, and I closed my eyes and turned away from him. I felt my body being lowered, I saw a cock come out near my eye level as several of the men began to undress. The cock was placed at my lips and I took it into my mouth. I felt the finger slide quickly from my pussy and something unmistakably thicked replace it. I was about to be gang-banged!

 The cock slid into me and even as wet as I was it spread me open, I moaned as he began to pump. In short order he tensed up and began to come, pumping himself into me as deeply as he could. I began to pant through my nose as I sucked and licked the cock in my mouth knowing it wouldn't leave until it came. The man in my pussy withdrew and another entered a mere moment later. 

 I was on all fours somewhere in the main room. The cock in my mouth began to come and he withdrew quickly after the first burst hit the back of my throat and continued to ejaculate spraying my breasts and face. The one in my pussy also came quickly, and I felt a tremendous amount of cum inside me. As he withdrew I was pulled on top of a naked man. 

 I looked down at his face he smiled and entered me. Then a new feeling as another man began shoving his dick into my asshole. I could feel the two cocks almost touching each-other through the thin walls inside me. Another orgasm built and then numbness took over. I was presented with another face-less cock to suck. A great deal of time passed. 

 The triple penetrations gave way to doubles and then only one person at a time. I could finaly see the room a little. I was sore in every fiber of my being, cum ran in rivulets all over my body. I could no longer support myself and lay on my stomache with my arms sprawled out in front of me as men lifted my head into their lap or entered me from behind. I lifted my head enough to see the clock and saw that it was almost midnight. 

 The man fucking me finished adding more semen to my asshole and headed for the kitchen. I was left alone in the room. I slowly began to stand. Shakily I got my feet and winced as cum drippled past my raw lips. I made my way to the kitchen dripping cum the whole way. James and Bria stood near the door to the kitchen, James had Bria's dress hiked in the back and was softly kneeding her ass. Bria saw me coming and nudged James who turned and smiled.

 I made it to the kitchen where a TV had been set on the center island just as the countdown began. I was given a champagne glass and as the ball dropped in times square so far away I toasted with a room full of men who had just fucked the shit out of me. As the toast subsided I caught sight of my husband standing near the television.

 "He's alright I gave him a blowjob for you." Bria whispered to me. I ran a hand across my torso smearing the cum all over me, I was beginning to itch.

 "Can I clean up?" I asked.

 "Not just yet." James said. "We want you to put your dress back on and pose for some pictures." A few minutes later I was in the living room my bra, panties, and dress pulled over my slimy body body posing for a photo with each man who had fucked me. James counted while Bria took polaroids and digital photos.


Tease On



"Twenty-six." James said. "For a total of thirty-seven times, some went twice. These photos will look great in a scrapbook." James said. "Bria, why don't you take her upstairs and help her clean up, I'll be up for you in a little while."

 Bria led me to a lavish bathroom and got me undressed. My panties were a cum soaked mess, and she made me lick them clean while she scrubbed me with a mesh scrubby and fragrant soap. Then she washed my hair twice and conditioned it, using a sprayer in the large tub. After cleaning my panties with my tongue I passed into a deep sleep. I woke up naked in a large bed alone.

Hope you liked it, I might add more.

-Love Jess   



Tease or Coffee



My God

How had she gotten into this?

It had all started so safe.

What was happening to her?

How in hell did she ever wind up like this?

She lay, face down on her own, once safe, bed sobbing hard into her pillow, sweat rolling from her naked body and her breath coming in terrified gasps. Fear rippled through her and she shivered.

Shit, how did I let it get this far?

She thought back to when it had started, back so long ago, to the beginning, to that morning.

She had been out, walking and window-shopping, idly passing time. A coffee shop had struck her eye and she had ventured in, the thought of a warm cappuccino and the heady aroma lured her like a mouse to the bait.

Once within the aging walls she found herself surrounded by all the trappings of the modern coffee shop, elegantly wrapped in the charm of an old world building. The center of the shop had an enclosed courtyard and tables. A stone fountain trickled water underneath a Perspex roof and potted plants adorned the walls. 

Such a tranquil place, so warm, so inviting.

How could she have guessed what would happen there, what would start in such an ideal setting.

There were patrons scattered about and a quick scan revealed only one table free. She made for it and settled herself in, then ordered a coffee and leaned back, listening to the peaceful splashing of the fountain.

Suddenly a shape appeared before her, a man, he was tall and dressed in a long black coat. His wild wind tossed hair fell about his shoulders framing a smiling face. He was speaking to her and she had to shake herself back to reality.

“I said, do you mind if I sit here? I’m afraid there aren’t any other seats available.”

She looked around, he was right, all the other tables were full. She nodded dumbly and gestured to the chair opposite her. His eyes twinkled as he flashed her a grin and sat. He introduced himself as Mark and reached out a hand. She responded automatically, not realizing what she was doing until their hands were clasped.

His handshake was firm and warm, he smiled again and his eyes seemed to bore into her, sending a charge tickling down her spine.

Their coffee arrived,

Arrogant, she thought, he told them where he was sitting before he even asked me.

She was about to open her mouth but decided against it, so what? If he had set his sights on her what did it matter? She leaned back and eyed him over, no there was no problem with that.

They drank, mostly in silence broken by awkward attempts at conversation, which they both abandoned after a while.

She pretended to look around the courtyard, following people as they wandered about, her eyes glancing over him at every opportunity, and catching him looking at her more than once.

She was staring passed him at the fountain, fantasies whispering through her mind, her hand reaching for the small laminated menu in the middle of the table when suddenly she encountered his fingers. 

She started, her face reddening. He only looked at her and smiled, “you have very soft skin,” he said, his finger caressing the back of her hand.

She shuddered, down in her hips a warm feeling began to spread.

“Excuse me for a minute will you?” she snatched her hand back, and stood up, “I have to go…go and…. freshen up.”

Hear heart was thumping in her chest as she made her way to the bathroom sign at the other side of the courtyard.

When she got there she found a door with ‘Mens’, ‘Womens’, and ‘Disabled’ on it. She pushed, it was open, and she staggered through the doorway into the single cubicle inside. It was a large room for a toilet, made for wheelchair access and lined with handrails. She sat on the toilet lid for a while, pulling herself together.

God, that’s never happened before.

She was shaking and her panties were damp, Fuck I am so godammed horny, what is wrong with me?

After a few minutes she straightened up and headed for the door, she hoped he was still there, she had to at least get his number. She hoped she could look him in the eye again.

Please still be there, please still be there.

Her hand reached the doorknob and turned it. The door swung in by itself, propelled by some unseen force. She gasped, he was standing in the doorway.

He stepped in and closed the door, smiling at her. She started to speak but he stepped forward and took her in his arms, pressing his lips against hers and sliding his arms around her waist. She struggled at first, tried to push him away but his kiss was warm and soft yet firm and commanding, she yielded to it and relaxed. Her arms fell to her sides and her legs lost their strength.

He pushed her back to the wall, the handrail pressing against her behind, her lips hungrily devouring his tongue. She gripped the handrail to steady herself as he pressed his body against hers. Her legs parted slightly and he ground his pelvis into her dampened crotch.

One of his hands left the small of her back and slid up to behind her head, taking a handful of her hair and pulling her head back, letting his tongue slide over her chin and down her neck. Her hips were pushing in time with his and she let her head fall back against the wall, eyes closed and mouth open.

“Do you like games?” he whispered in her ear. She groaned and nodded, feeling the hot damp breath on her earlobe.

“Do you like this game?” his tongue darted into her earlobe momentarily, “Do you want to play with me?”

“Yesss” she groaned, “I want to play, oh god I want to play”

He released her hair, his fingers tracing a line over her shoulder, across her chest to the buttons on her blouse. Slowly, as he nuzzled her neck, he began to open them one by one.

She caught her breath as the hand slipped inside, warm against her damp skin, slowly pushing her blouse off her shoulder and down her arm. His lips worked their way from her neck to her bare shoulder, she jumped as he softly bit the tender skin. He blew on the bite until she had goose bumps then kissed it, sending tremors through her body. Her back arched and she pushed her wet crotch against the hard lump in his pants, he groaned and bit her shoulder again.

His hand cupped her breast and, through her bra, gently rolled around her growing nipple making it chafe against the fabric. She moaned and squirmed, willing him in, wanting it so badly. His fingers left her breast and slid down to her stomach, making wide circles around her belly. Then moved around her side, under the blouse, to her back and pushed down into her jeans, massaging her buttocks.

“Fuck me,” she breathed, “fuck me.” Her hands clenched the rail and her legs shook.

He chuckled into her shoulder and ran his tongue down her breast, sliding it under her bra and pushing down till he found her aching nipple. His hips dipped, down and away from her wet crotch and she groaned in anguish.

He licked and prodded at her nipple and worked it up, out of the bra, then sucked it into his mouth and rolled it with his tongue. She gulped air in and hissed it back out through her teeth, grinding her ass against the rail, desperate for some release. 

Releasing her nipple he ran his tongue slowly down her chest and then her stomach, pausing a moment to tease her belly button. Both his hands came around the front of her and he undid her belt and the button on her jeans, tugging the zipper down with his teeth.

She bit her lip, and opened her legs wider.

Please, oh please… yes.

He opened up the front of her jeans and pulled them down. Not far, just enough to expose her panties, which he curled down leaving her buttocks to feel the smooth steel of the handrail.

She moaned as his tongue lashed out against her, running through the wispy hair around her hot and ready pussy. Slow nips and nibbles sent waves through her, as he worked across her, above her clitoris, licking, biting, swirling his tongue.

His hands pushed her back, hard against the wall, making her feet dangle slightly off the ground. She fought for balance, gripping the rail harder, the seat of her jeans foiling attempts to put her legs on his shoulders.

He laughed and held her there, helpless. She was totally unable to grasp his head with either hands or legs and force it into the depths of her yearning wetness. She groaned as his tongue resumed its work, spiraling ever so slowly down, teasing her clitoris with the occasional passing touch. He worked her over and over, lapping, licking and sucking, laying a tattoo of small bite marks around hot, wet quivering pussy. She felt like she was going to scream, desperate to feel that thick hot tongue slide between her wet lips.

Suddenly he plunged his tongue down, past the lips of her pussy and deep inside her. Caught off guard she jolted, hitting her head against the wall. She let out a low scream as the fiery tongue darted in and out. Thick, hot and hard it lapped at her and curled around inside her, sending her into a frenzy. Her hips bucked and she lost her balance on the rail, her buttocks slipping off.

He caught her, she still gripped the rail with her hands and he now held her thighs, still sending that tongue into her over and over again. Her juices ran all over his face, her arms ached and she felt like she would explode, his tongue slipped out and began to lap at her, running over her clitoris and back down again to plunge deep into her, again and again. Over and over until she thought she couldn’t take any more. She arched and bucked, her legs kicked as she gasped and whimpered.

Her breathing grew sharper and her muscles started to spasm, she bucked and arched harder, unable to control herself. The tongue lashed faster and felt the explosion growing inside her.

Suddenly he stopped, leaned back and let her sink to the floor. She whimpered at him, unable to talk, the explosion still building inside her. He tilted her head back and kissed her hard on the lips, wiping her juices over her face, she began to shake and lost sight of the world around her. She ground her hips on the floor, still breathing hard, so close, so very close. She didn’t see him leave, didn’t hear the door creak open, couldn’t smell the coffee outside, there was nothing but her and the great warm explosion coursing up through her body.

When her senses cleared she could see the open door, beyond it there were several tables the other side of a lattice screen. She didn’t know if anyone had seen her but the possibility made her go scarlet. Jeans down, breast out and sitting on the floor of a toilet having an orgasm, she would never live it down.

She groaned to herself and pushed the door shut. Quickly she grabbed some paper from the dispenser and cleaned herself up, pulling her clothes back together she looked in the mirror and decided her hair would have to do.

She braced herself and pushed the door open. Several people looked up as she walked out, but they didn’t seem too interested in her, maybe no one had noticed. She was amazed, she had made that much noise that she was sure the whole shop had heard her. Suddenly the idea that she had gotten away with sex in a public place started to turn her on. She was warming up again when she got back to her table.

Mark had gone, worse still so had her handbag.

Damn.

She felt suddenly let down, the loss of the handbag cut her. Yet somehow there was the feeling that her erotic adventure was worth it and that dammed feeling between her legs just wasn’t going away. 

When she went to the counter at the front of the shop she was relieved to find he had paid her bill, well that at least was something.

The burning need in her loins was growing and she had to concentrate on not ramming her hand down into the front of her jeans as she hurried home. Instead she clenched her lower stomach muscles and rolled her ass as she walked, letting her thighs do the work of gently feeding her need as she hurried along.

Dammit, this is all his doing.

She was running through her mind all the things she had in the kitchen drawers, there must be something there that she could use to fuck herself senseless with when she got home, there had to be.

Oh god, walk faster will you?

Finally she reached her building, she hurried in and made for the elevator. Once the doors closed she was alone, immediately her hand flew to her lusting crotch, she rubbed her fingers over her jeans. They were wet, very wet. Her hand rubbed and clasped, driving the thick denim into her inner recesses, making her moan and lean on the wall for support.

By the time that the door opened her jeans were a lot wetter and her knickers had become wedged up the crack in her ass, a sensation that she was quite enjoying for a change.

She walked down the hall to her door and stopped dead.

Oh shit!

Her key was in her handbag.

She hammered on the door in frustration and caught her breath as it drifted open. Had she forgotten to close it? She didn’t think so.

Slowly she pushed it open and peered in. Everything in her tiny one room apartment looked normal, she could see her kitchenette and small adjoining bathroom, breakfast bar, living room with the couch and coffee table and her TV was still there. Beyond that a low partition wall hid her bed but not the glass windows that opened out onto her balcony beyond it.

She crept in and closed the door as quietly as she could, looking around for a possible intruder. There wasn’t one, she knew it, the door was not broken, someone had used a key.

Her key.

From her own handbag.

It was him, Mark, the guy from the coffee shop, he had found her details and went straight to her apartment and let himself in.

She should have been scared, but she wasn’t.

There should have been the need for some kind of caution, but there wasn’t.

The only thing she felt was the burning desire to fuck something.

Anything.

Anyone.

She walked down the length of the apartment, slowly, looking around, watching, and waiting. Nothing jumped out at her and there was no sign of him having been there, until she reached the partition that hid her bed from the rest of the apartment. She gasped as she saw what lay there, her legs went weak and she felt like she needed to pee.

There were handcuffs hanging from her wooden bed head, two pairs. A note lay on her pillow, all it said was ‘want to play?’. She picked it up to look at it and saw underneath another note, this one just said ‘face down’.

Hear heart was thumping and it felt like her stomach was doing flips, breathing hard she just stood there, not knowing what to do. Her lust took over, she didn’t think, didn’t care, the burning inside her drive her body forward. She stripped off to her underwear and knelt on her bed, snapping one of her wrists into a handcuff. The other was not so easy, she struggled with it for several moments before she managed to get the cuff to close over her wrist, and then she banged it shut on the bed head.

Kneeling it required a bit of wriggling before she could stretch herself out on the bed, face down as ordered. Her heart was racing in her throat and the wetness and anticipation between her legs was getting unbearable.

What the hell am I doing?

Time passed and nothing happened, she started to feel cold, afraid, what if he was not here, not coming? She was cuffed to a bed and unable to reach the phone, unable to call neighbor for help either as all the small apartments were sound proofed. She could lay here till she starved, until she died.

Now she started to cry, she felt so lost, so foolish, so scared. It wasn’t an adventure anymore.

There was a click, she held her breath, her bathroom door whispered open, he had been here all along. She could hear his footsteps as he approached, soft and slow.

He sat on the bed next to her, looking down with a smirk on his face, and toyed with her hair. His finger slid down the nape of her neck, doing small circles on her shoulders, to her bra strap, which he pulled up and let go, making a snapping noise on her back. He traced an irregular line down her back to the waistband on her panties, flicking and stretching it, sending shivers through her body. 

He casually slid his palm over her buttocks, rolling them slightly, and then flat against her aching mound. She opened her legs wider and tilted her hips, pushing up into his hand, feeling it press down on her, giving her a warm tingling sensation that spread up through her belly. His fingers worked through the thin fabric, worming their way between her full wet lips as she clenched the bed head and groaned. Slipping beneath the drenched cloth he began to slowly stroke her, his thumb bumping against her anus, making her hotter than she could believe.

Oh shit, oh fuck yes, oh yes.

She clenched her teeth and pushed her ass down into his sliding hand, trying to impale herself on it. He chuckled and pushed his thumb hard up to her tight rear hole, massaging it and making her squeal. He changed his strokes so they went from her clitoris all the way back to her ass, getting her totally wet. Slowly he slid a finger into her pussy, a moan escaping her lips, and began thrusting it in and out, finger fucking her while his thumb ground in time against her now wet ass. 

She felt his thumb pushing harder and harder with each stroke of the finger sliding into her pussy until finally it was punching into her ass, again and again, not quite penetrating her. She pushed back harder, hoping to drive her ass down on that elusive probing thumb, panting and grunting under the strain, pulling her arms painfully tight on the handcuffs. 

