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Naivete

By: Ashson



I'm sure you've all met someone like Michelle. It wasn't that she was dumb or uneducated, it was just that she seemed to have trouble applying her worldly knowledge to herself. Then when something happened that did impact on her it always came as a surprise. 

"But why did this happen to me?" seemed to be her bemused motto.

The first time, but definitely not the last, that life unexpectedly bit her was just after her eighteenth birthday. She had a bit of spending money in her pocket and she was intending to buy a new bikini for the coming season.

Wandering through the mall and trying various shops she finally found 'the bikini'. The one that she just had to have, and it was in her price range. She grabbed it and headed for the checkout.

Then her mobile rang and she stopped dead in her tracks and answered. Simone was on the line and Michelle forgot everything and started talking to her. Simone was in the mall as well? That's great. Where are you? We'll meet up.

Promptly forgetting everything but meeting Simone, Michelle turned and headed out of the shop. She ignored the greeter at the door who attempted to remind her that she was still carrying the bikini and hadn't paid for it. As Michelle would be only too willing to tell you, what happened next wasn't her fault. 

There happened to be a store detective just inside the entrance, and when he saw Michelle duck past the greeter at the door, heading out with unpaid merchandise, he put out a hand to stop her. Michelle thought he was going to grope her, or at least, that's what she claimed, and she slapped him.

That's when things started going wrong for Michelle. She was escorted politely but firmly to the Security Manager's office, where he tried to sort out what had happened and whether he needed to have formal charges laid. Michelle was left sitting outside his office while he interviewed the greeter and the store detective who had been slugged.

Eventually Michelle was invited in to give her version of events. She explained that she had been intending to buy the bikini and had been heading to the checkout to do just that when she got sidetracked.

"If I had intended to steal it," she pointed out, "I wouldn't have waltzed past everyone with it draped over my arm, now would I?"

"That's what Miss Bander said," agreed the Security Director. "She said that she had seen you heading towards the checkouts and then you grabbed your phone. You started chatting away and seemed to forget what you were doing and started to leave the store. She tried to remind you but you were too busy talking to even notice her. Then Charlie stepped in front of you and you decked him."

"I thought he was going the grope," retorted Michelle indignantly. "I don't have to put up with that sort of thing."

"True, but he wasn't going the grope as you so eloquently put it. He was just bringing to your attention that you were departing with unpaid goods, and you slugged him."

Michelle sat back sulking. She knew she hadn't done anything wrong and anyone should be able to see that.

"I will concede that walking out with the bikini without paying was an honest mistake and we won't be pressing any charges with regard to that matter."

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief, just a moment too soon.

"However," continued the Security Manager, "the attack on one of our personnel is a much more serious matter. It's not something that we can just overlook. Charlie is furious and wants you arrested for assault."

"But it wasn't my fault," wailed Michelle. "I told you I thought he was grabbing me."

"Maybe you did and maybe you didn't. It doesn't really make much difference. You can't just go around punching people out. I'm sorry, but I really think that we'll have to pass this on to the police. I wouldn't worry too much, though. They'll probably just give you a warning."

Michelle felt like crying. She did not want to have to get involved with the police.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit him. He startled me. Can't I just apologise or something?"

The Security Manager looked at her and sighed. He reached for his phone and paged Charlie and the pair of them waited until Charlie picked up.

"Charlie, Ben here," said the Security Manager. "I've got the woman who slugged you here in the office. She seems truly sorry and wants to apologise. Do you really want to press charges?"

"Not really, sir, with all that paper work," came Charlie's voice over the speaker. "Just give the silly bitch a spank on the tail and kick her out of your office."

"Ah, Charlie. You're on speaker. Not quite the way to talk about a customer," advised Ben.

"Sorry, sir," came the reply, "but like I said, not worth the paperwork."

"OK. Thanks Charlie. I'll deliver said spank and chase her out."

Ben hung up and turned to Michelle who was staring at him with her eyes wide.

"You're not really going to spank me are you?" she asked, horrified.

Ben blinked, the idea of actually spanking Michelle never having crossed his mind. He grinned, temptation prodding him. How far could he go?

"Well," he said, keeping his face stern. "It does get you out of any charges, doesn't it? Don't worry. It won't be too bad."

"You're joking," whispered Michelle, looking at his stern face. "Aren't you?"

Shaking his head, Ben stood up and moved around the desk. 

"Why don't you just stand up and bend over the desk for a couple of minutes. This won't take long."

Not really believing this was happening, Michelle did as instructed, standing and bending over the desk, hands braced against it. Ben shook his head, surprised that she'd gone this far. Reaching over, he lifted her skirt up, showing of a pretty pair of lacy panties.

"I'm going to have to take these down," he murmured, starting to tug at the panties waist.

"You can't do that," gasped Michelle, shocked.

"And why not?"

"You just can't. I promised my mother not to let any boy pull down my panties until I'm married, so you just can't."

"Sorry, Michelle, but that doesn't apply to me. I'm fully grown and no longer a boy. I think you'll find before you're much older that men pull down women's panties quite frequently."

With that Ben slowly but deliberately pulled down Michelle's panties, while Michelle froze in place, blushing furiously. Ben looked at the pretty white bottom in front of him, admiring the gentle curves. It was irresistible, and he put his hand on her cheek and gently traced the curve around and down.

"You are really quite lovely, you know," said Ben. "Your bottom has a gentle curve that flows naturally to your mound. A friend of mine is an artist, and he would love to use you as a model." 

While Ben was talking his hands kept tracing the curves he described. Gently tapping one ankle with his toe, he encouraged Michelle to move her legs further apart, giving him better access to her mound.

"You shouldn't be touching me like that," gasped Michelle, twisting slightly under his hand. "I thought you were just going to spank me a little."

"Why bother?" asked Ben. "Isn't this nicer than being spanked?" 

