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Facing The Consequences

By: krr1957



Chapter 1

"Those are my terms. Under the table, right here, right now."

He looked at her incredulously and wondered how a simple business lunch could have taken such a left turn. His immediate reaction was to laugh it off but the cool stare of her icy blue eyes told him that she was in total earnest.

Attractive as she was there was no way he was going to do it but he found himself checking out the adjacent tables notwithstanding.

"Look, you're a very beautiful woman but I'm a married man now."

"A married man who needs me to bend the rules for him so that he can stave off bankruptcy."

Everything about her bespoke her Finnish nationality; her slim, athletic, build, her thick blonde hair but most of all her perfectly proportioned face. Her high cheek bones and her full mouth gave the impression of always being on the verge of a smile but, at that moment, her expression was one of fixed determination. 

"So what is it to be?"

Only her accent betrayed her English upbringing. The slightly elongated public school vowels combined, even now, with a Nordic lilt gave her voice a certain sexiness but that was the last thing on his mind. 

In the scheme of things it was a small price to pay. This one contract would give the company the breathing space that it needed. He took another quick look around and then leaned forward and spoke conspiratorially.

"Look, I'll do it; but not here. Come back to my hotel."

"Don't try my patience."

He was surprised to find that the prospect of being unfaithful to his wife, even in this bizarre manner, made him feel guilty but, equally, he could not return to London without sealing the deal. Failure would not only take the company to the precipice it would bring some very unwelcome attention from Customs and Excise.

She saw the moment of surrender in his eyes and watched in amusement as he went through the pantomime of knocking his napkin off of the table. The only other customers in line of sight were two women who were engaged in animated conversation and neither of them looked as he bent down in a single movement and slipped beneath the table.

It was a table for four and the draped cloth was long enough to hide him from sight but he now felt totally absurd, that is until he saw her legs. She was wearing a tailored two piece business suit and somehow, completely unnoticed, she had managed to hike her skirt up to her waist. 

Sheathed in black stockings, her legs seemed to go on forever as his eyes drifted up to where her suspenders formed a stark contrast with her creamy thighs and then to her panties. He was guessing that their expense was matched only by their fineness. He could clearly see her labia, with their neat dressing of blonde hair, pressed flat by the gauzy gusset.

He felt a mix of emotions as he continued to stare. Guilt, arousal and distaste all vied for supremacy but it was pragmatism that won out. The sooner he started the sooner it would be over and so, having steeled himself, he leaned forward. 

He closed his eyes and, pursing his lips, he laid a gentle kiss on her sex.

"That's not going to do it. I want a little more enthusiasm."

She spoke just loud enough for him to hear but he cursed her nevertheless feeling sure that she would be overheard by the neighbouring table. He kissed more firmly and caught the first tang of her on his lips as, notwithstanding her outwardly cool demeanour, she started to become aroused.

"There's a good boy. Don't move."

She reached beneath the table and pulled her panties to one side.

"Lick me..."

"That wasn't the deal!"

He spoke in an angry whisper but she replied quietly but firmly.

"I've upped the ante. Now lick me or the deal's off."

He wanted to get up and storm out but, having come so far; he could not throw it all away. With the thought that, once he was reestablished, he would be able to crush both her and her company he did as he was told. 

He licked over her mound with a broad sweep of his tongue and was surprised to find that her close cropped pubic hair was already damp suggesting that she had been aroused for some time. This discovery disconcerted him. He thought that she had acted on a whim but he knew now that she had it planned all along. 

He could hear her nonchalantly perusing the menu as he continued with his labour and, as minutes passed, he wondered just how long it would be before she felt that her point had been made. He was about to bring an end to it when the waitress came to the table. 

He froze as her feet came into view but a sharp rap of the knee to the side of his head made it clear that she did not want him to stop. He took up where he left off only to find that she was even more aroused.

She ordered for both of them and, as the waitress left, she issued a new instruction..

"Get your tongue inside. Make me come."

All of his instincts cried out to him to put a stop to it but she was now so hot and wet that it was not going to take much more to bring her to the edge. Girding himself for one final effort, he pushed his tongue between the slick folds of her labia and then upwards to where her clitoris was already standing proud.

He flicked his tongue over the smooth kernel and within seconds her body became rigid, shaking almost imperceptibly, as she climaxed whilst at the same time trying to appear, to all the world, as though nothing untoward were happening. 

As soon as it was over he got back up but, as he instinctively looked across to make sure no one had noticed, it was to find that the two women who had previously appeared so engrossed were now staring right at him. 

He regained his seat and felt a flush of embarrassment come to his, already warm, cheeks. He wanted nothing more than to get up and leave but she sat serenely and totally unabashed. He still had his napkin in his hand but, as he brought it to his face, she snatched it from him.

"I think not."

He reeked of her arousal and she knew it. 

With every passing second his hatred increased but he could not afford to antagonize her. He waited until the main course was finished before he excused himself and went to the toilet where he was finally able to clean himself up. 

They skipped dessert and ordered coffee. When it arrived he reached for his briefcase.

"I have the contracts here. They just need your signature."