Come on baby, jam that thing into me, hurry up, what are you waiting for?

He didn’t though, he kept pushing on her ass while he finger fucked her, spare fingers caressing and tickling her lips and clit. The thought of being fucked in the ass was sending her to the edge, the long slow strokes of the finger and the short hard punches from the thumb were bringing her to the brink. She was gasping, only moments away when he stopped and pulled out of her.

She whimpered and cursed, rolling her hips and trying to rub her lips together and finish it while there was still a chance, but he laughed at her and dampened her passion.

Bastard.

He stood up and walked out of her sight, and she heard him rummaging through her kitchenette, going through the drawers and opening the fridge. Presently he came back, she couldn’t see what he was carrying and he climbed on the bed, sitting on her ass, where she couldn’t turn her head to watch him.

Something cold touched her back and she jumped. Then he put something else on her, not so cold, and finally something freezing. Goose bumps came up all over and her nipples hardened into little bullets, which sank into her bra.

He started doing something, making a funny scraping sound. There were things landing on her back, little cool things, little damp things. One of them landed on her shoulder and slipped onto the bed where she could see it, it was carrot peel, he was sitting on her peeling a carrot.

When he had finished he put the carrot on the pillow next to her face so she could see, he must have found the biggest carrot in her fridge, it was huge. He had whittled the point off it and made a dull, blunt knob and about two thirds down it’s length he had cut a groove around it. She was wondering what all this was going to be used for when he took something off her back and held it in front of her eyes.

A knife.

A fucking big knife at that.

Oh shit.

She whimpered, in genuine fear this time, as he rolled it around in his palm, bringing it to rest on her shoulder. She stared at it unable to move or speak as the knife glided over her shoulder and out of her sight. The point ran along her skin like a cold, sharp fingernail sending the muscles in her back into uncontrollable jitters. The knife encountered her bra strap and lifted it off her back she herd a tearing sound as the strap parted and her bra went slack.




Tease or Coffee



The knifepoint continued it’s way across her back and down her side, sending twinges and shivers right through her. It reached her hip and slid under her knickers, giving them the same treatment as her bra. Following the curves of her buttocks it grazed it’s way over to the other hip and slashed her knickers again then she breathed a sigh of relief as she heard it drop to the floor.

He took the back of her knickers and twirled them into a rope, sending them deep into the crack in her ass. Then slowly he pulled them up, she could feel them sliding over her clit, her pussy, her ass and up her back. He grabbed her hair and pulled her head back, dropping the sodden knickers on her pillow and pushing her face back onto them.

The smell of her own sex invaded her senses as he took the last cold thing from her back, she turned to look at it, a block of butter. She watched as he squashed it in his fingers, letting big chunks fall on her bed and pillow, then he rolled off her and slapped his buttered hand against her ass. It stung and she yelped, then he began soft smooth massaging on and around her anus. She moaned into her pillow, his fingers licking against her pussy lips and slapping the inside of her thighs as they worked on her ass.

Her tight little hole began to yield and soften under the slippery, soothing caress of his fingers, opening slightly and allowing him to push a finger a little way into her. She bit into her pillow, groaning, as his finger slid in and out… in and out, again and again. Her body flexed and bucked, yearning for more.

He stopped and withdrew his finger.

God damn it, not again.

He reached over and took the carrot from against her face, where it had rolled to, and rubbed some butter on to it.

About time.

She could feel the blunt end of the carrot rolling around her willing ass in little circles, she pushed her head down and raised her ass to meet it, opening up ever so slightly. The tip closed her tight hole and he pushed it in, slow and smooth. She grunted, the carrot was huge compared to the finger and it felt like it might rip her apart. Still it came, more and more, huge and cool. Just when she couldn’t take any more, when she thought she could feel her ass splitting his hand bumped into her, she had taken it all.

Swiftly he pulled it back and then pushed it slowly back into her.

OOHHH MY GODDD.

He started fucking her properly with it, long smooth strokes, slamming his hand against her pussy at the end of each one. She screamed into her pillow, sucking in pussy flavored air, as the huge cock like thing pounded her ass into raw ecstasy. She strained at the cuffs, bucking as hard as she could, feeling every stroke pushing her forward into the bed head.

The royal ass fucking she was getting started to slow down, she groaned in disappointment, and he slid it in one more time… further than before. Her tight ass locked around the ring he had carved in it and it stayed there, filling her ass and defying her every attempt to squeeze it out.

He moved around the bed so she could see him and unzipped his pants. They hit the floor and he curled down his boxers, she gulped, his cock was huge. Thick, long and pulsing with veins it reared at her like some kind of monstrous snake. It was totally devoid of hair and the tip was wet and glistening.

He pulled the pillow from under her head. Beside the bed there was a chair and he took the cushion off of that as well. Hopping up on the bed he put one arm under her and lifted her ass up, sliding the pillows beneath her. She spread her legs and arched her back as he knelt behind her, his cock slapped her leg as he positioned himself. Gently the tip of his cock engaged her dripping wet hole, slowly working it’s way in, his hands holding her hips as he inched her down his hot, hard cock.

She sobbed as the huge member stretched her poor pussy, pulled even tighter by the thing embedded in her ass. She gasped as he slid the last bit in and his stomach hit the end of the carrot, making it feel like someone was fucking her ass as well. He started thrusting in long strokes, his hairless balls slapping her clitoris, her ass bulging as his body prodded it. She grasped the handcuff chains with white knuckles, rocking back and forth under the impact of this double penetration, breathing in ragged gasps.

He dug his fingers into her hips and picked up the tempo, slamming that monster cock into her, juices running down the base of his cock and balls, making quiet wet noises as he slapped her. Her ass quivered, and she felt as though her whole body was full of hard, pounding cock. Deep shudders ran through her and the sweat dripped off her nipples, still he fucked her, hard and fast. Her head was pushed against the bed head and her knees lifted off the bed as he heaved into her with all the strength he had, hissing through his teeth as she bit her lip and whimpered into her mattress. He pushed and pulled, fucking her deep for what seemed like ages while she writhed and thrashed beneath him.

He reached a hand underneath her and found a swinging breast, holding it in his hand and gently squeezing it, fucking her hard all the while. His fingers closed around her nipple and he pinched it, painfully tight. She shrieked and her muscles contracted. Her ass closed around the carrot and it seemed to grow inside her, his giant member seemed to double in size, sending her over the edge. He released her nipple and the pain faded, replaced by convulsions as a powerful orgasm shook through her body. He wrapped both arms around her waist and slammed into her one last time, holding her there and grinding his throbbing cock as deep into her pussy as he could while he pumped rivers of cum, groaning loudly.

After he regained his breath he withdrew, falling beside her on the bed, and taking her head in his hands he kissed her on the lips, deep and warm. When they finally parted he looked into her eyes, she smiled, the orgasm was still flowing through her.

She heard him dress, felt the handcuffs open and her arms drop to the bed. She lay there softly shaking with the warm glow spread through her making her whole body tingle as he let himself out. The thing was still in her ass, she left it there and curled up, feeling it move she smiled. She didn’t know what to do now, but there was one thing she did know for sure.

Tomorrow she was buying another coffee.



Tease Please



The TV's blaring, her favorite show lighting up our little apartment, but I pay it no mind. I simply stare at her, lying on the couch in nothing but a skimpy pair of red panties and a stainless white T-shirt, the liquid crystal display casting a feint blue tinge on her gently tanned skin. Massaging her heavenly feet in my lap, I marvel at the beauty of her golden blonde hair, luscious rosy-red lips, and cute little ears, her lovely hazel eyes fixed on the screen, hands folded on her stomach. I sit up on my knees facing her, her feet resting on my uncovered thighs, dressed only in boxers, as I tenderly pull her panties off. 

"Mmm, honey can we wait a bit? My show's almost over," she asks politely, without even turning her head. 

Choosing to ignore her, I spread her legs apart, resting her left leg on the back of the cold leather couch, her right hanging off the seat, her foot on the floor. I kiss the insides of her evenly tanned thighs, brushing her pretty, short brown pubic hair with my lips, finding myself a comfortable position. I lightly kiss the lips of her angelic vagina, placing my hands on her hips while my kisses grow long and firm. My tongue flicks around her pussy, the taste of her precious cunt paradise in my mouth. I run my tongue up and down the length of her slit, pressing harder until she starts to softly moan. 

I didn't even realize that she had muted the TV until I look up, her head back with her eyes closed and her mouth open, her hands holding the backs of her thighs. I crack a smile and return to pleasuring her. Turning my head to the side, I passionately lock lips and kiss her vag just like it was her mouth. I gently part her lips with mine, slowly sticking my tongue in her as far as I can. I wiggle my tongue inside her pussy, side to side and up and down, feeling the moist insides of her vagina. I pull my tongue out and go back to licking her lips, lightly flicking the hood of her clitoris with the tip of my tongue. Her swollen clit quickly peeks out, throbbing between my lips as I tenderly suck on it. 

"Baby I can't take it anymore, please make me cum!" she pleads. 

I force my tongue between her lips, furiously making a lapping motion inside of her, squeezing her hips while she pulls down on my head, her moans growing louder by the second. 

"Uhhhh, ohhh baby, ohhhh yes, oh my god, oh fuck, oh my god fuck yessss, oh yessss!" she screams in delight. 

She puts her legs over my shoulders and hooks her feet together, her heels on my back, squeezing her thighs tight on my head. Her screams muffled by her thighs covering my ears, I feel her orgasm violently in my mouth, her body spasming in ecstasy, her hands pulling down on my head with all her might. I keep eating her out, her pussy still shaking on my tongue, until she quickly cums twice more. 

I withdraw my tongue and she lets go of my head, running her elegant fingers through her hair while she unclamps her feet, releasing my head from between her legs. I lightly kiss her still quivering lips, my head ringing from the pressure of her thighs.  

I spread her legs again and pull her shirt off, revealing her toned, flat stomach and firm, large breasts. I playfully wiggle my tongue in her navel as if it were her pussy until she fully winds down, her breathing returning to normal. 

Sitting up, I lovingly massage her supple breasts while we passionately kiss, her soft hands squeezing the backs of my arms. I roll my tongue around her hard nipples, moving my hands down along her sides, then gently suck on them. I back up and lightly rub her pussy lips with the back of my hand, my left holding her right thigh. I tenderly rub the hood of her clit until it pops out again, swollen and red as I rub it with my thumb. 

I reach up, kissing her clit while she sucks on my index finger. I gently stick my wet finger in her vag, slowly moving my hand back and forth, kissing and nuzzling her sensitive pubic hair while she watches me hungrily, playing with her breasts and pinching her pointed nipples. 

I put my middle finger inside her as well, both of my fingers now drenched in her juices, lightly flicking her clit with my tongue. 

"I'm so wet baby, make me cum, please make me cum," she begs. 

I rapidly finger her pussy, vigorously sucking on her clit, listening as her moans quickly turn to screams. She straightens out both of her legs, digging her nails into the backs of her thighs, her legs spread with her feet pointed at the ceiling, toes curled. 

"Ohhhh fuck, you're making me cum again, ohhhh fuck yes, ohhhh fuckkkkk!" she screams, the euphoria of orgasm taking over. 

I feel her whole body quake, struggling to breathe, her pussy shaking and pouring her fluids on my fingers, her clit throbbing in my mouth. I keep finger fucking her, rapidly flicking her clit with my tongue, her high pitched screaming filling my head. She cums once more, even more violently than the last, her legs shaking in the air. I slow down to a halt, kissing her pubes as she puts her feet on the couch by my sides, the sound of her screaming now replaced with heavy breathing. 

I withdraw my fingers and suck her juices off of them before lightly kissing her pussy lips goodbye. I move up, tenderly kissing her stomach, chest, and neck on my way. 

"Wow, that was amazing honey. I love you so much," she says quietly. 

"I love you too Gina," I whisper in her ear before kissing her cheek. 

Her breathing slows and she stops shaking as I lie down, my chest flat on her stomach, using her left boob as a pillow. She grabs a blanket from beside the couch and throws it over us, straightening out her legs and turning off the TV, which had faded to static some time ago. She holds my hand on her breast and rubs the back of my head with her hand while I fall asleep in her arms.



Tease the Bull...



The following story is my maiden voyage, my virgin attempt, if you will. This being the case, I strongly desire the input of those who like the offering and those who wish to offer constructive criticism. Here again, if you're going to critique my offering, I'm a virgin after a fashion. So be gentle. I love to write and I want to get better at it, so please help me do so... 

*

I've destroyed my life. I don't want to sound overly dramatic, but it's true. Oh, the damage hasn't yet set in. But it will, and when it does it will be devastating. And there will be lots of collateral damage. The sad thing is that the damage to me will be relatively light. Yes, my reputation will take a major hit. People will hate me and talk about me behind my back. I will be an object of scorn and derision, and the more moral of my acquaintances and family will shun me. These things I'm ready for. I realize realistically that I put myself in this position so it's only fit that I suffer for my actions. I started the ball rolling and now I have to be a big girl and face the consequences.

What's going to happen, but is so terribly unfair, is that people I love are going to be hurt as well. It hurts me that I will be responsible for that. It especially hurts that I could have kept this from happening in the first place. What disgusts me the most is not that I let this happen, but that, knowing all the above, I will most assuredly let it keep happening. At this point, I realize that I just can't, or truthfully don't want to, help myself. I enjoyed a full meal of the forbidden fruit and I already hunger for more. It's not rational. It's destructive behavior. You don't say you love people and then willingly hurt them with your selfishness. Maybe I'm somehow psychologically damaged, especially considering how much I've changed. Then again, maybe that's just another excuse to let me keep destroying my reputation and loved ones. At any rate, the truth will come out. As far as I know, only three people know the circumstances at this point. That's two too many. Wasn't it old Ben Franklin that said "Three can keep a secret if two are dead?" That I'm one of those three is no real comfort. There is always the strong likelihood that my own guilt will betray me. So at some point, I will be found out. It's as certain as the next sunrise. And it will probably happen sooner rather than later.

My name is Kyran Hillman Hamilton. The name of my town isn't important, as you've probably never heard of it anyway. Concealing that bit of information will also serve to help protect the innocent. I've lived in this town all my twenty plus years. I was the typical small town girl, nothing above average. Yes, I was always pretty and popular. My dad was a business man and we were not rich, but far from poor. I had the usual friends, the usual social life, and had the usual "crushes." I was athletic, playing softball and basketball, but I didn't let sports consume my life. Strangely enough, I didn't date many jocks. For the most part I found them to be arrogant asses, and I didn't want to be just another notch on a belt. I was a good student, but I wasn't exactly a Rhodes Scholar either.

I was considered a catch. I'm tall at 5' 11" and with a nicely curved figure. I show my Irish blood with long fiery red hair, green eyes, and creamy skin. Yes, I'm what the more irreverent in society today call a "Ginger." It's somewhat annoying if you're concerned about getting a tan, but that's never been on my list of important things. That's why they make sun block. My breasts are not overly large, a "B" cup just slightly over an "A", but I have those puffy, pink aureoles and sensitive nipples that guys like. My waist is slim and my hips are ample, but not overly so. I've got a nicely shaped tush as well, if I do say so myself. I've been told that I've got a dynamite set of legs, and I suppose they are long and well shaped. While I don't have the face of a fashion model, I've been told by both boys and a few girls that I'm beautiful. Some have told me that I vaguely resemble the actress Poppy Montgomery. I'm no virgin, if you're curious, but no slut either. Only two guys had so far made it to the Promised Land. The first of the two was a complete disaster, he didn't know what he was doing, it hurt, and he's history. The last of those two now is my husband.

I met Willis Hamilton at our local community college. I was intending to take a few courses in business that would make me more valuable around my dad's store. Willis was taking photography courses. He was already taking family portraits and shots of kids before he even graduated high school, along with the more artistic shots he took for his hobby. He had a small studio in town with an upstairs apartment and darkroom, the latter since he had learned "old school" film photography. He was accepting the inevitable advance of technology and was learning the digital method of today. Though we had attended the same high school, he had graduated two years ahead of me, so we didn't know each other well. I recognized him, but only acknowledged him with a wave when he said hello in passing.

Willis was slightly taller than me, with a slim but muscular build, brown hair, and a well trimmed beard. He had the cutest set of blue eyes as well. He was no Ashton Kutcher, but kids weren't going to run screaming from him either. Those who knew him said he had an easy, laid back personality and was quick with a joke. I thought he was cute, but he didn't seem to do anything other than notice me, and I've never been one to push myself on a near stranger. The thing that finally endeared him to me, and was the genesis of our relationship, was how cute he looked when he blushed and got embarrassed on the occasion of our initial conversation.

I guess that needs some explaining. I had heard through the grapevine that he was asking about me. He wanted to know whether or not I was dating, among other things. I assumed he was getting up the nerve to ask me out. But Willis had a surprise for me. You see Willis had a class project. It was one of those artsy type things, but the jist of it was that he needed to shoot a nude photo. Imagine my surprise when he approached me in the parking lot at my car to be the model. The poor guy was nearly incoherent at first as he tried to give me the proposition, blushing furiously and stammering.