His hand continued to rub gently over her mound, squeezing slightly and pressing firmly against her slit, encouraging it to open.

Michelle didn't know what to do. She had reluctantly decided that a short spanking was better than trying to explain to the police, but she hadn't dreamed that he would start touching her like this. She wanted to tell him to stop, but if she did, would he start spanking her? He was right when he said this was better than being spanked.

With Michelle lying quiescent beneath his touch, Ben grew bolder, spreading her lips slightly and slipping his finger into her. Massaging and rubbing, he explored deeper.

Michelle gave a small squeak when she found Ben pressing against her hymen. She found herself torn, wanting to both move away from that probing finger and to push herself firmer against it.

"You shouldn't be touching me like this," she protested weakly. "You should stop."

"Maybe I should, but I'm not going to. You're a virgin still. We'll have to correct that."

"What do you mean, correct it?" demanded Michelle suspiciously.

She was right to be suspicious. Ben had every intention of changing her virginal state.

"What I mean is that instead of spanking you, I'll pop your cherry for you. It might hurt a little when I do, so that will be the equivalent of getting your bottom smacked."

"But you can't do that," Michelle protested. "I don't want you to."

"Michelle, sweetheart," crooned Ben, "You've let me lower your panties and play with your pussy with hardly a peep of protest. What did you think was going to happen? That I'd pat your bottom and say run along?"

By this time Ben had unzipped and released his erection. Michelle could feel him moving her lips apart and the she gasped, eyes flaring wide as she felt him beginning to enter her.

"Stop it," she hissed, horrified. "Someone might come in. You were just going to spank. I didn't agree to this. Please don't."

In answer Ben pressed a little more firmly against her and Michelle could now feel his cock butting against her hymen.

"What are you doing?" she wailed, knowing damn well what and wishing she didn't.

"This may hurt a little," was all the answer she received, and she felt Ben pressing even more firmly against her, feeling her hymen tearing with a sudden sharp sting, and Michelle gasped again as she felt Ben surging confidently into her.

Michelle bit her lip, feeling this strange intruder moving inside her, feeling it stirring up sensations that she'd never felt before. If felt uncomfortable, but it also felt right for some reason, and she twisted slightly, trying to adjust to this new activity.

Ben paused, waiting for Michelle to adjust, then, feeling her steady herself, set to with a will. Michelle had had a point in her protests. It would be embarrassing if someone did come in. Having sex with a customer was definitely not in the security guidelines.

Michelle found herself making little noises and pushing back against Ben as he thrust into her. Sex, she was discovering, wasn't slow and gentle as per the books she had read, but hard, demanding and exciting. She quickly found that she no longer cared if someone came into the office, just as long as Ben continued to do what he was doing.

Moving against Ben, Michelle ceased to care about how this had come about. All that mattered was that he was taking her and she was going with him, letting his body lead her to where hers wanted to go. Feeling him drive into her and rising to meet each thrust, Michelle accepted his dominance.

Ben moved eagerly against Michelle, enjoying her tightness and her heat. Knowing he couldn't draw the experience out too long, he increased the speed of his thrusting, reaching for a climax. Finally achieving one, he spent himself in Michelle, feeling her shuddering in response.

Easing down, Ben continued to move lazily within Michelle, letting the aftermaths of their climaxes slowly wind down. Finally coming to a halt, Ben withdrew and reached for some tissues on the desk to do a quick clean up of them both. Drawing Michelle's panties back up, Ben then took a step back.

"That, I'm sure you will agree, was preferable to a spanking," Ben said with a smile, "so we'll say honour is satisfied all round."

Michelle was lost for words. What did you say after something like that? She was fairly sure that it was rape, but she had let him take her panties down and touch her. Maybe that was considered agreement. One thing she was sure of, she'd keep her panties on next time, not that there'd be a next time of course.

"Before you go," said Ben. "That comment I made earlier about a friend of mind being an artist. Would it be all right with you if I gave him your name and number? I'm quite sure he would love to use you as a model. He does sculptures, and is really very good."

Michelle dithered, on one hand wanting to put the whole thing behind her, on the other hand, be a model? She finally nodded, and gave Ben her number. She could at least speak to the man. There was no harm in that.

"His name's Colin. If he's going to call it will be in the next day or so. If you haven't heard from him by then, just forget about it."

Michelle left, grabbing the bikini as she went. Outside the office door she paused for a second, and then jammed the bikini deep inside her bag. Then she stalked out of the store, giving the greeter and Charlie killing looks as she went. They made no effort to stop her and she went on her way, gloating. She hadn't had to pay for the bikini after all that. 

- - -

It was the same evening that Colin rang her. He introduced himself and told her that Ben had suggested he call. 

"I do clay sculpting," Colin told her, "and I'm starting to make a name for myself. Why don't you visit my studio and see the sort of thing I do and I can explain how I work. It doesn't commit you to anything. Like any good artist, I'm an egotist, and I love showing off my work."

Arriving at a mutually agreeable time, the next afternoon found Michelle knocking on Colin's door. 

Colin greeted her and took her through to his studio. Just inside the studio was a large crystal cabinet containing some of his work. Michelle was delighted at his artistry. Not limiting himself to any one genre, Colin had various animals, mugs, vases and abstracts, and as far as Michelle could tell they all seemed to be of an excellent workmanship. 

The one notable omission was people. Colin had no statues of people at all. On mentioning this to him, Colin grimaced.

"I've never really worked on people until recently," he said. "You get a lot of criticism when you do statues of people, so I've sort of been polishing up my act. I've recently done one statue. It's over here."

Colin took Michelle over to his workbench where he showed her an exquisite little statue of a nude woman.

Michelle marvelled at it. As far as she could see it was perfect, and she said so. Colin, apparently, disagreed. He promptly pointed out half a dozen flaws in the figurine, though Michelle couldn't see anything wrong, even when it was explicitly pointed out. Colin, it seemed, was a perfectionist where his work was concerned.