"Kyran, I'm not talking about anything pornographic here," he rushed to explain, "I want you to understand that it won't require frontal nudity at all. It'll be taken from behind, with your face in profile. You'll hardly be recognizable. And I'm willing to pay you five hundred dollars for modeling this one session."

I was quite frankly flattered and having so much fun with his obvious discomfort that I couldn't resist picking on him a bit, so with all I had I fought back any indication of amusement. I theatrically stomped my foot and balled my hands into fists. With a humorously faked outrage, I verbally sailed into him.

"Willis Hamilton! What kind of a slut do you think I am? You've never said three words to me before today. And now you think you can walk up to me, offer me five hundred bucks, and I'm just going to shed my clothes for you?"

"Oh God, Kyran!" he pleaded, wringing his hands, and blushing yet more profusely, "I meant no disrespect to you. And I certainly wasn't making any moral judgments or implications as to your character. As I said, this is really an art project. I wasn't expecting to see anymore of you than absolutely necessary for the photo. And I assure you, it would have been very tastefully done. I know my request seemed presumptuous and in poor taste to you now. It's just that..."

"Well out with it!" I continued with the feigned assault, although now with a bit more curiosity, "It's just that...what?"

"The photo's going to be a black and white. With the lighting I have planned, you've got the perfect skin tone. For that reason alone, you're the perfect choice for the model. Well, that reason and one other..." 

As he hesitated, he looked down and started shifting gravel around with his shoe. The poor guy looked like he would have rather been standing on the surface of the Sun than going through this conversation.

"And just what would that one other reason be?" I asked him with a hint of a smile.

He hesitated a few seconds before answering. Finally, from somewhere deep inside him he forced out the answer in a near whisper. "Because I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

Okay, hate me if you will for being corny, but my heart just melted. From any other guy, it would have been just that, a corny pick up line. But it was obvious that he meant it. The poor guy had just opened up his chest cavity and handed me his heart. I moved up close to him and placed the palm of my hand on his still red cheek. It was actually warm to the touch.

"I'll do it, but I have two conditions." I said with a smile.

"What would they be?" he asked with a small smile of his own, finally daring to look into my eyes.

"The money would be nice, but I'd feel like a whore, or a porn actress. I'll settle for pizza and a movie instead."

"And the second," he asked with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Kiss me, right now." 

He did. And he did it well.

My lone venture into modeling happened that Friday night, and was a smashing success in more ways than one. As per our agreement, we had some delicious cheeseburger pizza, my favorite. So shoot me, I'm not Italian. We snuggled through a nice romantic comedy, and he bought me a box of Junior Mints and a Diet Coke. I was having a great time being with him and he seemed to be equally happy with me. When the end credits rolled, he actually got up the nerve to give me a couple sweet kisses. My heart was beginning to slip into his grasp already as we left to head to the studio.

Despite still being somewhat nervous, he had slipped into artist mode. He knew how he wanted this thing to go. He had it laid out in his mind, just as he had told me. His only other concern was to keep me from being in any way embarrassed. With this in mind, he had me disrobe in his upstairs apartment, and he left a thick white terrycloth robe for me to wear up until and after the shoot.

I must say, I'm no artist, but even I could tell that it was a great photo. As he said, it was taken from behind me, in low light, with an additional light source coming down at an angle from above and to my right. I was in a seated position, on a crushed velvet rug, leaning on my left hand. Both my legs were tucked in beside me, with the soles of both feet pointed back toward the camera. My right arm was pointed upward, my hand reaching out, palm up to the light source. Willis adjusted my face so that I was looking into the light. It looked like a sunrise was washing over me, and the contrast of light and shadow was amazing. It was true, as he had predicted that my skin tone was a factor. Through whatever magic of his profession he had used, my skin had an almost luminescent quality about it. His other prediction was also true. Because of the angle of my face, the position of my right arm, and the way that my hair was arranged, it was not quite readily apparent who I was. As good as the photo looked, that almost saddened me. It was artistic, yet at the same time, erotic. This man had seen this beautiful scene in his mind, with me as the focus of it, long before it had happened. The sheer romance of it all was undeniable.

As you might guess from my earlier allusion, Willis got to see that robe come off. I've got to tell you that this was far from my usual behavior. As, I said, there had been a guy before Will, but I had made him wait a long time before I let myself be talked into trying sex. But with Will, it just seemed right. He had made me feel so sexy and beautiful, like some kind of goddess. Thank God he had that apartment attached to his studio, or I would have probably jumped his bones right there on the floor. He was an incredibly sensitive and gentle lover, and let me say it was a great improvement over my first time. God bless him, he managed to give me two orgasms, one with his tongue and fingers, and one as he rode on top of me. After it was over, he held me so sweetly and thanked me over and over for giving myself to him, telling me how wonderful it was. He kept reassuring me that he didn't think less of me and that he didn't want a one night stand. He wanted a relationship with me. He dropped me off at my home late that night a happy girl.

After that night we were inseparable. We agreed to marry after we had saved up some money so getting started out wouldn't be such a financial burden. The respectives were not a problem. My parents loved Willis immediately. His parents were the salt of the Earth type that loved everybody, so I was an instant hit. Willis was doing a brisk business at his studio, and I was working as much as I could for my dad. We had a place to live right away. The apartment over the studio was actually quite nice and would be plenty big enough until we started a family. A little over a year later we were married, and after a romantic honeymoon spent in a secluded mountain cabin on a wooded lake we settled into married life.

It was a little under two years into our marriage that the cancer began to grow. It wasn't money. We weren't millionaires by any stretch, but then we were more than getting by. We could even afford a few luxuries after the bills and what we saved. No, it was that other nemesis of married couples. It was our sex life.

Now let me say, right off the bat, that it wasn't quantity. We were screwing like bunnies as a matter of fact. I also must say, as confusing as this may sound, that it really wasn't quality either. Willis always went to great pains to make sure I enjoyed the ride if you will. He wasn't inadequate as a man, in fact he was bigger than average, and he wasn't a premature ejaculator. So what was I bitching about you ask? 

Willis was a romantic. He was gentle and considerate, as I've said, sometimes to a fault. The sex was already getting vanilla. It was starting to get, at least to me, repetitive. To be quite frank about it, we needed to get our kink on. Mind you, I wasn't advocating joining a swingers' club. I didn't want to tie my husband up and make him watch while I banged some stranger. I certainly didn't want to share him with some cute chick, even if he agreed to do so, which would have caused me to die from shock. 

I did the usual things. I bought scandalous lingerie. I wore racier underwear, sometimes no underwear at all. I did away with my usual pantyhose altogether in favor of garter belts and stockings. The few pairs of pantyhose I kept around were special. They had a low cut French waist and were crotchless. With them, I could wear a shorter hemline without showing a stocking top. Business did pick up, especially when I wore these items to bed. Will also approved of my newly shaved cunt. We got a book on different sex positions. We went so far as to try some light bondage. These things worked to a degree, but I still felt like pushing things a bit further.

I tried introducing the idea of maybe watching a little porn together. Will didn't really like the idea and it actually worked against me. It made him uncomfortable and ruined the mood. I pushed things into the area of role play. Will valiantly gave it a go, but it was a mixed success at best. As hard as he tried I could tell that his heart really wasn't in it. One memorable evening, I pushed the whole role play thing over the edge, and I found out just how much I was up against with this guy.

The dust up was over Carrie Wilson. Carrie was a blonde, bubbly girl who was currently attending the same community college classes that Will had attended. You see, Will on occasion had to do some traveling around to the county schools. The class pictures and yearbook photos that he took on these days, along with the packets of pictures that the kids took home for their family every year, were a very lucrative side line. The small bit of travel required hardly ever resulted in any overnight stays. The problem was, of course, that his absence left the studio unmanned. Even if I had been unemployed it wouldn't have been much help. I was clueless about photography. So Will had approached his former professor about anyone interested in a job at his studio, part time. The professor gave Carrie the nod with great enthusiasm. She was equally enthusiastic at getting a chance to make a little extra money while honing her own craft. It was a win-win all around.

I would have been much less enthused if I had not trusted Will with my life. Carrie was a knockout. She was petite, barely over five feet, but her slim, shapely legs looked a lot longer than they were. She had an impressive set of boobs for a girl her size and she definitely filled out the seat of her jeans well. She had hair so blonde it was the color of corn silk, and it was long, straight, and thick. Her skin was tanned, and her eyes were crystal blue. She wore hardly any makeup on her stunning face, Hell it would have been superfluous. She was a head turner to say the least. I was as straight as they come and I would have damn near slept with her.

Her personality was, everybody said, her best feature. The girl was so sweet, it almost made a cynic nauseous. She seemed unaware of her beauty, making self deprecating comments when anyone brought it up. It was widely known that she lived under a pretty strict moral code, although she wasn't "holier than thou" by any stretch of the imagination. She had an active social life and lots of friends, male and female, but nobody seemed to be on the inside track. One of her best assets, which Will was quite delighted with, was her ability with children. They universally loved her. Will photographed a lot of them, and they could be a handful, babies especially. Will was good with them mind you. As a matter of fact, I often jokingly referred to him as the "Baby Whisperer" after seeing him in action a few times. Carrie surpassed even him. Sometimes even when he was in the studio he would call her in if he had a heavy load of small children scheduled.

On the memorable evening I've referenced, we were feeling a bit amorous, due in part to a large bottle of wine. As I said, my motor was running, and when things took a decidedly hot turn I decided I might throw a little gasoline on the fire. I seductively whispered in Will's ear that maybe he might like to let me stand in for the role of Carrie tonight. The reaction was both immediate and unsuspected. It was also intense. I felt his whole body tense up as he suddenly jumped up from the sofa beside me.

"Kyran, that's about enough." Will hissed through clenched teeth, "If I wanted to be with Carrie Wilson, she'd be here and not you. You're my wife, not her. I love you, not her. For some damned reason that I can't figure out, you want to bring other people into our bed, at least in your mind. That makes me uneasy. In my mind, when a person gets comfortable with mental adultery, the physical kind soon follows. Also keep this in mind. I have a working relationship with Carrie. If I allow those kinds of feelings to start taking root, they're going to affect that relationship. She's a perceptive girl, and she'll pick up on it. It will either make her uncomfortable, and she'll quit, or she'll be encouraged, which is worse. What if she started coming on to me, God forbid, and it somehow negatively affected our marriage? It's you and me, or it's nothing at all. Why in God's name am I not enough for you now? What is supposed to be the attraction for you in me pretending you're someone else?"

I was floored and frustrated, but I quickly recovered. I managed to get him cooled down, but I realized that persisting in this vein was getting dangerous. I decided that advice should be sought, since I just kept fouling things up. So I brought the matter before the council of my closest female friends, whose discretion could be counted on. A couple of them jokingly suggested a lover, but they were doing just that, joking. Their advice was varied, from trying trips to different romantic settings, to other well intentioned fire starters. To one thing there was a general consensus. They one and all agreed that I was nuts. The lecture I got from Julie, my lifelong best friend, could serve as a general template for all the others.




Tease the Bull...Payback!



Here we go again! Perhaps some will see me as a glutton for punishment, but I really do want to contribute to the entertainment of the readers of this site, in much the same way as many of my favorite authors have entertained me. I hope this humble offering will address the desire of some kind readers who wished to see some type of closure with the characters. I hope you all enjoy this one a bit better than my initial offering. It would be helpful, if you have the stomach for it, to read the initial story first. Again, constructive criticism is more than welcome and valued.





Tease the Bull...Payback!



"Carrie, I just got a sinking feeling." I said with a sigh. "Maybe what's going on doesn't require her to leave her building. Maybe she's assisting in a lot more ways than is usually required. Maybe it's time I take over surveillance while you run the studio. I know what floor she's working on and there are those big floor to ceiling windows in her office. Maybe I can set up across the street and look right in there. You see, Kyran has told me that her boss has a bedroom and bath in that suite. I might see them going in there for a suspicious length of time. I might not catch the full details, but maybe I can get a hint as to what the problem is. If what I suspect is going on, I don't want you subjected to seeing it. I'm a big boy, I can take it. As a matter of fact, I need to see it. I'm crippled and blinded by love here. If she's betraying me, and I see it with my own eyes, the blinders will come off. I won't hurt her physically, I could never do that. But I'll come down on her like the wrath of God, nonetheless."

"Just don't do anything stupid Will." Carrie cautioned, looking into my eyes while holding my hands, "Living well is the best revenge. Life's a big wheel. What goes around comes around."

"I promise little lady." I said with a smile that was only partly forced, "It would suck big time to have to have our little talks through two inches of bulletproof glass with me in orange pajamas."

God was with me. I was able to find an empty office directly across the street. With my camera set up on a tripod, and with a telephoto lens attached that would let me zoom in on a pimple on somebody's ass if they had one, I settled in to wait. It wasn't a long wait. Either these people were stupid, incredibly arrogant, or a combination of the two.

I couldn't see much the first day, because a lot of the action took place in that bedroom. Believe me; enough went on in the office proper to let you know they weren't playing Texas Hold 'Em back there. It wasn't just my wife and her employer either. I had heard my dear wife talk about the little brunette receptionist, Libby Fielding. My wife had called her a floozy and said she was probably bisexual. Well, surprise! So, apparently was my lovely bride, although floozy might be a bit too mild a term for either of them. The bisexual part was beyond appropriate for the both of them, however.

On day two, I hit the mother lode. All the action took place right there behind the big man's desk, in front of the window, and I got the whole thing. A memory card in a digital camera will hold a world of heartache; I'm here to tell you. Strangely enough, I was feeling completely different than I thought I would. I was angry, sure. I was also hurt. I felt disgust and contempt. I damn sure didn't get a hard on. I didn't shed a single tear, though my eyes did water up a bit. I just felt, well, numb. I guess a lot of that was due to the fact that I already knew, deep down inside, what I was going to find out here. One thing I did feel for sure was a deep need to make all three of them hurt like I was.

Step one was to make copies of all those damning photographs. One set went right away into a safety deposit box that Carrie rented. I stored the rest in a safe place and sat down to plot the mayhem that was coming down. I had to do this smart. I wanted to come down on the three of them like hard times, but I needed to look out for me first. When I did hand down retribution, it had to be choreographed. I wanted to move things like the pieces on a chess board. Maximum damage to them was good, while doing so with minimum blowback on me was even better. Since my dad was a former active duty Marine, he had taught me a few things. First and foremost was that I needed recon before I attacked. One of these people, I knew pretty well, obviously not as good as I had thought, but you get my meaning. The other two, especially King Big Dick, needed some study. I wanted to find the chinks in their armor, and I wanted to figure out how they would react when the heat was on so I could stay a move ahead.

I got a nice little bit of information when I looked into Libby Fielding. Her old man was a long haul trucker. He was one of four brothers and they were a hard lot. They were the type that lived by the feud and crossing them would likely result in major hurt to the offending party. I had the sneaking suspicion that Mr. Fielding wouldn't be the type to sit back and willingly share his lovely little wife with anybody. Here was a pressure point that I wasn't aware existed before and I quickly saw that I might be able to put Big Dick's ample balls very firmly in the pliers, much to my benefit.

As far as things on the legal front with me and the soon to be ex wife, that was simple. The Commonwealth of Virginia was community property in divorce matters, but she was walking with bupkus, other than her personal effects and automobile. She made good money. Let her start over. I was the offended party here. I reconsidered and decided to let her have half the savings and checking. There was no credit card debt, as we paid the balance each month. I wasn't being generous with her, it's just that I was planning on receiving a windfall she would have no part of and which would be off the books, so to speak. I wouldn't miss what little I gave up to her. Trust me, with what I had on her, she would play ball. As to that windfall, I quickly rejected the idea of some lame alienation of affection lawsuit. Even if it was feasible, it would be too public, too messy, and too time consuming. I had a better idea. Rather than one nuclear response, I favored three surgical strikes.

The first shot in the war was fired right after The Slut left for work the next day. In no time flat I had her gear packed, boxed, and on its way to the storage center. I also had a man changing all the locks on the doors. Next came the checking and savings accounts, dealing with changing the credit card over, a change in the beneficiary on my life insurance, and my will changed in a different direction. For obvious reasons, I also checked in with my medical provider of choice to be tested for STDs. Then it was off to the office suite of Mr. David Farris. I had to pray for the gods of timing to be with me here, and they smiled down on me. Out came my wife at close of business and I immediately headed up to Mr. Farris' office suite without her seeing me. The delectable Mrs. Fielding was obviously packing up to head out for the night as I breezed into the reception area like I owned the place. Without so much as a "by your leave" I headed past her toward the office door, and within a heartbeat, I had planted myself in the well upholstered chair in front of His Highness, King Big Dick.

"And just who the fuck are you?" he asked with a puzzled expression on his face.

"I'm Willis Hamilton." I informed him with a grin like a shark. "And if you're smart, you'll sit there, listen to me, and keep your mouth shut until I ask you to talk."

Oddly enough, he did. Oh, he wanted to talk. I could see the gears turning in his head as he wondered just what I knew, how I knew it, and could I prove it beyond his capacity for plausible deniability. I suppose he decided to let the string play out, to test my position, before he beat my ass and called for security.