Drawing her over to a draughtsman's table, Colin opened up a large sketchbook.

"The way I work," he told Michelle, "is to take a number of different sketches of the model. I then use those sketches for the fine details when I'm doing the actual sculpting. These are the sketches I did for that female figurine."

Michelle glanced through the sketchbook, looking at the sketches. If pressed, she would have had to admit that she had no idea how Colin could convert these sketches into the little statue she had just seen, but she could tell that it was the same person. She blushed a little on one page, when she realised just how explicit some of the sketches were.

"I pay twenty five dollars an hour for a sitting," Colin said, "and a sitting generally lasts about two hours. I'm a quick sketch, so I generally do all the sketches I need in a single sitting. If I'm not satisfied when I'm doing the actual sculpture, I may have to call you back for a second sitting. If I do, I still pay for a minimum of two hours. 

So! Are you interested? If so, I have time available right now and we can do the sketches straightaway. If you want more time to think, I'll give you my phone number and you can call me when you've made up your mind, but don't be too long about it, or I'll have to hire someone else."

Michelle hesitated, wanting to sit for the statue but cautious.

"The poses. They're in the nude, aren't they?" she queried.

"Michelle," said Colin softly, "I'm sure you'll agree that it would be hard to do a nude statue unless the model is nude."

Michelle gave a self-conscious laugh and nodded.

"I know. Silly question really."

She considered, her teeth worrying her lip while she thought.

"It plain you're not sure," said Colin. "Why don't you go home and think about it and call me tomorrow."

"If I do," Michelle realised, "he's going to call up his earlier model and have her come back or hire a professional. I do it now or not at all, and it is an easy fifty dollars."

"No, that's OK," she decided. "I'll do it."

Colin smiled, delighted.

"OK. There is a changing room through that door," he said, indicating. "Undress and leave your clothes in there. You'll find a robe hanging on the door. You can wear that when you have to take a break."

For the next hour or so, except for a few short breaks, Michelle posed in front of Colin while he sketched her. She stood, she bent, she stretched, she decided that modelling was a lot harder than she'd realised. Through it all Colin sketched and measured. 

The first time he ran his hands over her, she jumped, but stood still when an irritable voice told her to. Very soon Michelle became accustomed to Colin measuring her and tracing her body with his hands, transferring the images he conjured up with his eyes and touch to paper. A couple of those touches were rather personal she thought, but done in such an impersonal manner that she didn't feel it right to protest.

After an hour or so Colin seemed satisfied with his preliminary sketches. Michelle could see him leafing through what he'd done, glancing at the book and then at her and back again. Finally he nodded to himself, tucked his pencil behind his ear and returned to where Michelle was standing.

To Michelle's shock Colin started stroking her breasts and gently rubbing her nipples.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

Colin looked startled. 

"I'm exciting your breasts," he said. "I need to draw them while your nipples are erect, so I have to coax them to stand up. I thought you'd have realised that I need a proper set of sketches."

Michelle stood there, stunned as Colin continued to play with her breasts, shocked to see that they were responding to his gentle touch. She could also feel the blood stirring in her pussy, but thoughtfully shut up about that, not wanting to give Colin any ideas.

It turned out that she didn't need to worry about giving Colin any ideas. He had plenty of his own to choose from. No sooner did he stop playing with her breasts than he was getting her to kneel on all fours. At first he danced around her with his sketch book, apparently drawing her breasts as they dangled below her, occasionally reaching out to squeeze them or flick her nipple. 

After a while Colin moved behind her, and she could feel his hand tracing over her bottom and down to her mound, reminiscent of the way that Ben had done the day before. She finally dared to ask why.

"What are you doing now, Colin?" she queried. "I'd rather you didn't touch me like that."

"Don't worry about it," Colin told her. "It's all part of my artists temperament. I have to feel my models and get close to them to get a real image of them in my mind."

"Maybe so, but I don't think you should have your hand there," Michelle said with a gasp, as a finger slid smoothly between her lips, stroking inside of her. 

"True," said Colin. "This will be better."

To Michelle's shock Colin started pressing his erection smoothly into her.

"Wait. That's not in the agreement," squealed Michelle. "Stop that at once."

She found herself ignored as Colin continued to press his cock deep into her.

"Michelle, sweetheart," murmured Colin, "you're naked in front of a man. Why would you think that this wouldn't happen? Just relax and let it go. I find that this kind of closeness really helps my artistic temperament."

Michelle found Colin's hands come around and clasp her breasts, squeezing them in time to the gentle motion of his cock. Apparently she'd been wrong, she decided. It seemed that sex could be slow and gentle. Colin was definitely moving slowly and carefully, and those long slow thrusts were certainly getting to her.


Naivete



Michelle shuddered, knowing that somehow or other she'd been tricked again, but finding the gentle motion too appealing to resist.

Colin took his time, all the while letting his artist's hands wander over Michelle's body, familiarising himself with her curves. Michelle found herself floating, riding easily along under Colin's control, letting the tensions and pressure slowly build as she rocked back and forth.

Slowly but surely, Colin built up the tension, his gentle movements becoming more vigorous as his climax approached. He could hear Michelle gasping her pleasure as he moved in her, and he quickened his pace yet again.

Michelle could feel her softness yielding willingly to Colin's hardness, accepting the thrusts that were steadily becoming harder and faster. This time she knew what was coming and she hurried to meet it, her pussy eagerly meeting the erection that was driving into her.

There was a strangled shriek as Michelle finally came, followed quickly by a yell of relief from Colin as he emptied himself into her.

Breathing hard, the pair just rested for a few moments, before Michelle finally spoke.

"You weren't supposed to do that," she complained. "I thought that I was here for modelling, not for you to abuse like that."