"Now, big man," I began, as I fished an envelope out of my briefcase, "There are some very interesting pictures in there. I caught your...well, come to think of it, you don't have a good side. Neither does your receptionist, or my slut wife for that matter."

"So." He said with venom in his voice and contempt in his eyes, "You somehow got some good pictures of me fucking the help. It seems to me like they would be more of an embarrassment to you than they would to me. People are probably going to think you're not handling business very well at home. I would imagine they'll be proud of me for taking care of two hot women at one time. I won't even bother going into the invasion of privacy angle here."

"Are you shittin' me?" I asked incredulously, "How did a dumb motherfucker like you get rich? First, you're fucking two married women right in front of a glass window. You might as well have sold tickets, you pompous ass. Second of all, you think I'm going to be the embarrassed party here? I'm a self made businessman in this town and people know I'm hard working and moral. I don't drink excessively, drug, and run around on my wife. Her own family and friends know I've treated that woman like gold. She'll be seen as the whore she is. Folks will sympathize with me. Women will line up to "comfort" me. You, on the other hand, will be the poster boy for lowlife shits in this town. How are your business contacts going to see this? Here's a word for you. Try radioactive. Remember, this is a fairly small town, with the resulting small town morals. Things like this stand out here as opposed to, say, New York or Los Angeles. I bet you won't be quite so welcome in the social circle. Your presence already puts a strain on things as is. You're not exactly Donald Trump with the earring and the tats and the Harley."

"The next thing you need to concern yourself about is Mr. Fielding and the rest of the Fielding clan. I have strong suspicions that their reaction to these photos won't be litigation. I dare say that you're going to need a bulletproof vehicle and a security team to replace that Harley. To sum up, Mr. Farris, I've got you by the short hairs. Oh, excuse me, photographic evidence says you don't have short hairs. Let's change short hairs to ball sack."

"I've got two questions." He said, looking like someone took a healthy crap in his oatmeal, "How much are these pictures going to cost me? And how do I know you won't release them anyway?"

"Actually, David, you're going to get off relatively light." I said with a grin. "Being the artistic type, I've got a feeling for poetic justice today. You literally screwed a marriage that was almost three years old. So, in answer to your first question, that comes to three million dollars. That's a large amount to me, but a mere pittance to a high roller like you. Among those photos is the number of an offshore account. If the money is in said account by 10:00 am in the morning, you will get the second and final set of pictures. That is, of course, with the exception of a set that will be held in a secure location against the eventuality of my unfortunate demise of any suspicious nature. Just be glad Kyran and I hadn't been together ten or twenty years. One other thing, David. That set of photos will also be held to enforce a non disclosure agreement. The exchange of the three million stays between you and I. You tell no one. You especially don't tell Kyran. If that whore tries to come after it in a divorce settlement, the pictures come out. She also keeps her job. I'm damned if I'm paying her alimony to sleep around on me."

"As to your second question, realistically you don't know, you just have to trust me on that one. I really came out on the plus side here after all. I'm rid of a cheating slut, you're stuck with her, and I've got a three million vacation and retirement fund. I've got all I need out of you. There's no need for me to kick a dead horse. You might consider yourself ill used in your current position, but I will point out that if you had chosen to keep your sizeable penis zipped up you wouldn't be in this quandary. As a wise man once said, 'God gave man a brain and a dick and only enough blood to supply one of them at a time.' You clearly chose to follow the wrong one, and now it's time to pay the fiddler for the dance music."

"There's one more thing we need to discuss. I know, just sitting here looking at you, that you're going to be tempted to smash me, to impose your physical will at some point. I want you to know something, a bit of a warning. I've got a second hobby, although I haven't practiced it as much since I married. You see my dad and I love to shoot, and the old Marine taught me well. I still wager I can hold a five shot group that you could cover with your hand at a respectable distance. I've got a 1911 Colt and a license for concealed carry. She's a beauty. She's nickel plated with ivory grips. She has a match grade barrel, chamber, and trigger, and adjustable combat sights with tritium inserts. Her feed system has even been polished so those jacketed hollow points I use don't hang up and jam. Jacketed hollow points are bad news in general, but .45ACP hollow points make SUCH a mess. Even a big old boy like you would be toast after a double tap, center mass with a couple of those babies. If, after this evening's discussion, I see you coming my way, I'll turn your skull into a soup bowl. You may be a lot bigger than me physically, but Colonel Colt and John Browning made us all the same size, God bless them. I have a very simple philosophy, better to be tried by twelve than carried by six. A word to the wise is sufficient, Mr. Farris. You have a nice evening Sir."

Leaving his office, I imagined I now knew how General Grant felt when he took Richmond. Looking at my cell phone, which I had turned off while I bearded the lion that was David Farris, I noted about umpteen calls from my dear wife. I wasn't as yet ready to deal further with her, but I knew I had to throw her a bone until the right time. So I gave her a ring.

"Yes dear, it's your loving hubby. How may I help you?"

"Will, what's wrong? My key won't work. I can't seem to get into the studio or the apartment."

"Yes Kyran. That would be because the locks have all been changed. I would suggest that you try staying at your mom and dad's house tonight."

"But Will, honey. I'll need a change of clothes for work tomorrow. And why can't I stay with you at the apartment tonight?"

"Because my dear, you no longer live at MY apartment. You have no clothes, or anything else that belongs to you at MY apartment. Your clothes are in storage at the storage center along with the rest of your things. If you hurry over there you can pick them up right away. I would suggest you take your dad's pickup. It won't cost you a cent. The rent on the unit is paid up until the end of the month and is in your name. And please dear, don't try to insult my intelligence by pretending we don't both know why you can't stay with me tonight. I'll further ask that you not contact me again tonight, as I do not wish to talk with you. I'll meet with you tomorrow, at noon, at Roscoe's on the outside patio and we'll have lunch and discuss the situation, that is, if you can stop sharing your pussy with David Farris and Libby Fielding long enough to do so."

All I heard was a gasping intake of breath and the connection went dead. She was good enough to heed my wishes. Believe it or not, I slept the sleep of the righteous that night.

The next morning, I waited until 10:30 to see if David had decided to play ball. The money had indeed been placed into the account. I suppose he figured it was a relative bargain to avoid a shitstorm that would surely stain him badly, and would probably wind up costing him even more money than that in the long run. I proceeded to immediately move it again, just to cover any loose tracks. I had a smile on my face a yard wide. I had extracted at least one of three pounds of flesh. Now, no matter how things turned out between me and Kyran, I was going to be set. I didn't want to, but if need be I could pack up and move to a different city and start over in fresh surroundings. But with all my friends and family here, that didn't seem too attractive. Hell, if somebody needed to move, let it be them.

I arrived at Roscoe's at the appointed time, ordered an iced tea and an order of beer battered onion rings and sat back to wait for Kyran. If she had the balls to show up, I was ready to end this sham of a marriage. She arrived looking harried and sick. She declined my offer of food, but ordered coffee. I'm almost ashamed to say that made me feel a little swell of triumph. All was not well in Kyranland. For the duration of our conversation she had extreme difficulty looking me in the eye.

"I'm sorry, Will." She began with a halting voice and downcast eyes, "I knew this day was coming. It's my fault, first of all. This was nothing you did or didn't do. I pulled my own house down on my own stupid head with my own dirty little hands."

"Kyran, I just have to know." I asked her softly, trying to look into her eyes, "What the Hell happened? I know I'm not perfect, by any means. That being said, I loved you more than my own life. I would have gladly died for you. I did everything I could do to make you happy. The sad thing is that I thought you WERE happy."

"It's the same old story Will." She said sadly, looking down at her hands folded in her lap, "I was so deliriously happy with you. Somewhere along the way, I just got dissatisfied with that. I wanted even more. I've tried to tell myself that I didn't really want to start an affair with David. The truth is that from a strictly legalistic viewpoint, he did rape me the first time. When I go back and look at it in the cold light of day, it doesn't hold water though. I was flirting with him quite outrageously. The excitement I got from that flirtation I brought home to you, and therefore it was justified in my mind. What I now realize, much too late, is that it was all about me and David from the start."

"David saw through my little charade. He knew what I really wanted, and he decided to just cut through the bullshit. In light of what happened that day, and the events of the months following up until now, he was obviously proven to be quite the more self aware of the two of us. The truth is self evident, although it's very much painful now. I had no power to stop things that first time, that much is true, although it's still my fault that I was in the situation to start with. The simple fact is that it was good. It was forbidden, and wicked, and kinky, and I loved it. Still, I could have stopped it there, though I would have had some guilt to live with. The real damaging truth set in the second time, and then the third, and so on. I kept going back and doing it over and over again, because the sad fact is that I enjoyed it."

"I knew it was wrong. I knew I was acting in a depraved fashion. I was blissfully doing things that I would have been disgusted at seeing in others. And yet I still kept going back and doing those things, over and over. The worst part is not that I did them. The worst part of it all is that I loved doing it."

"No, that's not even right. The worst thing is that I knew what I was doing was going to hurt people who loved me. You, my parents, my friends, my real friends, were going to eventually find this out. Knowing that, realizing that I was going to eventually bring all that hurt and shame upon the people I loved, and still willfully enjoying my selfish, destructive, desires shows me in the cold light of day what a monster I've become. God help me."

"Well, Kyran, I'm at least glad that you've gained all this insight. Sadly, like most people in your position, your insight came way too late. It didn't show up until you finally got busted."

"I know that Will." she looked positively miserable now, tears running down her cheeks, "My position here is indefensible. Still, and I think I know the answer before I even ask this, is there any hope for us? I'll do anything. I'm already planning on getting professional help. I've already told my mom and dad the whole sordid story, though it nearly killed them. I don't love David. I still believe if we can maybe get counseling we can work this out. I still want to have your babies. I want us to grow old together. I know it's hard to believe, but I do really love you Will."

"Oh my God, Kyran." It was now my turn to look at the floor and shake my head as tears began to flow, "I prayed when I came here this afternoon. I knew I was probably going to hear things that I didn't want to hear. But I begged God to be merciful. I prayed that you wouldn't say the one thing that you just did."




Tease the Bull...Payback!



"You love me? Like Hell you do! What it comes down to Kyran is that somewhere along the line, you lost the capacity to love anybody but Kyran. Your own testimony condemns you. You were aware that this was going to see the light of day eventually. You even said that you were well aware how much it would hurt everybody who loved you when the truth came out. That wasn't enough to stop you though. Sweetheart, that's not love. Hell woman, I wouldn't even pretend to make love to another woman in our bed with your permission to do so. Why? My love for you wouldn't let me cheat on you, even in my mind."

"Let's consider something else your selfishness caused you to overlook. You've been having unprotected sex with not one, but two people, for months. Well, two people that I know of anyway. What if David or Libby has managed to infect you with HIV? Then right now I'm facing a death sentence. I went yesterday to be tested. Until I get the results I've got that little issue hanging over my head, as well as having this bullshit to deal with. For God's sake Kyran! Do you really think you're the only one they're knockin' boots with? Common sense will tell you that Libby's a married woman. She's at the very least sleeping with her husband. What if he's seeking out the comfort of various lot lizards while he's on the road? He's bringing that home to her, she's giving it to you and David, and then you're bringing it home to me. We haven't even looked at any other potential sex partners that David has. By extension, you've been forcing me to have unprotected sex with David, with Libby, and every possible combination of their lovers."

"Look, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by telling you that I don't love you anymore. I'm incredibly hurt and angry right now, and still a part of me realizes that I'll always love you somewhere deep in my heart. Here's the important distinction though. Because of what you've done, I'm no longer IN love with you. There's a vast difference in the two."

"Here's where we get to the other 800 pound gorilla in the room. I can't erase the pictures in my mind from watching the three of you at play. I shouldn't even have to point out that I was not a part of that and was not even given the chance to be. The point is, you took something that was supposed to be mine and gave it to two other people. I'll see that playing out in my mind, to a greater or lesser degree, until they put me in the ground. There's not a damn thing you can do to erase those mental images. Even if I could manage to stay with you and stomp those images down, I'll be resentful. I'll never be confident that I'm truly man enough to satisfy you again, now matter how much you try to reassure me. Every time you had an orgasm, I'm going to wonder if it's faked. When I'm making love to you, how am I to know that it's me you're loving, and not David Farris, all your protests notwithstanding? Those pictures are going to keep rising up to make your claims a lie. I would be living in an absolute psychological Hell. Do I even need to point out that I should never have been placed in this position to start with?"

"Here's one last thing that needs to be considered. How in God's name am I ever going to regain any trust in you after you shit all over what we had so selfishly? What possible guarantee do I have that I'm not going to come up short in your expectations again, and you're not going to respond by turning to someone else? For that matter, how do I know you're going to be where you say, doing what you're supposed to be doing? Do I fit you with an ankle bracelet? It wouldn't be long and you'd be resenting my suspicion, justified though it might be. My God, bringing children into such a witches' brew of resentment and suspicion would be unthinkable."

"So here's what's going to happen. Virginia is a no fault state, or Commonwealth if you want to get technical. We'll file under irreconcilable differences. The checking and savings accounts will be divided 50/50. The apartment and studio were my property before the marriage, and are required for me to earn my living. I will keep them. All your possessions and your car go with you. My attorney has advised me that if these conditions are agreeable to you, we don't even need separate attorneys, we can simply file through him. In six months, it'll all be over but the crying. In honor of what love I have left for you, I'm even willing to pick up your half of the legal costs. Now if you decide to buck me, let me warn you, things are going to get nasty. I have no desire to damage your reputation. You've already told me that your parents have an entirely new view of Kyran. Remember that I have photographic evidence of your little office romance. I will ensure that everybody important to you in this town sees those photos. Imagine the shock when they all see you, not only fucking another man, but having enthusiastic relations with dear little Libby. In short, my dear, I'd advise you not to fuck with me. Right now, I'm not the sweet Will you married. I've got more than a touch of monster in me as well, and you put him there. Let this thing die a natural death and let us go on with our separate lives. After all, who's to say what time will do? There's always the possibility that we can at least be friends when time does its healing, maybe more. The divorce is a foregone conclusion though. I need time and space to heal, and then we'll see what comes down the road."

"What else can I do but go along with your wishes?" Kyran said sadly as she cried her bitter tears, "Let me know when I need to be at the attorney's office and I'll sign whatever you want. I feel it's important that you know that I'll be looking for a new job immediately. For obvious reasons, I can't stand the sight of David and Libby now. I also pray that, in time, you'll find a way in your heart to forgive my horrible betrayal of a good man whose love I could never hope to replace."

I actually went to her and held her as she clung desperately to me and wept inconsolably on my shoulder, and I feel no need to apologize for doing so. I cried some myself. I cried for the death of a love that had been so right and clean and that held so much promise. Now that love lay dying, filthy and unclean. I knew in the deepest part of my soul that it would never be resurrected, like some Phoenix, from the ashes. All I could hope is that someday we might be friends in some form. I also prayed desperately that some good might somehow come of this pain and destruction.

I spent the following six months waiting for the finality of our marriage in much the same fashion as the time leading up to it. I buried myself in my work and my hobbies. Kyran called from time to time, or would even drop by the studio to talk with me. There were no angry recriminations on these occasions, yet there was a wide gulf between us that could not be bridged, and of this fact both parties were well aware. More uncomfortable still were the occasions when her parents or friends would seek me out and tell me that they were horrified by Kyran's conduct and would try to comfort me in some fashion. There was, amusingly enough, no small number of her sisterhood of friends who dropped subtle hints that they had more extensive comfort to offer. Chief among that number was Julie Howington, who had been Kyran's best friend since grade school. Julie was a hot number, to be sure, but I wisely managed to avoid stepping into that hornet's nest. A woman scorned is a dreadful thing. A red head scorned is a thing several magnitudes more frightful, and is not a thing to be casually stirred up.

My true source of healing had been right there under my nose all along. You guessed it, Carrie Wilson. She had been a Godsend from day one when the whole mess came crashing down around me. Had it not been for her, I shudder to think what would have become of both my business and me. She had been both a solid and caring friend and a stalwart confidant whose beautiful head contained clear and beneficial advice.

The change began, appropriately enough, on the day my nuptials were scheduled for final destruction. Carrie was, naturally, slated to man the studio while I was in court to oversee the final decree. She walked in that morning and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Carrie never dressed shabbily, to be sure, but today she had apparently decided to head off any gloomy feelings on my part by looking her absolute best, thereby forcing me to concentrate on avoiding a sexual harassment charge instead of feeling sorry for myself.

Her blond hair was as normal, straight and down to the middle of her back. Her lovely face was, again, pretty much its lovely normal self with just a bit of eyeliner and a light coat of red lipstick. It was from the neck down that things really got interesting. Her top was a sleeveless red knit and the view of her cleavage it afforded would give a dead man an erection. I immediately suspected those lush breasts of hers were being aided by a pushup bra here, not that such a thing detracted from the overall effect. Her skirt was black and tight, hanging about mid thigh. The legs below it were stunning, covered in black nylon. The question of whether said nylon was in stocking or pantyhose form was a course of study I would have damn near given my life for. Her tiny little feet were shod with shiny black stiletto heeled pumps.

"Am I going to have to call my lawyer?"