"Michelle, sweetheart," crooned Colin, "all nude models tend to have sex with artists. It's part of the draw for them, to lie with talented men. If they don't want to have sex with an artist they bring a friend with them to act as a chaperon. You didn't, so I naturally assumed...."

"Maybe so," snapped Michelle, "but I'm sure that they prefer to be asked, not jumped. And no-one told me about a chaperon."

"You have to understand, artists are such busy people. It saves time to just take the model if she's available without worrying about asking. They are nude after all, which tends to show they're willing."

"Well I'm not willing, so no more."

"Pity, but if you insist that's your right. Can you come back tomorrow for a short session? I'll know what else I need in the way of sketches by then."

Michelle was taken aback. Come back, after what he just did? She looked hard at Colin and realised that he was serious. He really expected her to come back the next day for another session.

"If I come back, it will be sketching only? No touching or anything else?" she queried.

"Scout's honour," said Colin. "Just sketches and only for about fifteen minutes, even though you'll get the minimum two hour fee. If you can make it about two I'd appreciate it, as I have another model due about two thirty."

Agreeing to come the next day, Michelle accepted her fee and took her departure, while Colin retired to his desk to sort through the sketches.

- - -

The next day Michelle arrived ten minutes late. Deliberately. If Colin had another appointment at two thirty, he would find his schedule too cramped to try anything out of order.

It appeared that her little ploy was quite successful, as Colin hadn't finished his sketches when the bell rang to announce his next appointment had arrived. With a muttered curse Colin answered the door, told the model he was running late and to go and get ready. He then returned to spend another five minutes sketching Michelle.

Finally finished, Colin stepped back and thanked Michelle. 

"That's it. You can get dressed now," he said. "I probably won't need you again, but I will give you a call when the statue has been completed so that you can come and see it. I'll let you have a photo of it as well. Thank you very much for coming."

Michelle smiled and nodded and was then taken aback when Colin looked past her and groaned.

"For god's sake, Michael," Colin complained. "I can't sketch you like that. Do something about it."

Turing around, Michelle saw the next model and instantly recognised a few things. Things like, the next model was male and nude. Things like, the nude, male model had an erection. Things like, she had never really seen a man's erection before, even though she had had sex twice. Both times she had been taken from behind and by surprise. 

Michelle hadn't realised that those things were quite that large. If she had, she'd have panicked the first time one of them tried to enter her. She was happy to be about to get dressed and leave. That thing made her nervous.

Michael laughed at Colin's complaint.

"You worry too much, Colin," he said. "The issue is easily addressed. I'm sure this young lady will only be too willing to help me out."

Michael casually reached out and caught Michelle by the arm as she tried to slip past him to the dressing room.

"Let me go," she protested. "I have no intention of helping you out."

"That's the agreement I had with her," Colin added. "She insisted no monkey business."

"That's fascinating information," drawled Michael, "and it interests me because???"

"Because it means you don't get to have sex with me," stated Michelle. "Now please let me go."

"No, I don't think so," replied Michael. "I'm ready and you're naked, it looks as though it was ordained by fate."

"But I don't want you to," snapped Michelle.

"Michael, you can't just grab her and take her if she doesn't want to," added Colin.

Michael laughed. "Watch me," he said.

He effortlessly pulled Michelle up against him. Michelle could feel his erection pressing against her stomach and struggled, trying to pull away. She found her struggles as futile as her protests as Michael caught her around the buttocks and lifted her, sliding his hand to her thighs and pulling her legs around his waist. 

Michelle threw her arms around his neck to stop herself falling backwards. Suddenly she found herself effectively clinging to Michael, his hands on her bottom holding her in place, and his erection suddenly pressed against her mound. All her struggling and wriggling was doing, she realised, was to brush her mound back and forth across the head of his erection.

Michelle froze in place, trying not to move. She could feel Michael's hand sliding up until they were around her waist. They were now no longer taking her weight, but just holding her against him. Michelle found she was straddling Michael's cock and it was pressing firmly against her slit. And she was slowly sinking. She couldn't help it. She tried to lift herself up and away from Michael, but she just wasn't strong enough. 

First the head slowly pressed up against her lips, forcing them apart and then suddenly seeming to slip past and into her. Once the head had entered her it continued ascending. Rather, she realised glumly, she was slowly sinking onto it, and she couldn't stop it. She groaned and relaxed, feeling herself nestle comfortably onto Michael's cock, letting it fill her.

Resigned, she waited for Michael to start using her.

"Michael," called Colin, "don't move. Just hold her like that for a few minutes."

Michael smiled down at Michelle, holding her steady.

Michelle on the other hand was fuming.

"What do you mean just hold me?" she snarled at Colin. "You promised none of this and now you want him to hold me like this? You should be making him stop."

Colin sighed. "It's your own fault, you know," he pointed out. "If you hadn't been late arriving you'd have been finished and gone before Michael arrived. As it is, your delays meant you were still here and enticing him when he arrived. And seeing he's already holding you I just thought I could do a few sketches. 

It'll make a really good three statue series. Nudes of you and Michael and the third with the pair of you joined. Now just try and stay still while I sketch."

Michelle wasn't sure she could believe what she was hearing. Surely he wasn't going to try to sketch them while Michael had her skewered on his erection?

It appeared he was. Colin moved around them, ripping out his sketches, growling if either of them moved.

Michael seemed to take it in his stride, but Michelle found the whole thing degrading, infuriating and exciting.

"I'd love to see how blasé Colin would be about it if he had a foot or so of cock shoved up his arse," she thought vindictively.

As she had feared, Colin's few minutes dragged on, and on. Michelle was acutely conscious of Michael's invasive erection seeming to fill her, and it seemed to her that the longer they stood there not moving, the more she became aware of it. 