I looked up into her smiling face with a bemused expression on my own, clearly caught being a major horn dog. In my own defense, it had been a long time. If you show a starving man a filet mignon with all the trimmings, the poor bastard's mouth is going to water.

"What?" I responded lamely.

"I said, am I going to have to call my lawyer?" she still had that cute little smile on her face, "You know, so I can tell him my horny old boss is looking at me with lecherous intent clearly visible on his face."

"Carrie!" I protested, though without much conviction, "You just look...different from normal. You surprised me."

"So you weren't undressing me with your eyes just now?" she teased, still with that damn smug little smile.

"Okay! So shoot me. I was enjoying the view. Now are you going to keep breaking my balls about it? I'm just a normal, red blooded guy going through a long dry spell. You come in here looking, I'll admit, quite...attractive, and it got my attention."

"Well, it's about time!" she returned with vigor, "I thought I was going to have to do something really desperate like just shuck down to my birthday suit at close of business some day. It's called sending out signals, look into it. I know you've been down and had a lot on your mind, but it's time to wake up and smell the coffee. You're officially back on the market today, and I'm staking my claim now that you seem to be withdrawing your cranium from your anal orifice at long last."

To say that I was stunned would be the understatement of the year. I was standing there slack jawed and bug eyed, completely lacking capability of speech.

"My God, and we blonds are supposed to be dumb." She offered, crossing her arms enticingly under those delightful breasts, "Guys are so clueless sometimes. I wonder how y'all manage to survive through the average day. I've wanted you just about from day one, though I hid it pretty good from even myself. I'm no home wrecker. Marriage means something to me, even if the rest of the world gives it an awfully loose interpretation. Anyway, I can forgive you for your lack of awareness while you were married. As a matter of fact, if you had even looked like you were going to make a move on me then, I'd have been out of here like a shot, never to return, despite my feelings. However, these last six months I've done everything short of physically grabbing and shaking you to get you out of the "friend zone" and make you see that you've got a little blond hot on your trail. I've been terrified one of those floozy friends of Kyran's was going to get you in her talons. Now are we going to go out on a date and see if this is going to lead to you marrying me and fathering those six kids you're always teasing me about or are you going to break my sweet little heart?"

"Carrie, I don't think that will work." I said with a sad look on my face, as she looked crestfallen.

"I think three kids will actually be plenty."

"You asshole!" she screamed joyfully, as she flew into my arms.

Within a year, Carrie and I were married. I suppose it was a foregone conclusion once I woke up to the obvious. Carrie was everything that Kyran was not. I felt like I could trust her with my life. She was actually a much better fit for me than Kyran in a lot of ways. We had more in common in our hobbies and interests. We're currently planning a book of our more artistic photos for instance. She was even much better suited to me sexually.

Sexually speaking, she was a surprise right off the bat. Believe it or not, my smokin' hot little blond was a virgin. What she lacked in experience, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Her body was beautiful, petite and ample at the same time, if that makes sense. She was incredibly responsive as I touched, licked, kissed, and nibbled every delightful inch of her. God bless her heart, she was up for nearly anything I wanted to try. Within a couple attempts, she could give a blowjob that would damn near kill me, it was so good. The first time I performed oral on her, she was damn near speaking in tongues, after a fashion. I was almost afraid to try the more exotic stuff with her, but nothing seemed to embarrass her. I introduced her, cautiously, to the foot sex stuff that Kyran brought into our relationship, and Carrie loved it much to my delight. Like me, she was just about pleasuring the one she loved, whatever that required. There was no need for third parties, real or imagined. Other than that, all other options were open. With each passing day, she has helped heal that open wound that Kyran left in my soul a little more. We look forward with great delight to starting our little family soon. She'll be a superb mom. With every fiber of my being I will dedicate myself to letting her know, in both word and deed, that she is the love of my life. I will do so every day until they plant me under six feet of Virginia dirt.

As for Kyran, we never became what you would consider friends. She actually left town a little before Carrie and I married. Kyran's mother had frankly told me that she had left for two major reasons. Her reputation had obviously taken a severe hit after the scandal broke open, and she felt like she was constantly under a cloud each day. Her mother had also told me that her major reason was frankly more to do with me. Her daughter realized she had blown it. She was still clinging desperately to the hope that she might get a second chance, and that seeing me more and more in love with Carrie each day was nearly killing her. Kyran could have weathered the scandal part, if only she had me, but it was clear to her that it wasn't going to happen. She found a good job in Tennessee and was trying to rebuild her life. I told her mom with all sincerity to send her my wishes that she would find love and happiness, that I bore her absolutely no ill will, and that I forgave her unconditionally.

Of course, my little story would not be complete without a mention of Mr. Farris, now would it? Life was not so kind to him. He was speeding home one night on his big Harley and was, in fact, just a quarter mile from his home, on the access road leading to his secluded home. The big guy never saw the steel cable with the black coating stretched across the road hung right at the level of his upper chest and neck. By the time his body hit the road, his second and third cervical vertebra had snapped and David Farris was stone dead. Of course, the police and the medical examiner had no clue about the cable, and his death was ruled an accident. How then do I know about the cable? Well, I'll wisely take the 5th on that question.

Oh, and Libby Fielding? Well, it seems that she disappeared a few days after Mr. Farris met his untimely demise. No one has a clue where she is. Well, I have a strong suspicion her husband and/or his brothers might. I just hope it had nothing to do with those photographs some anonymous person left in the cab of his truck. Again, I'll take the 5th.



Tease the Bull...



"Kyran, I've got to say that you're really not making a lot of sense here." She said as she held my hands. "You've got a great husband. He's cute. He doesn't abuse drugs or alcohol. He doesn't gamble. He works hard and brings the money home to you. On the other hand, he's not so wrapped up in work that he neglects you. Far from being abusive, he's always worshipped the ground you walk on. You've told us all how he's always so romantic, always doing things to let you know he loves you. For Christ's sake woman, you've admitted yourself that he's even good in bed. I've got to admit that, sorry kid, I'm pretty much like Willis on this one. I'm wondering just what the hell it is you want the guy to do, beyond what he's doing already. Ninety nine women in this town out of a hundred would run you down in a heartbeat to be in your shoes. Trust me girlfriend, if you do something stupid and let that man slip through your fingers, he won't fall very far. Hell, your replacement could be working right beside him in that studio as we speak!"

Needless to say, that got my attention. After a few doses of this same general medicine, I started feeling like a bit of a bitch. I had pretty good success from that point on in being satisfied. The old feelings would surface from time to time, but I'd fight them down and all would return to normalcy eventually. Of course Fate soon decided to be a bitch herself and test me further.

My dad had decided the time had come to hang up his hat in the business world. He wanted to retire while he and mom had the health and the good years left to enjoy some relaxation and travel. While I was happy for him, it did present a problem. It was going to leave me unemployed. Fortunately I was not without marketable skills. My next job opportunity presented itself in short order. A local business executive was in need of an assistant. The job involved mostly "gofer" work, some light secretarial duties, and help in arranging travel and hotel reservations. My dad, while not a personal friend, at least had some passing acquaintance with the gentleman, Mr. David Farris. If my sterling resume failed to get me the interview, then a word from dear old dad must have. In a few weeks time I had a new job with the added advantage of a higher salary and a nice benefits package.

I liked my new employer. David Farris was an astute businessman, but he wasn't cut from the usual corporate cloth. He wore his individuality like a badge of honor. Oh, he dressed the part, to be sure. He rocked the expensive suit, silk tie, and Italian leather dress boots with best of them. He favored dark colors, black, blue, and charcoal gray. There the resemblance to the rest of the herd ended. First of all, he was a big man. He was well over six feet tall and solidly built, with big hands. He was obviously no stranger to the weight room. Ruggedly handsome, he shaved his head, had dark brown eyes, and wore a well trimmed dark brown goatee, flecked with highlights of blond. His left ear was pierced with a brilliant diamond stud. He looked like Wall Street had collided with Sturgis at Bike Week. As a matter of fact, one of his favorite toys was a big Harley cruiser that he liked to ride on weekend excursions. He was still in his late thirties.

Like most big men, he was gentle and soft spoken for the most part. That being said, all but the blind could tell there was a storm brewing just under the surface, waiting for the right circumstances to set it off. Wise people did not trifle with David Farris. He was an excellent employer. Although not overly friendly, he wasn't a stuffed shirt either, and he would joke freely with both me and Libby Fielding, his secretary/receptionist. Libby was a cute little brown eyed brunette with an impressive rack and legs that could give mine a run for the money. She wore her hemline conservatively, but she looked like she had been poured into her skirt and her cleavage challenged decorum to the limit. She was one of those women who gave the impression they were flirting with you, whether they were or not. With Libby this was not gender specific either. I often felt like she was undressing me with her eyes but I didn't make much of it. Like me, she was married, although I had no idea what her husband did for a living. At any rate, her work station was just outside the suite where David and I worked and I didn't see her a great deal during the day.

The aforementioned suite was impressive. The two walls at the corner were floor to ceiling glass. David's big desk sat right in front of the view. He could face his desk or swivel around and stare out the window as he desired. My desk and computer were several yards in front of him, though my desk faced the door. The floor of the suite was richly carpeted, the walls were impressively paneled, and the furnishings were obviously expensive. Oak and rich leather were everywhere and the air was always slightly scented with the smell of the vanilla flavored tobacco David smoked in his briar pipe. I noted that he had a different one for each day. He also kept a couple crystal decanters of Scotch and Bourbon on an oak bar which had an installed icemaker. Each of the decanters flanked a cut glass jar of his custom blended tobacco. The suite even had an attached bedroom and bath with a generous closet in the event that David wished to work late and just stay for the night rather than drive home. 

Things at work and at home took on a usual pattern. At both places, of course, there were the usual annoyances but nothing beyond fixing relatively easy. Will and I had even started talking about becoming parents. I now had good medical insurance, and with our respective moms, two baby sitters built in. We decided to give it about two years to ensure that my job was secure and that there were no problems we had not considered. The thing that made me uneasy was the nagging, restless, lack of complete satisfaction in our marital bed that continued to crop up on a limited basis. I just decided to deal with it in the same fashion as I had up to this point. Surely, I reasoned, it would all work out. Love does, after all, conquer everything in the end does it not?

My downfall began soon after, one cool but sunny Friday afternoon. My king sized employer had decided to spend the weekend riding his bike, and planned to knock off at the noon hour to start the trip. He had actually rode to work that morning, changed into his suit and tie, and was going to return to denim and leather when he left for the day. He came out of his bedroom appropriately attired, black leather jacket thrown over his shoulder, and leaned back against the front of his desk to make a call on the office phone. I couldn't help but notice the difference in him. He was wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt with the logo of his favorite band, Motorhead, depicted on the front. The tattoos were now visible on his muscular arms. The diamond in his ear had given way to a silver stud. The boots were also changed to heavy black riding boots. It was the faded skin tight jeans that proved to be the real source of interest. 

Like a moth drawn irresistibly to a flickering flame, my eyes locked onto his crotch and upper thigh. There was a very prominent bulge. It was apparent, especially from the length of the bulge along his thigh, that one of two things was true. Either David Farris had a banana in his pocket, or he was packing some serious equipment. I had a strong suspicion that the latter was more likely the case. Blushing furiously, I finally managed to avert my gaze and tried to get my mind back on my duties. As if!

After David had finally left the office, my mind started doing its devious best to prevent a return to business. The inevitable questions began in my mind. Just how long was it? How big around? What would it look like? What would it feel like? Before long I found myself in the restroom, with my fingers attacking the small swamp that had appeared between my legs. That held me until I got home, whereupon I proceeded to practically rape my husband. Will received a very pleasurable weekend out of the whole thing, although I was just a trifle guilty that in my mind it was David Farris who was doing me the honors.

It goes without saying that things changed Monday morning. I would catch myself looking at the big guy a lot more often, and certainly in a new light. When he was in his suit pants, his bulge wasn't as noticeable due to the fuller cut, and I found this a mixed blessing. Of course, the little glances were clandestine. I couldn't let this thing become obvious. This, in turn, led to a new and heretofore unnoticed discovery. Since I was paying him more attention, I saw what I had probably failed to notice before. David was also looking at me. 

It started with a mere glimpse in his direction, out of the corner of my eye. I noticed his gaze fixed in my direction. I was sitting at my chair, in front of my desk, sitting slightly sideways. I was wearing a skirt and my legs were crossed at the knee, the shoe on my right foot dangling down. David was scoping out my legs and quite possibly my foot as well. To mischievously test more fully the source of his interest, I began moving my foot up and down and in a slight circle. Oh yeah, I could see his eyes lock in on my foot in its orbit.

"Why that big kinky devil," the thought ran through my mind, "he's a leg man. But it seems he's got a bit of a foot fetish as well."

I had educated myself fairly thoroughly on a few of these things. You remember I was trying to find reasonable ways to light Will's fire. I had read that this was actually one of the most prevalent fetishes in men. At that point, it suddenly dawned on me the naughty things David was probably imagining doing to that foot, along with the rest of me quite probably. My whole body was tingling with excitement at that knowledge. My pussy was getting nice and moist and my nipples were standing up like pencil erasers. The whole day went this way. Mixed in with my work, I would casually cross and uncross my legs. I would dangle my shoe enticingly from my foot, then set my foot back on the floor and hide it once again in the shoe. Once, I "accidentally" dropped the shoe off my foot altogether. Then of course, I had to find it again with my toes and slide it back on. This whole performance was not lost on the man sitting across the office.

In the past, I would have been blissfully unaware of his interest. But now, things were different. I was watching him more closely, and in a different way. Of course there was the added factor that this was not an innocent thing on my part. I was actively courting the big guy's notice. Still, I had to respect him for his self control. He wasn't ogling me. He was doing his level best to appear uninterested. But I noted with amusement, and not a small amount of horniness, that it was a battle he was losing. The resulting sense of control, of dominance over the big man, coupled with my naughty fantasies about his big package had me running at full steam. I took that mental cauldron of forbidden stimulation home to my hubby that evening and dumped it on him, much to our mutual delight.

All it took was some gentle manipulation of my husband's good nature to introduce the new fantasy into our sex life. Of course, I had to let him remain in the dark as to just exactly why it happened, for obvious reasons. I was still in my office clothing when we ate our evening meal, with the exception of my jacket. When we had finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, we headed to the big sofa in the living room to relax with a glass of wine. I had an idea that might possibly work.

It was so simple. All I had to do was tell Will that my feet were hurting. He acted just as I suspected he might. In less time than it takes to tell I was stretched out the length of the sofa with my feet in Will's lap getting a foot rub. Before long, I was rubbing the other foot into Will's crotch. One thing led to another and we wound up naked, though I left on my stockings and garter belt. Will and I were reclining, facing one another, our heads resting on the opposite cushioned armrests. He was still gently massaging my right foot and it felt heavenly. It was at that point that I took the sole of my other foot and began to slowly and gently slide it up and down the length of my husband's hard cock.

"My God, Kyran," he whispered as his eyes rolled upward toward the ceiling, "that feels wonderful. Please, I beg you, don't stop."

"Oh, you like that do you?" I teased, "Well, I'll keep going But it's going to cost you..." 

"Anything Baby," he moaned lustily, "I'll do anything for this. I've never felt anything like it. My God, that feels like nothing I've ever felt before."

"So you like my feet do you," I asked in my sexiest whisper, "Well I want you to prove it to me. Take that foot you're massaging. I want you to kiss it. You have to do a good job now. I want it kissed all up and down. Each little toe too. Kiss and lick all up and down. Worship it for me. If you're a good foot slave for me, I'll give you an extra special treat. But if you don't, I'll have to stop what I'm doing for you. Now you don't want that do you?"

"God no, Baby," he pleaded, "Just tell me if I'm not doing it right and I'll do better."

It was so amazing watching my straight laced husband kissing, licking, and nibbling away at my nylon covered foot, while his hands rubbed up and down my leg. It was even more amazing that he was quite obviously enjoying doing so. He even managed to push his tongue in between the toes, despite the nylon covering. It was such a turn on that I began teasing my nipples with the fingers of one hand while I stroked the wet slit of my pussy with the fingers of the other. Of course, I probably don't need to tell you that, before too long, in my mind it was David Farris on the other end of that couch.

After bringing myself to a mind blowing orgasm. I finally decided to reward my little slave. Taking my foot from his face I brought it down to his crotch along with my other foot. I turned the soles of my feet sideways and captured his hard cock between the arches. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed I began sliding my feet up and down. Will loved it, all the while moaning and bucking his hips. It was probably just a few minutes before he suddenly gave a strangled cry and arched his back as thick spurts of semen shot out of the head of his cock.

"Merciful Heavens, girl," he exclaimed a few moments later as he cleaned up his abdomen and my feet and legs with a wet cloth. "That was absolutely fantastic. Was it fun for you too?"

"You betcha it was," I giggled, "You make an awfully good foot slave. Just wait 'til I tell all our friends how you like to worship my smelly feet."

"Kyran," he gasped, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh really?" I teased, "I think you know me better than that. But perhaps we can come to an arrangement in exchange for my silence. Maybe we can put this into regular use in the rotation if you get my drift. Of course, I won't abuse the power I have over you too much."