As far as she was concerned, they were not standing still. Each breath they took seemed to send little vibrations running through her, causing a continuous flow of small frictions to agitate her vagina. Little movements were causing Michael to grind his groin against hers, with that small rasping being passed deep into her via her pubic bone. Her breasts were leaning against his chest and his every breath caused a gentle rub against her nipples, his chest hair tickling and agitating her breasts.

A couple of times she tried to wriggle, not sure if she was trying to move closer or away, but both times Colin snapped irritably at her. The third time he gave her a sharp slap to the bottom as well.

Michelle sat and fumed and fatalistically felt the tensions building and a rising level of excitement within her, about which she could do nothing. Nor was her temper helped by the obvious enjoyment that Michael was getting out of the situation, or by the way he appeared to be laughing at her.

Brooding on her predicament and wondering just how it had happened, Michelle didn't notice when Colin indicated to Michael that he had finished his sketches. The first she knew of the changed situation was when Michael's hands dropped to her hips and held them firmly while withdrawing his cock and slamming it back as hard as he could.

That sudden thrusting rush on top of the accumulated little movements brought her completely undone. She shrieked, while her climax crashed around her, feeling Michael throbbing and ejaculating into her. She felt a surge of savage satisfaction at this proof that Michael hadn't been quite so calm about the whole thing as he had pretended.

Finally released, Michelle stormed into the dressing room. Dressed and ready to leave she was stunned to hear Colin ask if she'd be available the next day if he needed any supplementary sketches of her with Michael.

"Excuse me?" she asked quietly. "You want to know if I'm prepared to come back and get raped again so that you can watch and do more sketches?"

"It wasn't really rape, you know," protested Colin. "I did say if you didn't want sex to bring a chaperon, but you didn't so Michael obviously thought you were willing."

"And my saying no didn't give him a hint?"

"Well whatever, are you available tomorrow or not?" Where his art was concerned, Colin had a very focused outlook.

"No, I don't think so," said Michelle, proud that she could say it without screaming or hitting. She turned and left, brooding.

A couple of days ago she'd been a virgin. Now she'd had sex with three different men. She was positive she hadn't enticed them or anything, so why did they insinuate it was her fault? It just wasn't fair.

- - -

That evening Michelle was lying on the couch in her pyjamas watching TV and brooding over the events of the past few days. Her housemates were all out, which was fine by Michelle as she wanted to sulk in peace. Greg's early return annoyed her.

"And why are you lying there looking as though your best friend has died?" Greg asked.

"Go away," grumbled Michelle. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Why not just tell me all about it," suggested Greg. "I may not be able to help, but I can listen and let you vent a bit."

Greg sat on the couch next to Michelle while she considered. Maybe it would help to talk to someone, even if it was only Greg.

"I think I was raped," Michelle said with a sigh.

Greg blinked at that.

"You think you were raped? You don't know for certain?" Greg queried.

"All right. I'm sure I was raped," snapped Michelle.

"You don't sound too sure," pointed out Greg. "Did you use that magic word 'no' at any stage of this possible rape?"

"Not exactly," admitted Michelle.

"Um, why don't you explain the circumstances to me? I'm a bit lost right now."

Michelle chewed on her lip for a moment then sighed again. Hesitantly she explained what had happened at the mall with Ben, the Security Manager.

Trying hard not to laugh, Greg considered the situation.

"It seems to me that you didn't actually tell him no," Greg suggested gently. "That would tend to mean that it wasn't rape. Reluctant seduction maybe, but not rape."

"Oh. But what about Colin?" Michelle demanded.

"Excuse me? Colin?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you about him, did I?" said Michelle, launching into the tale of her experience the previous day at Colin's studio.

Greg found himself biting his tongue hard after Michelle had finished. Again he gave his considered opinion.

"I don't really think it would be called rape," he decided. "It's more of a case of sex by mistake. He thought you were willing, the same as most of his models are. You should have been firm about no touching. Once he'd gone that far and you let him he probably though it was OK to go further."

"So you're saying that was my fault, too?" protested Michelle.

"No, I'm not saying that," said Greg. "I'm saying that Colin probably made an honest mistake and thought you were willing. You might say it was rape, but he'd think it was just one of those misunderstandings." 

"All right, possibly that was just a mistake as you say, but Michael doesn't have that excuse, does he?"

"Good god. Has sweet little Michelle worked her way through the entire male neighbourhood?" wondered Greg.

"Um, who is Michael?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you about him did I. I had to go back to Colin's studio today for a few more sketches. While I was there, his next model turned up. That was Michael."

Michelle continued on to describe her experience with Michael, not forgetting to mention Colin dancing around them, sketching.

Greg couldn't help it. Michelle's indignation at being sketched and raped at the same time was too much. He laughed. Michelle glared at him, but then laughed herself.

"It does sound funny when you describe it," she said, "but it wasn't funny at the time."

"I don't suppose it was and it was rape. You told him you didn't want him and he took you anyway. It was careless of Colin to schedule his sittings so that nude models overlapped like that."

"He didn't," confessed Michelle. "I was deliberately late to my session. I wanted the next model to turn up before I left so I wasn't alone with Colin after he finished sketching in case he got ideas."

"Good idea in theory, but it doesn't seem to have worked out too well. If you're going to do any more posing for Colin, I suggest you take a chaperon," Greg told her.

"I probably won't be, but if I do, could you come as my chaperon?" asked Michelle?

"Bad idea, Michelle," said Greg. "You definitely wouldn't want me as your chaperon."

"Why not?" asked Michelle.

"Because if I see you naked," said Greg, "I will be taking you, and you'd find saying no wouldn't help."

"You're joking. You wouldn't," protested Michelle.

"You don't seem to realise what a tasty dish you are. I think I'd better demonstrate."

Reaching down, Greg hooked his fingers over Michelle's pyjama waistband and, before she even realised what he was doing, gave them a sharp jerk down, standing so that he could complete stripping them off her. 

"Greg, no!" she exclaimed. "Don't do anything silly."