"Gladly my Gaelic Queen," he teased as he kissed the top of each foot lovingly, "and by the way, your pretty little feet are not at all 'smelly', thank you very much."

"I notice you're still 'standing at attention' dear hubby," I said casually, "I've got a warm, wet place for that if you're interested."

"Actually darlin' I can think of two warm, wet places on you that might fit that description." he said with a leer.

"Oh, so that's the way of it, is it?" I laughed, "Feeling frisky tonight are you? Very well then, but if you get my mouth, then it's only fair that I get to ride that beard. Then we'll see if you can take care of that second warm, wet place."

The night was such a smashing success! Will had questions obviously. Where had I come up with that kind of naughty idea, he wondered? I simply told him the slightly modified truth. I was simply reading some erotic research material in an effort to keep things hot between us. And although there was some deception involved overall, I felt it was justified. My fantasies about David Farris were just that, fantasies. As long as I never acted on them, no harm, no foul. I came home to my Will all fired up, enjoyed the naughty aspect of it, and we both were satisfied. In fact, Will got to the point that he would get a very firm erection in the morning when he watched me put on my stockings or pantyhose. I would tease him unmercifully, allowing him to briefly worship my feet, then tell him he couldn't have his "special treat" until that evening. By the time we got together at night we were as hot as a ten dollar pistol. 

As for Mr. David Farris, I knew I had to be careful in my daily torture sessions. There was, obviously, a line I could not cross. While, as I mentioned, David would joke somewhat with me and also Libby, there was no sexual banter. He was pretty much all business in that office. That did not mean I could not escalate the campaign as needed. If I sensed things were getting out of hand I would just back it down a notch or two for awhile and all would be well. I had to keep him interested in my little game. I was getting off on the "dominance" I had over him. I knew that on some level it was frustrating him and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. However, I assumed he had a lover or lovers, so I wasn't exactly being cruel. He was just going to have to vent in the evenings, with someone else being the recipient, as was I. 

My workday became so much fun I should have been paying David. My flirting was subtle, but intent. Before I walked into the office, I would stop at the lowest level restroom in the building. I would roll up my skirt waist a tad, so I could show a little more thigh. I would give him a button or two more cleavage. On occasion, I took to shedding my shoes altogether in the suite, parking them in front or to the side of the leg well of my desk. One memorable day, I went so far as to show him a little trace of stocking top as I did so. His eyes nearly popped out of his head for a split second before he recovered. On a few very rare occasions I would "accidentally" brush my breasts against his arm lightly.

At no time did any of this nonsense become verbal. I never said one word that could be misconstrued. I still avoided being caught looking at him, seemingly unaware that I was doing anything out of the ordinary. David, for his part, tried valiantly to do the same. But he was not always successful, much to my delight. I made the most of it. I was constantly horny as hell now. I nearly killed poor Will, but the poor fellow managed to keep up with me. The bad times were the weekends and the days when David went away on business trips. Even then I could manage to keep going fairly strong on memory alone, until I could get a fresh dose of my new "drug." I congratulated myself on finally solving the niggling little problem that had pecked away at my marriage as the weeks rolled on.

It was nearly a month later. It was Monday morning, and David had been out all the last week on a business trip. It had been nine days since I was exposed to the "drug" and I was feeling frustrated as hell. I chose my wardrobe accordingly that morning. The dress was a soft, sleeveless, black and gray print in one piece. It wasn't filmy or exceedingly flimsy so I decided with a hot flush to forgo a bra. I had a great pair of those wicked crotchless pantyhose in just the right shade for the dress, a silvery gray. I decided to forgo panties, of course, since about the only time I wore them anymore was when "Aunt Flow" was in town. A light silver necklace with a single diamond pendant and matching earrings went next, and I finished off the look with a pair of black pumps. I wouldn't be overwhelming him this morning. But the hem of that dress was high enough that he was going to catch considerable hell once I sat down, without me looking like a slut. My legs weren't the only thing that was going to catch his attention. The pantyhose had vintage reinforcements along the toe, heel, and sole area. These areas were still sheer enough to let him see my toes if I wiggled them for him, as I often liked to do. Yes, before an hour of the office day had elapsed, I intended to have David squirming.




Tease the Bull...



"He's already in this morning." Libby announced softly, as I entered her little domain. "He's his usual yummy self."

She gave me a knowing little leering smile.

"What the Hell." I thought to myself, "I can't believe she just said that. He'd probably boot her cute little possibly bisexual ass out of here in a heartbeat if he heard that."

David was sitting at his desk when I went in. He looked up, smiled and greeted me, and gave me a quick rundown on his past week as I filled his coffee cup and mine.

I had gone into my duties and was soon caught up to the point where I could begin having a little fun. I decided to start things off right. Today was going to be a shoeless day. Of course, I was going to make a pretty good production about removing them. Even though I'd only worn them a brief while, it would feel soooo very good. This would, of course, require a great deal of flexing of my feet and the wiggling of my toes. My sidewise glance at David was quite fulfilling when I reached the zenith of the show. He was quite obviously enjoying the view. I had returned my gaze to the paperwork on my desk. In my mind however, I had him helpless on his back, tickling the head of his large manhood with my nylon covered toes as he begged me to give him some relief. My entire center seemed to go warm as I felt that familiar wetness begin in my freshly shaved pussy. Clenching my thighs together sent an electric tingling through me. I had to calm down a bit. I was going to mess around and have an orgasm right here at the desk. That certainly wouldn't do!

My fantasy was interrupted by David's voice as he keyed the intercom.

"Mrs. Fielding," he cheerfully requested, "Would you be so kind as to hold all my calls for the next little bit. Also, make sure that I'm not interrupted for anything short of a fire in the building."

"Yes Mr. Farris." I heard her cute little reply, "Your wish is my command."

"Mrs. Hamilton, could I ask for your help with something?" he asked with a strange look on his face.

"Why certainly David." I answered hesitantly, catching a little late the sudden formality around here.

"I don't want to make you at all uncomfortable." he said as he strode toward the other room, "There's something back here I've just got to show you."

It was a strange request. I'd only been back in that area a few times, and never with him. But then the whole morning had been strange. There had been Libby's unusual remark this morning. As I had already mentioned, there was the weird formality to both Libby and myself. It all had me just a bit dazed. So without even thinking I just stood up and preceded him into the room.

It was then that I noticed something definitely out of order. As I stood beside the bed, David looming behind me, I noticed four black leather restraints. One was coming from each corner of the bed attached to black nylon rope. Before I could even react, in the sluggish state I was in that morning, David had swept down the zipper at the back of my dress and slid it over my shoulders. Before it even had time to settle around my ankles, he had flipped me upward onto the bed and started putting the restraints on my wrists.

Bewildered, ashamed, and blushing furiously, I made a vain attempt to get free and cover my exposed body. In no time flat I was bound, hand and foot on my back, legs spread wide. He had stuffed two large pillows under my neck and upper back so that my head was inclined. I noted that my feet were elevated as well.

"David please let me go." I looked up at him pleading. "I'm a married woman; you shouldn't be doing this to me."

"You're a married woman?" he looked down on me with a nasty little chuckle, "Why didn't you remember that while you've been teasing the hell out of me all this time?"

I was speechless for a moment, looking up in shock as he pressed on.

"You think I didn't see you watching me? Do you really believe that I was dumb enough to buy that all those things you were suddenly doing were a coincidence? Your dresses were suddenly getting shorter, showing me all that leg everyday. All that damn shoe play that was driving me up the wall too. And you knew it was getting to me when you'd wiggle your sexy little feet and toes around as well. Hell, you even brushed your tits on my arms a few times."

"David, I'm so sorry." I tried desperately to plead with him again, "I don't know what got into me. It was just some silly teasing and I let it get out of hand. I never meant for things to go this far though. Turn me loose and nobody will know. I'll quit my job if you want."

"Oh, I know what got into you, or rather what's going to get into you." He replied softly as he slowly admired my body. "You ever hear that old saying, 'You mess with the bull, you get the horns?' Well Kyran, you teased the bull, now you're going to get the horn."

David began leisurely removing his clothing. In less time than I could have believed, he had stripped to his skin, placing his clothing neatly on the chair beside the bed. When he turned around and faced me I took a quick involuntary breath.

His body was tanned, well muscled, and heavily tattooed. He even had the six pack abs that men work out so hard to achieve. As scared and humiliated as I was, I couldn't help but look to that piece of flesh that had engineered my downfall. It was already proudly erect. It had to have been nearly ten inches long with a slight upward curve. It was at least three inches longer than my husband's and considerably thicker as well. It was heavily veined with a large reddish purple head. His testicles were equally large. It was no real surprise that he had no hair anywhere on his body.

"David, for God's sake stop this." I cried out as I once again tried to back this fantasy, turned nightmare around, "I'll scream. Libby will hear me. I'll tell everyone who'll listen that you raped me. You'll go to jail. Just let me go home to my husband and all this will just go away."

"Got it all figured out don't you." He smiled triumphantly, "Actually, there are a few holes in your plan. First of all, I wouldn't count on sweet little Libby out there. Who do you think has been relieving all the stress you've been building up? Her old man's a long haul trucker and he just isn't around enough for a wild little unit like her. Hell, it was actually her that talked me into dealing you out some much deserved payback. Of course, the fact that she's batting for both teams might have a lot to do with her thinking. She's probably thinking with you tied up, she might get to come in and play a little herself."

"Now as for telling everybody, that would be a really bad move. You're thinking like a woman, not a man. How's your hubby going to feel when he finds out? Is he going to believe you? Let me ask you this? Since all this started, have you been fucking his brains out? Doing new things you didn't do in bed with him before. Hell, I can see right now that you're wearing, or not wearing, some awfully delicious things to work under your clothes. Young lady, that all screams affair to a husband."

"As for informing the police, that dog won't hunt either. Our little buddy Libby out there is all set to testify cheerfully that you and I have been doing some awfully naughty things that she has seen with her own eyes. For instance, she's seen you more than once coming out from under my desk, between my legs. She's seen you kiss me. She's seen you with your hand down in my pants. Of course, you two being such good friends, you've had to tell her all the juicy details so she could experience the fun without having to cheat on her husband."

"I know you're wondering why I'm going to do this. Well, I'll admit that I'm not exactly being a gentleman here. I wanted to fuck you silly the first time I laid eyes on you, to be sure. Normally, you would never have suspected that. You see, two things have changed. First, when you started this up I stopped seeing you as the innocent little businesslike wife I hired. Second and most important is the fact that I know damn well that you want this just as bad as I do. Just keep in mind, I didn't start this, you did."

I was quivering like a leaf in the wind as he casually strolled around all three sides of the bed, gazing lustily over every inch of my exposed body. My mind was racing with thoughts I never should have had to deal with. He was right, of course, about all of it. I had painted myself into a corner. He was going to have his way with me, first of all. Given the present circumstances, that much was unavoidable. It was also true that it was my own reckless behavior that had me in this mess. The third thing that was true was that I didn't have a prayer of doing anything about it after. He was right. If I cried rape, I'd look like a fool. No, worse than that. I'd look like a whore who had started up a fling with her boss, cheating on her husband, and then had tried to get revenge when said boss tried to end the affair. In my husband's eyes, my accusation of being forced into this would just look like damage control to protect my marriage from my own slutty behavior.

The practical side of my mind tried to rise up and save me. It told me that this was going to happen, that it was beyond my control. It advised me that in just a little while this would be over. I could get a new job and never come back here again. I could give Will some excuse for needing to change paths, and just live with the guilt of my actions. I would try and salvage some self respect, however. I didn't have to give him the satisfaction of me participating in this or enjoying myself at all. There was another part of my mind fighting toward the surface though. The part of me that had gotten me here to begin with wanted him to do things to me, and was damn sure going to enjoy it all. He was now kneeling on the bed in front of my right foot, that big cock only inches away from touching me. I thought of all the times I had dreamed of that very thing happening for real and felt myself slipping further toward the dark side.

"My God, Kyran." He hoarsely whispered, "Those sexy little feet of yours look so good. I've had to watch helplessly while you tortured me with them, and now here they are. They're all mine now. Guess what I want first Kyran?"

"What are you going to do David?" I asked in a croaking whisper, "Please don't touch me with your...big...thing."

"Mmnn, excellent idea." He whispered, "I bet that would feel so nice. Glad you thought of it."

What I had experienced in fantasy just a while ago at my desk was now somewhat being fulfilled. The irony was not lost on me that the shoe was on the other foot in this version, if you'll pardon a bad pun. His big hands held my foot securely while he began to slowly stroke his big cock up and down the sole. I could especially feel the bulbous head as it travelled along. He was quite obviously enjoying himself. I realized to my everlasting shame that, unfortunately, so was I. This was so deliciously wicked and wrong.

"Somebody please...help me," I whispered, unconvincingly, trying to push him away, "You...mustn't... do this to me. Oh, you're...an...animal. You're...a pervert."

"Oh Kyran?" he asked me with a dreamy smile on his face, "There's a question I forgot to ask you. I sincerely hope you'll say yes. I've been very curious all this time you see. Are you, perhaps, ticklish?"

"No!" I pleaded, "Please...not that. I beg of you!"

The answer to his question was, of course, yes. I was ticklish in a great many places, especially my feet. From my response, he knew it. He seamlessly added the new to the old. He merely released his right hand from holding my foot and began using it for his new purpose. The restraint and his left hand were enough to keep me helpless. He began rapidly scrabbling his fingernails up and down the sensitive arch at the side of my foot adjacent to the sole.

The response was just as he intended. I tried to fight it. I gritted my teeth. I did my best to pretend it wasn't bothering me in the slightest. A giggle slipped out, then a few more. I tried to wiggle my foot away to no avail, which probably only served to stimulate him even more. Seconds later, I was laughing full out, while my body bucked on the bed. He would move the attack to the sole next, right next to where he was still stroking his big cock. Then he would go back to the arch again. He would also tickle the sensitive area just below the base of my toes. He would stop tickling for a few seconds to give me a chance to breathe, and before I could even begin to take the time to beg for mercy, he would start all over again. I felt I was losing my mind. To my horror I realized that this was actually turning me on even more! My nipples were standing up, and my pussy was getting soaking wet. He finally stopped enough to let me get my breathing under control.

"I'm so happy we're doing this Kyran." David teased, still stroking slowly, "It's so fun. It feels even better than I imagined. It's so fun watching your sexy body thrashing around. Hell, you even sound great. You have such a sexy laugh when you're being tickled."

"David, please!" I begged shamelessly, "I can't take it anymore."

"Well, you do have another option." He advised with a grin.

"Wh...what do you mean?"

"I'll stop if you want to suck my dick instead."

"No! Not that. Please don't make me do that!"

"That was the wrong answer, Kyran."

With that, the attack was back on. I thrashed, I twisted, I laughed until I couldn't breathe. This time the breaks he gave me for breathing were further between and of shorter duration. Finally, after what seemed like hours, the maddening assault stopped. 

"Okay...I'll...I'll do it. I'll do anything. Just please stop tickling me!"

With that he began slowly coming up the bed on his knees toward me, a smile of lust mixed with triumph on his face. His big cock was actually swaying back and forth as he moved. This would hardly be the best blowjob I'd ever given. For starters, I'd never tried oral on a big one like this. There was also the fact that the position I was in was less than ideal for this. The position of the pillows behind me, I now realized with a crimson flush, had been thought out with that in mind. He planned that so I would have some freedom of movement so I could suck him. The crimson flush got even deeper as I realized that a very strong part of me wanted to suck that big cock. It was just so big and hard and...beautiful. It looked even better than I had imagined it in my fantasies. Now there it was, right in front of my face. I just gave up and let the depraved part of me take over.

I closed my eyes and began tentatively kissing and licking all along the underside. He helped me with this by slowly drawing it back and forth as I did so. When I reached the base I took each separate testicle into my mouth and softly licked and sucked them. Once I again reached the shaft he began drawing back so I could make my way toward the head. His right hand had reached down and he began to softly stroke my left breast. He would open his big hand up enough to nearly palm it like a basketball, and then he would softly pull his fingers up simultaneously, finishing this off with a gentle squeezing, twisting motion on my nipple. It felt heavenly. I began licking and teasing the underside of his manhood at the glans and was rewarded by hearing him softly moan. When I had finally reached the end, I opened wide and drew him in.

I could only handle a few inches of him, but I did my best, drawing him in until it hit my gag reflex. I tried to make up for the lack of depth by using my tongue to its best advantage. I was obviously scoring points by the sounds and facial expressions he was making. He decided to help me out by using his free left hand to stroke back and forth along his shaft as I sucked with abandon, my head travelling as far as its limited freedom to move would allow. I obviously was doing far better than I thought, because it didn't seem to take all that long. I suddenly felt his cock swell, and his body vibrate. I knew he was about to flood me and I did my best to prepare, choking up toward the head so I had room to swallow. I managed to swallow every trace of him as he trembled through his orgasm.

Suddenly, he was lying beside me. It was here that he surprised me. I expected him to be rough and uncaring with me. To the contrary, he began to softly and hungrily kiss me, our tongues entwined. He explored my ears, my neck, and began slowly kissing and sucking his way toward my breasts. I was in an absolute state of rapture as his mouth softly began to suck at my right breast. His hand left off its work at my left breast and began slowly tracing its way to my steaming wet pussy. His fingers had no sooner begun to strum away down there before I had a sudden and violent orgasm.