Greg smiled at her. 

"I'm not going to do anything silly," he told her. "I'm just going to make love to you. And yes, I heard you say no, but I'm ignoring it. You're just too tempting not to be made love to."

Michelle watched shocked as Greg undid his trousers and slid them off. He was serious, she saw, or at least, his erection certainly seemed serious.

"No, Greg," she repeated. "You don't want to do this."

"Actually, I do. I've wanted to do this since the day you moved in," Greg said. "Now I've decided that I will. Do you want me to make this fast, or shall we take it slowly? If we take it slowly Margaret or Peter might arrive home and rescue you, if you want to be rescued."

"I don't want it fast or slow," protested Michelle. "I don't want it at all."

"Maybe so, but we don't always get what we want. Hurry it up or take my time?"

Michelle glared at him. He was serious. Should she say fast and just get it over with or say slow and hope for rescue?

"OK," Michelle snapped. "Take it slowly, if you insist."

"I insist," said Greg. "Why don't you take off your pyjama top now, so we can get started?"

Michelle slowly took off her top and lay there naked, waiting to see what Greg would do.

Greg bent over Michelle and gently sucked on one breast while cupping the other in his hand. His teeth rasped lightly over her nipple, and he could feel it coming erect.

Micelle gasped as Greg laved kisses and little bites on her breasts, while a hand slid down and rested between her legs. She tried to keep them together, but the gentle stroking along her inner thighs and over her mound was making her nervous and excited and she could feel her legs relaxing despite her wishes.

Greg played with Michelle's body, finding those little spots that could make her gasp and twitch. Running his hand along her slit he could feel the heat from it and an inquisitive finger slipping in found an accumulating dampness.

Sliding his hands under Michelle, Greg lifted her and laid her on the rug, settling down to lie beside her. It was time, he decided, for Michelle to learn a little about him.

Drawing her hand over, he moved it until it was resting on his erection. Michelle promptly tried to snatch her hand away again but Greg held it firmly in place.

"You need to touch it, feel it, get a sense of familiarity with it," he told her. "It's going to be in you soon, so you really should see what it's like."

Reluctant, but curious, Michelle let her hand close over Greg, feeling the heat and the hardness of him. She traced it up, rubbing it between her fingers as she went, until she felt the smooth swelling of the head. Her fingers ran lightly over it and she could hear Greg gasp lightly as she did so. Intrigued, she ran her fingernails over the head, lightly scratching. She smirked to herself at his cringing reaction.

So, this wasn't all one way action it seemed. She repeated her action, wondering what he would do.

The answer she found was a finger penetrating her lips and flicking her clitoris. She squealed at the sudden sensation, then lightly scratched the head of his cock again. She was quite sure Greg was gritting his teeth, but she also found his finger promptly flicked her clitoris again, drawing forth another squeal.

They continued exploring each other's bodies, their excitement rising as they progressed. Greg was the first to give up. He either took her now or came in her hand, which would be a disappointment to him. He wanted to be in her.

Rearing up he moved between her legs, aligning himself with her slit. Then he gently pressed forward.

Michelle looked down at herself, seeing Greg's erection advancing towards her. She saw it press against her, and could feel the pressure and her lips starting to yield.

"No, Greg," she said weakly.

Greg just looked at her, pressing slowly into her. Michelle couldn't take her eyes away from where he was disappearing into her, the slow inwards movement she saw matched by the feel of him filling her. She gasped when he paused when nearly in and held for a second. She glanced at his face and saw him wink at her, before a sudden lunge drove him the rest of the way home and drew a scream from her.

Greg held Michelle firmly pinned for a moment, asserting his dominance, and then he slowly started to pull back out. Michelle looked back down to where Greg was teasing her, seeing him slowly emerge, hold for a moment and sink back down into her while rasping sensations battered at her nerves.




Naivete



After a few moments Michelle found herself moving up towards Greg when he pressed in, matching that slow tantalising rhythm that was shredding her nervous system.

Soon they were moving as a united pair, with Michelle transferring her gaze to Greg's face, watching as he gently made love to her. Greg was in no hurry. He finally had Michelle where he wanted her, and he was going to keep her there for a while yet.

Gently the pair of them rocked on, until eventually Michelle's eyes closed, shutting everything out but the sensations being triggered within her by Greg's erection.

Soon Greg started a slow acceleration, moving faster at a slow rate, drawing Michelle along with him. And moving faster, harder, faster.

Michelle was gasping and giving out little screams as Greg thrust into her, feeling her climax coming and hurrying to meet it. She felt Greg slide his hand down and felt his finger sliding into her, and then he flicked her clitoris again.

Michelle screamed, climaxing hard, frantically clinging to Greg as she convulsed under him, feeling him flooding her as he matched her climax.

Lying still, Michelle quizzed Greg.

"Why did you feel it necessary to rape me? What were you trying to prove?"

"I wanted you, and I hate to disappoint you, love, but it wasn't rape."

Michelle sat up, indignant.

"What do you mean it wasn't rape? I specifically said no," she protested.

"I asked you if you want me to make love to you quickly or to take it slowly. When you said to take it slowly and then finished talking off your pyjamas, you were giving me permission," Greg explained.

"And what would be the opinion of Margaret and Peter when they get home and I ask them?"

"If you ask Margaret, she'd probably say it was rape. Peter on the other hand would say you gave me permission. But you probably shouldn't ask Peter."

"Why not," queried Michelle.

"Because he's a man. He'll probably lure you into a discussion about sex and then seduce you, willing or not. I keep telling you that you don't seem to realise how enticing you are. Especially dressed the way you are."

Michelle suddenly remembered that she was naked. She groaned and grabbed for her pyjamas.

"I'm going to bed," she announced. "Maybe it will all make sense in the morning, but I doubt it."

"That's the best offer I've heard all day," Greg said cheerfully. "Don't bother putting those on. We'd just have to take them off later."