He was playing me like a musical instrument. I felt his hungry mouth and tongue eventually moving southward as his fingers continued to work. I was pitching my head left and right and babbling nonsensically. My pussy felt like it was boiling. When his skilled tongue finally began lapping away at my wet slit, it felt like the top of my head was blowing off. I lost count of the orgasms as he let his tongue and his fingers do a dual assault on my hot, wet sex. His tongue lightly tickled the sides and the tip of my swollen clit, while his large finger slid back and forth inside me, stroking away at my G spot. With yet another heavy orgasm, I nearly felt my consciousness slip away.

I soon thereafter felt him moving on top of me again, his large body moving to place his big cock at the entrance to my pussy. He began to tease me with it, drawing the head up and down along the sopping wet slit. Each time the head touched my clit, my hips would buck up toward him, in an attempt to capture him.

"Oh no you don't." he teased, "I'm not just going to stick it in. You've got to tell me you want it. I want to hear you say it."

"Oh, please David. I want it so bad. I need it. Please fuck me. I beg you to fuck me. Make me your little whore. Put your big, beautiful dick in my wet little married pussy and fuck me!"

He went in slow, giving me time to adjust to his size. I actually came as he was putting it in, before he had even bumped up against my cervix. After giving me a few moments to settle down he began slowly stroking away. He would gradually speed up, and then he would slow to a mere crawl. It excited me, filled me like never before. My rapture was now coming in waves, my body jerking in orgasmic delight as I thrust my hips up to meet him with each stroke. My God, it had never been like this before. I was so full; his big cock was hitting nerve endings that I didn't know I had.

Morality was a foreign concept now. I no longer cared. All I wanted was this feeling. I would do anything for it. I would have let David fuck me in front of Will, in front of my parents. Hell, I would have let him fuck me at high noon on First and Main, and give him a week to draw a crowd. My former plan to go home in shame and never come back was gone. I would be here every day, if he wanted. I'd work in nothing but my stockings and garter belt if he asked. I was his toy now, and that depraved thought only excited me that much more.

"Who does that sweet little hot pussy belong to now?" he asked softly, seemingly reading my thoughts.

"It's your pussy David." I moaned, "It's yours lover, whenever you want it."

David finally gave out a strangled moan, shuddered deeply, and coated the walls of my pussy with his cum. As he rolled off me with a sigh, I was greeted to a new surprise. Sitting in an armchair at the foot of the bed was Libby. She was naked, save for her stockings and garter belt, her shapely legs thrown up over the arms of the chair. The fingers of one hand played with a lush breast, the fingers of the other hand tickled away at a very wet pussy.




Tease the Bull...



"Well Kyran," she said dreamily, "That certainly looked like fun. I was very interested to note that your sexy little feet are extremely ticklish. You see, I'm a very skilled and enthusiastic tickler. I won't just use my fingers. I'll also use my tongue, my teeth. There's another fun little toy in the top of that closet as well, a nice electric toothbrush. You have no idea how much I can make you beg with that. I can't help but wonder. If you'll suck David's dick to escape being tickled, would you lick my pussy to escape it as well? You're going to be David's, but you're going to be mine too. Ah, work is going to be so much fun now. "

I had a pretty good idea that she was right. Especially seeing as how I had already begun to wonder just how those ripe, full breasts and that wet little pussy of hers would taste. Indeed, the picture flashed through my mind, me being HER foot slave. Me happily licking her juicy cunt as David banged away at me from behind, doggie style, and the equally delicious thought of seeing her eat me while he fucked her. I'm sure they would be tying me up from time to time still, but it would hardly be necessary. I'd do anything either of them wanted. I was now their bitch, their little slave. Though it will be my eventual doom, it will continue anyway, though I know it will cost me everything. The only thing that is now unsure is how long it will be until the truth comes out. I have the sad feeling it won't be, but I hope it's a long time.

The following story is my maiden voyage, my virgin attempt, if you will. This being the case, I strongly desire the input of those who like the offering and those who wish to offer constructive criticism. Here again, if you're going to critique my offering, I'm a virgin after a fashion. So be gentle. I love to write and I want to get better at it, so please help me do so...

Tease The Bull...

By Cueball961

I've destroyed my life. I don't want to sound overly dramatic, but it's true. Oh, the damage hasn't yet set in. But it will, and when it does it will be devastating. And there will be lots of collateral damage. The sad thing is that the damage to me will be relatively light. Yes, my reputation will take a major hit. People will hate me and talk about me behind my back. I will be an object of scorn and derision, and the more moral of my acquaintances and family will shun me. These things I'm ready for. I realize realistically that I put myself in this position so it's only fit that I suffer for my actions. I started the ball rolling and now I have to be a big girl and face the consequences.

What's going to happen, but is so terribly unfair, is that people I love are going to be hurt as well. It hurts me that I will be responsible for that. It especially hurts that I could have kept this from happening in the first place. What disgusts me the most is not that I let this happen, but that, knowing all the above, I will most assuredly let it keep happening. At this point, I realize that I just can't, or truthfully don't want to, help myself. I enjoyed a full meal of the forbidden fruit and I already hunger for more. It's not rational. It's destructive behavior. You don't say you love people and then willingly hurt them with your selfishness. Maybe I'm somehow psychologically damaged, especially considering how much I've changed. Then again, maybe that's just another excuse to let me keep destroying my reputation and loved ones. At any rate, the truth will come out. As far as I know, only three people know the circumstances at this point. That's two too many. Wasn't it old Ben Franklin that said "Three can keep a secret if two are dead?" That I'm one of those three is no real comfort. There is always the strong likelihood that my own guilt will betray me. So at some point, I will be found out. It's as certain as the next sunrise. And it will probably happen sooner rather than later.

My name is Kyran Hillman Hamilton. The name of my town isn't important, as you've probably never heard of it anyway. Concealing that bit of information will also serve to help protect the innocent. I've lived in this town all my twenty plus years. I was the typical small town girl, nothing above average. Yes, I was always pretty and popular. My dad was a business man and we were not rich, but far from poor. I had the usual friends, the usual social life, and had the usual "crushes." I was athletic, playing softball and basketball, but I didn't let sports consume my life. Strangely enough, I didn't date many jocks. For the most part I found them to be arrogant asses, and I didn't want to be just another notch on a belt. I was a good student, but I wasn't exactly a Rhodes Scholar either.

I was considered a catch. I'm tall at 5' 11" and with a nicely curved figure. I show my Irish blood with long fiery red hair, green eyes, and creamy skin. Yes, I'm what the more irreverent in society today call a "Ginger." It's somewhat annoying if you're concerned about getting a tan, but that's never been on my list of important things. That's why they make sun block. My breasts are not overly large, a "B" cup just slightly over an "A", but I have those puffy, pink aureoles and sensitive nipples that guys like. My waist is slim and my hips are ample, but not overly so. I've got a nicely shaped tush as well, if I do say so myself. I've been told that I've got a dynamite set of legs, and I suppose they are long and well shaped. While I don't have the face of a fashion model, I've been told by both boys and a few girls that I'm beautiful. Some have told me that I vaguely resemble the actress Poppy Montgomery. I'm no virgin, if you're curious, but no slut either. Only two guys had so far made it to the Promised Land. The first of the two was a complete disaster, he didn't know what he was doing, it hurt, and he's history. The last of those two now is my husband.

I met Willis Hamilton at our local community college. I was intending to take a few courses in business that would make me more valuable around my dad's store. Willis was taking photography courses. He was already taking family portraits and shots of kids before he even graduated high school, along with the more artistic shots he took for his hobby. He had a small studio in town with an upstairs apartment and darkroom, the latter since he had learned "old school" film photography. He was accepting the inevitable advance of technology and was learning the digital method of today. Though we had attended the same high school, he had graduated two years ahead of me, so we didn't know each other well. I recognized him, but only acknowledged him with a wave when he said hello in passing.

Willis was slightly taller than me, with a slim but muscular build, brown hair, and a well trimmed beard. He had the cutest set of blue eyes as well. He was no Ashton Kutcher, but kids weren't going to run screaming from him either. Those who knew him said he had an easy, laid back personality and was quick with a joke. I thought he was cute, but he didn't seem to do anything other than notice me, and I've never been one to push myself on a near stranger. The thing that finally endeared him to me, and was the genesis of our relationship, was how cute he looked when he blushed and got embarrassed on the occasion of our initial conversation.

I guess that needs some explaining. I had heard through the grapevine that he was asking about me. He wanted to know whether or not I was dating, among other things. I assumed he was getting up the nerve to ask me out. But Willis had a surprise for me. You see Willis had a class project. It was one of those artsy type things, but the jist of it was that he needed to shoot a nude photo. Imagine my surprise when he approached me in the parking lot at my car to be the model. The poor guy was nearly incoherent at first as he tried to give me the proposition, blushing furiously and stammering.

"Kyran, I'm not talking about anything pornographic here," he rushed to explain, "I want you to understand that it won't require frontal nudity at all. It'll be taken from behind, with your face in profile. You'll hardly be recognizable. And I'm willing to pay you five hundred dollars for modeling this one session."

I was quite frankly flattered and having so much fun with his obvious discomfort that I couldn't resist picking on him a bit, so with all I had I fought back any indication of amusement. I theatrically stomped my foot and balled my hands into fists. With a humorously faked outrage, I verbally sailed into him.

"Willis Hamilton! What kind of a slut do you think I am? You've never said three words to me before today. And now you think you can walk up to me, offer me five hundred bucks, and I'm just going to shed my clothes for you?"

"Oh God, Kyran!" he pleaded, wringing his hands, and blushing yet more profusely, "I meant no disrespect to you. And I certainly wasn't making any moral judgments or implications as to your character. As I said, this is really an art project. I wasn't expecting to see anymore of you than absolutely necessary for the photo. And I assure you, it would have been very tastefully done. I know my request seemed presumptuous and in poor taste to you now. It's just that..."

"Well out with it!" I continued with the feigned assault, although now with a bit more curiosity, "It's just that...what?"

"The photo's going to be a black and white. With the lighting I have planned, you've got the perfect skin tone. For that reason alone, you're the perfect choice for the model. Well, that reason and one other..." 

As he hesitated, he looked down and started shifting gravel around with his shoe. The poor guy looked like he would have rather been standing on the surface of the Sun than going through this conversation.

"And just what would that one other reason be?" I asked him with a hint of a smile.

He hesitated a few seconds before answering. Finally, from somewhere deep inside him he forced out the answer in a near whisper. "Because I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever known."

Okay, hate me if you will for being corny, but my heart just melted. From any other guy, it would have been just that, a corny pick up line. But it was obvious that he meant it. The poor guy had just opened up his chest cavity and handed me his heart. I moved up close to him and placed the palm of my hand on his still red cheek. It was actually warm to the touch.

"I'll do it, but I have two conditions." I said with a smile.

"What would they be?" he asked with a small smile of his own, finally daring to look into my eyes.

"The money would be nice, but I'd feel like a whore, or a porn actress. I'll settle for pizza and a movie instead."

"And the second," he asked with a Cheshire cat grin.

"Kiss me, right now." 

He did. And he did it well.

My lone venture into modeling happened that Friday night, and was a smashing success in more ways than one. As per our agreement, we had some delicious cheeseburger pizza, my favorite. So shoot me, I'm not Italian. We snuggled through a nice romantic comedy, and he bought me a box of Junior Mints and a Diet Coke. I was having a great time being with him and he seemed to be equally happy with me. When the end credits rolled, he actually got up the nerve to give me a couple sweet kisses. My heart was beginning to slip into his grasp already as we left to head to the studio.

Despite still being somewhat nervous, he had slipped into artist mode. He knew how he wanted this thing to go. He had it laid out in his mind, just as he had told me. His only other concern was to keep me from being in any way embarrassed. With this in mind, he had me disrobe in his upstairs apartment, and he left a thick white terrycloth robe for me to wear up until and after the shoot.

I must say, I'm no artist, but even I could tell that it was a great photo. As he said, it was taken from behind me, in low light, with an additional light source coming down at an angle from above and to my right. I was in a seated position, on a crushed velvet rug, leaning on my left hand. Both my legs were tucked in beside me, with the soles of both feet pointed back toward the camera. My right arm was pointed upward, my hand reaching out, palm up to the light source. Willis adjusted my face so that I was looking into the light. It looked like a sunrise was washing over me, and the contrast of light and shadow was amazing. It was true, as he had predicted that my skin tone was a factor. Through whatever magic of his profession he had used, my skin had an almost luminescent quality about it. His other prediction was also true. Because of the angle of my face, the position of my right arm, and the way that my hair was arranged, it was not quite readily apparent who I was. As good as the photo looked, that almost saddened me. It was artistic, yet at the same time, erotic. This man had seen this beautiful scene in his mind, with me as the focus of it, long before it had happened. The sheer romance of it all was undeniable.

As you might guess from my earlier allusion, Willis got to see that robe come off. I've got to tell you that this was far from my usual behavior. As, I said, there had been a guy before Will, but I had made him wait a long time before I let myself be talked into trying sex. But with Will, it just seemed right. He had made me feel so sexy and beautiful, like some kind of goddess. Thank God he had that apartment attached to his studio, or I would have probably jumped his bones right there on the floor. He was an incredibly sensitive and gentle lover, and let me say it was a great improvement over my first time. God bless him, he managed to give me two orgasms, one with his tongue and fingers, and one as he rode on top of me. After it was over, he held me so sweetly and thanked me over and over for giving myself to him, telling me how wonderful it was. He kept reassuring me that he didn't think less of me and that he didn't want a one night stand. He wanted a relationship with me. He dropped me off at my home late that night a happy girl.

After that night we were inseparable. We agreed to marry after we had saved up some money so getting started out wouldn't be such a financial burden. The respectives were not a problem. My parents loved Willis immediately. His parents were the salt of the Earth type that loved everybody, so I was an instant hit. Willis was doing a brisk business at his studio, and I was working as much as I could for my dad. We had a place to live right away. The apartment over the studio was actually quite nice and would be plenty big enough until we started a family. A little over a year later we were married, and after a romantic honeymoon spent in a secluded mountain cabin on a wooded lake we settled into married life.

It was a little under two years into our marriage that the cancer began to grow. It wasn't money. We weren't millionaires by any stretch, but then we were more than getting by. We could even afford a few luxuries after the bills and what we saved. No, it was that other nemesis of married couples. It was our sex life.

Now let me say, right off the bat, that it wasn't quantity. We were screwing like bunnies as a matter of fact. I also must say, as confusing as this may sound, that it really wasn't quality either. Willis always went to great pains to make sure I enjoyed the ride if you will. He wasn't inadequate as a man, in fact he was bigger than average, and he wasn't a premature ejaculator. So what was I bitching about you ask? 

Willis was a romantic. He was gentle and considerate, as I've said, sometimes to a fault. The sex was already getting vanilla. It was starting to get, at least to me, repetitive. To be quite frank about it, we needed to get our kink on. Mind you, I wasn't advocating joining a swingers' club. I didn't want to tie my husband up and make him watch while I banged some stranger. I certainly didn't want to share him with some cute chick, even if he agreed to do so, which would have caused me to die from shock. 

I did the usual things. I bought scandalous lingerie. I wore racier underwear, sometimes no underwear at all. I did away with my usual pantyhose altogether in favor of garter belts and stockings. The few pairs of pantyhose I kept around were special. They had a low cut French waist and were crotchless. With them, I could wear a shorter hemline without showing a stocking top. Business did pick up, especially when I wore these items to bed. Will also approved of my newly shaved cunt. We got a book on different sex positions. We went so far as to try some light bondage. These things worked to a degree, but I still felt like pushing things a bit further.

I tried introducing the idea of maybe watching a little porn together. Will didn't really like the idea and it actually worked against me. It made him uncomfortable and ruined the mood. I pushed things into the area of role play. Will valiantly gave it a go, but it was a mixed success at best. As hard as he tried I could tell that his heart really wasn't in it. One memorable evening, I pushed the whole role play thing over the edge, and I found out just how much I was up against with this guy.

The dust up was over Carrie Wilson. Carrie was a blonde, bubbly girl who was currently attending the same community college classes that Will had attended. You see, Will on occasion had to do some traveling around to the county schools. The class pictures and yearbook photos that he took on these days, along with the packets of pictures that the kids took home for their family every year, were a very lucrative side line. The small bit of travel required hardly ever resulted in any overnight stays. The problem was, of course, that his absence left the studio unmanned. Even if I had been unemployed it wouldn't have been much help. I was clueless about photography. So Will had approached his former professor about anyone interested in a job at his studio, part time. The professor gave Carrie the nod with great enthusiasm. She was equally enthusiastic at getting a chance to make a little extra money while honing her own craft. It was a win-win all around.