Naivety



We recently had a new housemate move in with us. Angela was a strange young woman. She was nearly twenty, doing a double degree in the sciences and would probably go on to get herself a doctorate in whatever field she chose. She was truly a brilliant young woman.

And naïve. Hopelessly naïve. Naïve beyond the bounds of common sense. If asked, she could probably tell you all about sex. Intellectually she knew human behaviour and human physiology. She could probably describe the physical side of sex from conception through to birth. But for all her knowledge she was still naïve.

You see, she had never made the connection between sex and herself. Her knowledge was purely intellectual; it didn't actually apply to her. She was the consummate observer, watching life and taking notes, letting life itself pass her by. She didn't date so she had no boyfriends who would have been willing to give her a more hands on type of education. This led to some odd situations.

Angela was completely unselfconscious about her body. She had good taste in clothes and make up and used both with flair, but only because that was how things were done. I found that as a new housemate her behaviour was just a little unnerving.

Angela, you must understand, as well as being really smart was also healthy, fit and quite lovely. Combine that with her total lack of self-consciousness. The result would be that she'd wander around the house in her undies or her nightie, having no idea what it did to the male members of the house. A couple of the boys tried a pass and just got a blank stare in return. Angela just didn't understand what they were driving at.

Eventually an irate girlfriend had a word with Angela. She was smart enough to not accuse Angela of trying to attract the boys; just let her know that it made the boys uncomfortable to have Angela wandering around not properly dressed. Angela had no wish to cause us discomfort, so after that she took to wearing a dressing gown when it was appropriate. Pity, that.

It was a hot Saturday morning when Angela lapsed from her good behaviour. For some reason everyone in the house was up and about early, bar Angela and my good self. By the time I strolled out to the kitchen everyone had gone about their business. From various conversations I recalled my understanding was that they would all be gone for the day.

Standing in the kitchen was the other last occupant, Angela. She must have misjudged the number of housemates who'd shot through and thought she had the house to herself. She was wearing a shortie nightie, one that barely covered her pretty little bottom, and had just finished having her breakfast and was carrying her dishes over to the dishwasher. 

Apparently she considered that the get properly dressed rule only applied if there were other people in the house, and she hadn't counted on me being there. When she bent forward to put her things in the dishwasher her nightie crept up her bottom and it was obvious that a dressing gown wasn't the only thing she hadn't bothered to put on.

"Morning, Angela," I murmured as I drifted over towards her.

She glanced up, a little startled.

"Oh, hi, Peter," she said. "I thought I was the last one here."

"Not quite," I said. 

Standing next to her I dropped my hand down and started rubbing her bottom. Under her nightie.

"I assume that's why you didn't bother dressing properly," I said.

"Uh-huh. I suppose I should get some things on."

"Don't bother on my account," I told her. "You've got very nice skin and I like looking at it." 

I was still, by the way, stroking her bottom. She hadn't thought to move away. Finally it did, but I moved with her.

"Um, my bottom," she said, blushing slightly.

I squeezed one cheek.

"You have a very nice one," I assured her, continuing to get a very good feel of it.

"I don't think you're supposed to be doing that sort of thing," she said, pushing my hand away.

"Why not?" is asked, letting her move my hand. 

"Nice soft curls," I added, as now that I was no longer patting her bottom I'd decided to lift up the front of her nightie slightly and do some investigating there.

"It's just not done," Angela said, looking a little embarrassed. "And I know you shouldn't be touching me there. I'm not an idiot, you know."

She was now trying to push away the hand that was tangled in her curls and squeezing her mons.

"Don't be silly," I told her. "It's done all the time. Are you saying you don't like it?"

"Of course I don't like it," she practically snapped at me. "Please stop it."

"That was just you saying what you thought was expected of you," I told her. "Now just stop for a moment and consider what I'm doing and how it really feels."

She did. She actually stood there, head tilted slightly to one side and considered the feel of me massaging her mons and running my fingers through her curly muff.

"Mmm?" I prompted.

"It feels different," she finally decided. "I think I like it but I have this feeling I shouldn't."

"Uh-huh," I murmured, "and what about when I was doing this?"

My hand drifted around and started caressing her bottom again.

"OK," she conceded. "It's nice, but I still feel that I shouldn't be letting you do it."

"You're not letting me," I pointed out. "I'm just doing it, so relax a little."

While I continued to stroke her bottom and Angela stood there in indecision, I slipped my other hand under the front of her nightie again. I gave her curls a gentle tug, which caused her to squeak, and then ran my hand over her tummy, moving slowly upward until I captured a soft breast.

"So how does this feel?" I asked, stroking her breast and letting my thumb roll her nipple around. "The same as your bottom or is it more like when I played with your curls?"

"Now I know you're not supposed to be touching my breasts," she gasped. "You'll have to shift your hands at once."

"OK," I grumbled, "but you still haven't said what it feels like." 

"And I'm not going to. Are you going to take your hand off me or not?"

I considered the question.

"Not," I decided. "I like the feel of you."

"That was a rhetorical question," Angela said, sounding a little heated.

"Then I hope I gave the right answer," I said, while my hand drifted away from her breast and back down to her mons, and then even further down and around, cupping her mound.

She gasped again when my hand closed over her.

"What are you doing? You have to take your hands off me."

"No, I don't," I told her. "Now lift your arms."

"What? Why?"

"Because I'm taking this scrap of nothing off," I told her, taking the hem of her nightie and lifting. "I've decided I want to see your body properly. So arms up."

"I most certainly will not," Angela protested. "Now let me go. I want to go and get dressed."

"Far too late for that," I said, trying to sound kind and compassionate. "I'm taking your nightie off first, and I'd hate to have to tear it, so lift your arms."

A stretching of the nightie caused a slight ripping sound and Angela hastily lifted her arms. With the nightie off, I stepped back to enjoy a decent view of a very fine body.