I would have been much less enthused if I had not trusted Will with my life. Carrie was a knockout. She was petite, barely over five feet, but her slim, shapely legs looked a lot longer than they were. She had an impressive set of boobs for a girl her size and she definitely filled out the seat of her jeans well. She had hair so blonde it was the color of corn silk, and it was long, straight, and thick. Her skin was tanned, and her eyes were crystal blue. She wore hardly any makeup on her stunning face, Hell it would have been superfluous. She was a head turner to say the least. I was as straight as they come and I would have damn near slept with her.

Her personality was, everybody said, her best feature. The girl was so sweet, it almost made a cynic nauseous. She seemed unaware of her beauty, making self deprecating comments when anyone brought it up. It was widely known that she lived under a pretty strict moral code, although she wasn't "holier than thou" by any stretch of the imagination. She had an active social life and lots of friends, male and female, but nobody seemed to be on the inside track. One of her best assets, which Will was quite delighted with, was her ability with children. They universally loved her. Will photographed a lot of them, and they could be a handful, babies especially. Will was good with them mind you. As a matter of fact, I often jokingly referred to him as the "Baby Whisperer" after seeing him in action a few times. Carrie surpassed even him. Sometimes even when he was in the studio he would call her in if he had a heavy load of small children scheduled.

On the memorable evening I've referenced, we were feeling a bit amorous, due in part to a large bottle of wine. As I said, my motor was running, and when things took a decidedly hot turn I decided I might throw a little gasoline on the fire. I seductively whispered in Will's ear that maybe he might like to let me stand in for the role of Carrie tonight. The reaction was both immediate and unsuspected. It was also intense. I felt his whole body tense up as he suddenly jumped up from the sofa beside me.




Tease the Bull...



"Kyran, that's about enough." Will hissed through clenched teeth, "If I wanted to be with Carrie Wilson, she'd be here and not you. You're my wife, not her. I love you, not her. For some damned reason that I can't figure out, you want to bring other people into our bed, at least in your mind. That makes me uneasy. In my mind, when a person gets comfortable with mental adultery, the physical kind soon follows. Also keep this in mind. I have a working relationship with Carrie. If I allow those kinds of feelings to start taking root, they're going to affect that relationship. She's a perceptive girl, and she'll pick up on it. It will either make her uncomfortable, and she'll quit, or she'll be encouraged, which is worse. What if she started coming on to me, God forbid, and it somehow negatively affected our marriage? It's you and me, or it's nothing at all. Why in God's name am I not enough for you now? What is supposed to be the attraction for you in me pretending you're someone else?"

I was floored and frustrated, but I quickly recovered. I managed to get him cooled down, but I realized that persisting in this vein was getting dangerous. I decided that advice should be sought, since I just kept fouling things up. So I brought the matter before the council of my closest female friends, whose discretion could be counted on. A couple of them jokingly suggested a lover, but they were doing just that, joking. Their advice was varied, from trying trips to different romantic settings, to other well intentioned fire starters. To one thing there was a general consensus. They one and all agreed that I was nuts. The lecture I got from Julie, my lifelong best friend, could serve as a general template for all the others.

"Kyran, I've got to say that you're really not making a lot of sense here." She said as she held my hands. "You've got a great husband. He's cute. He doesn't abuse drugs or alcohol. He doesn't gamble. He works hard and brings the money home to you. On the other hand, he's not so wrapped up in work that he neglects you. Far from being abusive, he's always worshipped the ground you walk on. You've told us all how he's always so romantic, always doing things to let you know he loves you. For Christ's sake woman, you've admitted yourself that he's even good in bed. I've got to admit that, sorry kid, I'm pretty much like Willis on this one. I'm wondering just what the hell it is you want the guy to do, beyond what he's doing already. Ninety nine women in this town out of a hundred would run you down in a heartbeat to be in your shoes. Trust me girlfriend, if you do something stupid and let that man slip through your fingers, he won't fall very far. Hell, your replacement could be working right beside him in that studio as we speak!"

Needless to say, that got my attention. After a few doses of this same general medicine, I started feeling like a bit of a bitch. I had pretty good success from that point on in being satisfied. The old feelings would surface from time to time, but I'd fight them down and all would return to normalcy eventually. Of course Fate soon decided to be a bitch herself and test me further.

My dad had decided the time had come to hang up his hat in the business world. He wanted to retire while he and mom had the health and the good years left to enjoy some relaxation and travel. While I was happy for him, it did present a problem. It was going to leave me unemployed. Fortunately I was not without marketable skills. My next job opportunity presented itself in short order. A local business executive was in need of an assistant. The job involved mostly "gofer" work, some light secretarial duties, and help in arranging travel and hotel reservations. My dad, while not a personal friend, at least had some passing acquaintance with the gentleman, Mr. David Farris. If my sterling resume failed to get me the interview, then a word from dear old dad must have. In a few weeks time I had a new job with the added advantage of a higher salary and a nice benefits package.

I liked my new employer. David Farris was an astute businessman, but he wasn't cut from the usual corporate cloth. He wore his individuality like a badge of honor. Oh, he dressed the part, to be sure. He rocked the expensive suit, silk tie, and Italian leather dress boots with best of them. He favored dark colors, black, blue, and charcoal gray. There the resemblance to the rest of the herd ended. First of all, he was a big man. He was well over six feet tall and solidly built, with big hands. He was obviously no stranger to the weight room. Ruggedly handsome, he shaved his head, had dark brown eyes, and wore a well trimmed dark brown goatee, flecked with highlights of blond. His left ear was pierced with a brilliant diamond stud. He looked like Wall Street had collided with Sturgis at Bike Week. As a matter of fact, one of his favorite toys was a big Harley cruiser that he liked to ride on weekend excursions. He was still in his late thirties.

Like most big men, he was gentle and soft spoken for the most part. That being said, all but the blind could tell there was a storm brewing just under the surface, waiting for the right circumstances to set it off. Wise people did not trifle with David Farris. He was an excellent employer. Although not overly friendly, he wasn't a stuffed shirt either, and he would joke freely with both me and Libby Fielding, his secretary/receptionist. Libby was a cute little brown eyed brunette with an impressive rack and legs that could give mine a run for the money. She wore her hemline conservatively, but she looked like she had been poured into her skirt and her cleavage challenged decorum to the limit. She was one of those women who gave the impression they were flirting with you, whether they were or not. With Libby this was not gender specific either. I often felt like she was undressing me with her eyes but I didn't make much of it. Like me, she was married, although I had no idea what her husband did for a living. At any rate, her work station was just outside the suite where David and I worked and I didn't see her a great deal during the day.

The aforementioned suite was impressive. The two walls at the corner were floor to ceiling glass. David's big desk sat right in front of the view. He could face his desk or swivel around and stare out the window as he desired. My desk and computer were several yards in front of him, though my desk faced the door. The floor of the suite was richly carpeted, the walls were impressively paneled, and the furnishings were obviously expensive. Oak and rich leather were everywhere and the air was always slightly scented with the smell of the vanilla flavored tobacco David smoked in his briar pipe. I noted that he had a different one for each day. He also kept a couple crystal decanters of Scotch and Bourbon on an oak bar which had an installed icemaker. Each of the decanters flanked a cut glass jar of his custom blended tobacco. The suite even had an attached bedroom and bath with a generous closet in the event that David wished to work late and just stay for the night rather than drive home. 

Things at work and at home took on a usual pattern. At both places, of course, there were the usual annoyances but nothing beyond fixing relatively easy. Will and I had even started talking about becoming parents. I now had good medical insurance, and with our respective moms, two baby sitters built in. We decided to give it about two years to ensure that my job was secure and that there were no problems we had not considered. The thing that made me uneasy was the nagging, restless, lack of complete satisfaction in our marital bed that continued to crop up on a limited basis. I just decided to deal with it in the same fashion as I had up to this point. Surely, I reasoned, it would all work out. Love does, after all, conquer everything in the end does it not?

My downfall began soon after, one cool but sunny Friday afternoon. My king sized employer had decided to spend the weekend riding his bike, and planned to knock off at the noon hour to start the trip. He had actually rode to work that morning, changed into his suit and tie, and was going to return to denim and leather when he left for the day. He came out of his bedroom appropriately attired, black leather jacket thrown over his shoulder, and leaned back against the front of his desk to make a call on the office phone. I couldn't help but notice the difference in him. He was wearing a tight fitting black t-shirt with the logo of his favorite band, Motorhead, depicted on the front. The tattoos were now visible on his muscular arms. The diamond in his ear had given way to a silver stud. The boots were also changed to heavy black riding boots. It was the faded skin tight jeans that proved to be the real source of interest. 

Like a moth drawn irresistibly to a flickering flame, my eyes locked onto his crotch and upper thigh. There was a very prominent bulge. It was apparent, especially from the length of the bulge along his thigh, that one of two things was true. Either David Farris had a banana in his pocket, or he was packing some serious equipment. I had a strong suspicion that the latter was more likely the case. Blushing furiously, I finally managed to avert my gaze and tried to get my mind back on my duties. As if!

After David had finally left the office, my mind started doing its devious best to prevent a return to business. The inevitable questions began in my mind. Just how long was it? How big around? What would it look like? What would it feel like? Before long I found myself in the restroom, with my fingers attacking the small swamp that had appeared between my legs. That held me until I got home, whereupon I proceeded to practically rape my husband. Will received a very pleasurable weekend out of the whole thing, although I was just a trifle guilty that in my mind it was David Farris who was doing me the honors.

It goes without saying that things changed Monday morning. I would catch myself looking at the big guy a lot more often, and certainly in a new light. When he was in his suit pants, his bulge wasn't as noticeable due to the fuller cut, and I found this a mixed blessing. Of course, the little glances were clandestine. I couldn't let this thing become obvious. This, in turn, led to a new and heretofore unnoticed discovery. Since I was paying him more attention, I saw what I had probably failed to notice before. David was also looking at me. 

It started with a mere glimpse in his direction, out of the corner of my eye. I noticed his gaze fixed in my direction. I was sitting at my chair, in front of my desk, sitting slightly sideways. I was wearing a skirt and my legs were crossed at the knee, the shoe on my right foot dangling down. David was scoping out my legs and quite possibly my foot as well. To mischievously test more fully the source of his interest, I began moving my foot up and down and in a slight circle. Oh yeah, I could see his eyes lock in on my foot in its orbit.

"Why that big kinky devil," the thought ran through my mind, "he's a leg man. But it seems he's got a bit of a foot fetish as well."

I had educated myself fairly thoroughly on a few of these things. You remember I was trying to find reasonable ways to light Will's fire. I had read that this was actually one of the most prevalent fetishes in men. At that point, it suddenly dawned on me the naughty things David was probably imagining doing to that foot, along with the rest of me quite probably. My whole body was tingling with excitement at that knowledge. My pussy was getting nice and moist and my nipples were standing up like pencil erasers. The whole day went this way. Mixed in with my work, I would casually cross and uncross my legs. I would dangle my shoe enticingly from my foot, then set my foot back on the floor and hide it once again in the shoe. Once, I "accidentally" dropped the shoe off my foot altogether. Then of course, I had to find it again with my toes and slide it back on. This whole performance was not lost on the man sitting across the office.

In the past, I would have been blissfully unaware of his interest. But now, things were different. I was watching him more closely, and in a different way. Of course there was the added factor that this was not an innocent thing on my part. I was actively courting the big guy's notice. Still, I had to respect him for his self control. He wasn't ogling me. He was doing his level best to appear uninterested. But I noted with amusement, and not a small amount of horniness, that it was a battle he was losing. The resulting sense of control, of dominance over the big man, coupled with my naughty fantasies about his big package had me running at full steam. I took that mental cauldron of forbidden stimulation home to my hubby that evening and dumped it on him, much to our mutual delight.

All it took was some gentle manipulation of my husband's good nature to introduce the new fantasy into our sex life. Of course, I had to let him remain in the dark as to just exactly why it happened, for obvious reasons. I was still in my office clothing when we ate our evening meal, with the exception of my jacket. When we had finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen, we headed to the big sofa in the living room to relax with a glass of wine. I had an idea that might possibly work.

It was so simple. All I had to do was tell Will that my feet were hurting. He acted just as I suspected he might. In less time than it takes to tell I was stretched out the length of the sofa with my feet in Will's lap getting a foot rub. Before long, I was rubbing the other foot into Will's crotch. One thing led to another and we wound up naked, though I left on my stockings and garter belt. Will and I were reclining, facing one another, our heads resting on the opposite cushioned armrests. He was still gently massaging my right foot and it felt heavenly. It was at that point that I took the sole of my other foot and began to slowly and gently slide it up and down the length of my husband's hard cock.

"My God, Kyran," he whispered as his eyes rolled upward toward the ceiling, "that feels wonderful. Please, I beg you, don't stop."

"Oh, you like that do you?" I teased, "Well, I'll keep going But it's going to cost you..." 

"Anything Baby," he moaned lustily, "I'll do anything for this. I've never felt anything like it. My God, that feels like nothing I've ever felt before."

"So you like my feet do you," I asked in my sexiest whisper, "Well I want you to prove it to me. Take that foot you're massaging. I want you to kiss it. You have to do a good job now. I want it kissed all up and down. Each little toe too. Kiss and lick all up and down. Worship it for me. If you're a good foot slave for me, I'll give you an extra special treat. But if you don't, I'll have to stop what I'm doing for you. Now you don't want that do you?"

"God no, Baby," he pleaded, "Just tell me if I'm not doing it right and I'll do better."

It was so amazing watching my straight laced husband kissing, licking, and nibbling away at my nylon covered foot, while his hands rubbed up and down my leg. It was even more amazing that he was quite obviously enjoying doing so. He even managed to push his tongue in between the toes, despite the nylon covering. It was such a turn on that I began teasing my nipples with the fingers of one hand while I stroked the wet slit of my pussy with the fingers of the other. Of course, I probably don't need to tell you that, before too long, in my mind it was David Farris on the other end of that couch.

After bringing myself to a mind blowing orgasm. I finally decided to reward my little slave. Taking my foot from his face I brought it down to his crotch along with my other foot. I turned the soles of my feet sideways and captured his hard cock between the arches. Slowly at first, then with increasing speed I began sliding my feet up and down. Will loved it, all the while moaning and bucking his hips. It was probably just a few minutes before he suddenly gave a strangled cry and arched his back as thick spurts of semen shot out of the head of his cock.

"Merciful Heavens, girl," he exclaimed a few moments later as he cleaned up his abdomen and my feet and legs with a wet cloth. "That was absolutely fantastic. Was it fun for you too?"

"You betcha it was," I giggled, "You make an awfully good foot slave. Just wait 'til I tell all our friends how you like to worship my smelly feet."

"Kyran," he gasped, "You wouldn't dare!"

"Oh really?" I teased, "I think you know me better than that. But perhaps we can come to an arrangement in exchange for my silence. Maybe we can put this into regular use in the rotation if you get my drift. Of course, I won't abuse the power I have over you too much."

"Gladly my Gaelic Queen," he teased as he kissed the top of each foot lovingly, "and by the way, your pretty little feet are not at all 'smelly', thank you very much."

"I notice you're still 'standing at attention' dear hubby," I said casually, "I've got a warm, wet place for that if you're interested."

"Actually darlin' I can think of two warm, wet places on you that might fit that description." he said with a leer.

"Oh, so that's the way of it, is it?" I laughed, "Feeling frisky tonight are you? Very well then, but if you get my mouth, then it's only fair that I get to ride that beard. Then we'll see if you can take care of that second warm, wet place."

The night was such a smashing success! Will had questions obviously. Where had I come up with that kind of naughty idea, he wondered? I simply told him the slightly modified truth. I was simply reading some erotic research material in an effort to keep things hot between us. And although there was some deception involved overall, I felt it was justified. My fantasies about David Farris were just that, fantasies. As long as I never acted on them, no harm, no foul. I came home to my Will all fired up, enjoyed the naughty aspect of it, and we both were satisfied. In fact, Will got to the point that he would get a very firm erection in the morning when he watched me put on my stockings or pantyhose. I would tease him unmercifully, allowing him to briefly worship my feet, then tell him he couldn't have his "special treat" until that evening. By the time we got together at night we were as hot as a ten dollar pistol. 

As for Mr. David Farris, I knew I had to be careful in my daily torture sessions. There was, obviously, a line I could not cross. While, as I mentioned, David would joke somewhat with me and also Libby, there was no sexual banter. He was pretty much all business in that office. That did not mean I could not escalate the campaign as needed. If I sensed things were getting out of hand I would just back it down a notch or two for awhile and all would be well. I had to keep him interested in my little game. I was getting off on the "dominance" I had over him. I knew that on some level it was frustrating him and he couldn't do a damn thing about it. However, I assumed he had a lover or lovers, so I wasn't exactly being cruel. He was just going to have to vent in the evenings, with someone else being the recipient, as was I. 

My workday became so much fun I should have been paying David. My flirting was subtle, but intent. Before I walked into the office, I would stop at the lowest level restroom in the building. I would roll up my skirt waist a tad, so I could show a little more thigh. I would give him a button or two more cleavage. On occasion, I took to shedding my shoes altogether in the suite, parking them in front or to the side of the leg well of my desk. One memorable day, I went so far as to show him a little trace of stocking top as I did so. His eyes nearly popped out of his head for a split second before he recovered. On a few very rare occasions I would "accidentally" brush my breasts against his arm lightly.