Angela didn't even think of trying to cover herself. She was more indignant that worried or scared. She seemed to have the idea that I shouldn't be teasing her this way.

"You're like a little boy," she snapped at me. "I hope you're satisfied now."

I laughed.

"Angela, we're just getting started," I told her. "I intend to touch you quite a bit more before I let you go. Tell me, haven't you ever been curious about what a man's body looks like and feels like?"

"Not really," she said. "If I wanted that sort of information I can look it up on the internet."

"And you probably have at some stage," I suggested, "but it doesn't really compare to actually touching."

I unzipped my trousers and made sure my erection was outside my underpants, without actually taking it out of my trousers.

I moved closer to Angela, and she backed up a little. Only a little, as the dishwasher was right behind her.

"Now I'm going to touch you some more," I told her. "If you want to touch me go right ahead. I won't mind."

I took her hand and pressed it against the bulge in my trousers and then my hands were back on Angela. Not just my hands, either. My mouth closed over one breast at the same time as my hand closed over her pussy and started playing.

Angela, I noticed had not gone looking for my cock, which she could plainly feel under her hand, but neither had she moved her hand away.

I massaged and squeezed her lips, scratching lightly along them where that met, feeling them separate slightly, inviting me in. Going deeper I explored inside Angela. She was definitely virgin, I found, but hot and already wet, even if she didn't know why.

She gave a little squeak and jumped when my fingers grazed against her clitoris. At the same time her hand seemed to jerk convulsively and slipped past my fly to find what was there.

I gave her time to explore my erection, occupying myself pleasantly with exploring her body. It was soft in all the right places, with curves that eye and hand just had to follow. While I was doing this Angela was staring at me looking slightly shocked while her hand was running up and down my cock, feeling it carefully.

I finally disengaged, stepping back for a moment. Angela dropped my erection but her eyes swivelled down to look at it.

"Angela," I said quietly, "lift your leg."

I patted her right leg on the thigh to indicate which one I meant. Looking blankly at me Angela did as I asked and I caught it behind the knee and lifted it higher. She was now wide open to me and I stepped closer.

A slight adjustment as I closed with her and my cock slid into her as neat as you please. Angela gave a shocked gasp as I pushed straight past her hymen, brushing it aside as though it was nothing. Then I was pushing deeper into her.

She was tight and virginal and I could only press in slowly. My touching her had helped by getting her natural juices flowing and inch by inch I was pushing into her.

"What are you doing to me," she gasped. "What are you playing at?"

"Just relax and let it happen," I told her softly. "You know what's happening. You'll find it'll be just fine."

Her eyes were wide as she stared at me, not really believing I was doing this to her. She seemed to give a little blink each time I pushed in a little further.

"Are you raping me?" she asked, suspicion plain in her voice.

I gave another little thrust while shaking my head.

"I wouldn't do that," I assured her.

One last thrust and I was right inside her, pressed hard against her.

"You're having sex with me, aren't you?" she whispered. "I didn't say you could do that."

"You didn't say I couldn't," I gently pointed out. "Why don't you consider how it feels right now? Do you want me to stop?" 

She'd bloody better not say yes or I'd strangle her. My erection was screaming for some real action and I was forcing myself to hold still while she considered it.

"No," she said finally in a thoughtful voice. "You've gone this far and I admit I'm curious. It feels nice so far."

Nice? What a terrible word. I'd have to upgrade that to fantastic.

I hooked her leg around my waist and then encouraged her to lift the other so that she was firmly settled on my cock, legs around my waist and arms around my neck. Then I went for a walk.

Angela was gasping as she bounced slightly on my cock as I strolled along.

"What are you doing?" she gasped.

By that time I'd reached my bedroom. I opened the door and entered.

"Taking you to bed," I said, tilting her back so that she landed flat on her back, me on top of her.

Then I started trying to improve on nice. I drew back and then drove firmly into her, hearing her gasp at the onrush. A few more drives like that and she finally started to react to me, lifting her bottom as I came down into her.

"Good girl," I murmured. "And again."

She flushed, smiling, and eagerly pushed herself up against me as I came down on her again. Like I said, a very intelligent girl. Show her once and she catches on real quick.

From that point on it was a dual, my sword and her sheath, and my sword was put away hard and often. I made love to her, moving from my initial slow rocking to a full on pounding of her pussy with considerable strength behind each forceful drive, with Angela staying with me until the end.

And, quite frankly, I delayed that end for as long as possible. She was young and soft, keen and responsive, and it would have been a criminal act not to draw out the pleasure until she was ready.

All her other-worldliness vanished under my driving input. She moved from an intellectual to a passionate and sensual lover as though a switch had been flicked, and I was getting the benefit of her learning experience.

She was squealing eagerly towards the end, sensing something more was about to happen and wanting it. The squeal turned into a sudden scream when I gave up holding back and slammed down, letting me seed flood her.

She bucked frantically under me, clinging to my erection, desperate to hold onto me while her own climax raged through her.

I lay next to her afterwards, just holding her while she slowly settled down. When she finally seemed to have gathered herself together, I started talking.

"Now you know why you're supposed to get dressed when you wander around the house," I told her. "You've seen what can happen when you wander around half naked. I'll give you another example.

Just imagine that tomorrow you wander into the kitchen dressed the way you were this morning. That would tend to show you need another lesson about good house manners.

Just imagine yourself being put across my knee and getting your bottom soundly spanked for being a naughty girl. It would be so embarrassing for you, especially if there are others around. Then imagine being escorted back to your own room, bottom all red and smarting, and bent over the bed and ravished without mercy.

So think of that before you come wandering out half dressed.

Apart from all that, did you enjoy yourself?"

Angela looked thoughtful, then nodded.

"Yes," she said. "It was nice." 

"Nice?"

"Oh yes, quite nice."