"Not here. Let's go back to your hotel."

"Look, I did as you asked."

His voice quavered with anger but she replied unhurriedly.

"How badly do you need this deal?"

Without another word she got up and, left with no choice, he followed her out. He was staying at the Scandic, just a little further down Mannerheimintie from the restaurant, and less than ten minutes later they were in his room.

"So what do we do now, fuck?"

He tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the disdain from his voice.

"Don't flatter yourself. Lie down on the bed."

He was at a loss. He had convinced himself that she wanted to go to bed with him and he was left with just the slightest feeling of unease. She had not told him to undress and so he laid down still in his shirt and tie. 

Once he was settled she took off her jacket and hung it over the back of the chair. As she turned away he glanced surreptitiously at her breasts which looked even more impressive now that she was only wearing a blouse.

"Just what do you want of me?"

"Of you? Nothing. You are nothing to me. Our deal has certain mutual advantages but I can do without it. The question is, can you?"

She came back towards the bed and then, without taking her eyes from his, she reached up under her skirt and slipped her panties down her legs.

Stepping out of them, she moved up onto the bed until she was straddling his shoulders. He was well built and as fit as any thirty year old could hope to be; it would have been a simple matter to throw her off but, sorely tempted as he was, he kept his anger in check.

The truth was that he was not a great fan of oral sex. He did it only because he knew it was expected of him He did not like the taste and, being fastidious, he hated what was, to his mind, the squalid nature of the whole process. Now, as she moved up over him, her sex just inches above his face, he felt that she had, somehow, tapped into his aversion.

Without another word she settled onto his face and flicked her skirt over his head. The black cashmere immediately plunged him into darkness and he had to fight to quell the mild claustrophobia to which he had always been prone. 

He waited for her to lift herself so that he could reluctantly use his tongue but she seemed content simply to sit there with her weight bearing down. After a moment or two it became painful and he decided that enough was enough but, just as he was about to dislodge her, she started to move. At first it was just a rocking motion but, slowly but surely, the degree of travel was amplified. 

To his absolute disgust she began to rub herself over the whole of his face a process which was facilitated by the fact that she was both hot and very wet. In the deep gloom beneath her skirt the air quickly became fetid and it seemed harder to breath. The only saving grace was that she seemed to be reveling in his humiliation and he was dimly aware that she was moaning as she picked up the pace. 

Her movements became less controlled and she was no longer moving back and forth but simply grinding herself onto his face as she worked her way towards her inevitable climax. When it came she froze in place and he could distinctly feel the pulsing of her sex followed by the warmth of moisture. Her moans gave way to a series of panted breaths which almost made it sound as if she was sobbing. 

Once it was over she climbed off him and adjusted her skirt. 

"Let me have the contracts."

He got up from the bed, his hair disheveled and his face ruddy and wet. He adjusted his tie but he knew that both it and his shirt were going into the bin as soon as she left. 

He took the contracts out from his case and she looked them over cursorily before signing. She handed them back and was on the way to the door when he spoke.

"Can you tell what the fuck that was all about."

She looked back at him and, for a moment, he thought he was not going to get an answer but, after a pause, she replied.

"In Gothenburg last year, at the annual conference, what was it you said to my boss? Oh yes, "Women would progress so much faster in this industry if they only knew when to offer a blowjob.""

With that she left the room and he was left wondering how the hell she had overheard what was intended to be a private, ribald, remark. 

Back in London, with the contract sealed, he felt that he could put off breaking the news about the companies share price to his wife. Nowadays, it was her money that was keeping the company afloat but it had not always been so.

When they had married he had been a successful footballer. He had served his dues in the lower leagues and had finally been signed up for the premiership. His salary was eye-watering and his rugged good looks ensured that there was a queue of commercial sponsors waiting at his door. It had all come to an end with one sickening tackle. His leg was broken in two places and despite going under the surgeon's knife more often than he cared to remember he was never able to fully recover. 

He tried his hand at football management but found that he was not cut out for it and so, taking the remainder of his compensation fund, he decided to invest his money in his father's wood pulp import business. 

It was a bold gamble. His father had been ailing for a number of years and the company was sharing his fate but he believed that, with a strong investment of capital, he could turn round its fortunes.

In retrospect he could see that he was, in part, motivated by his jealousy of his wife's success. Her public relations company was going from strength to strength and the press no longer talked of her in terms of being his wife. Her star was bright in the firmament and her name loomed large in the headlines with his in smaller print.

He quickly discovered that he was not gifted with business acumen but, for a couple years after his father died, he was able to keep things afloat by trading on his name and fading reputation. More recently, margins in the paper trade had grown ever tighter and it was only with his wife's intervention that he had been able to keep the company solvent.

He was sitting in his office congratulating himself on his Finnish coup when his secretary rang through.

"There's a Ms.Arral here to see you."

"There's nothing in my diary."

"She doesn't have an appointment but she says she's from the Fraud Squad."

He felt his blood run cold and his immediate reaction was to refuse to see her but she now knew that he was in the office and a refusal would appear suspicious.

"Show her in."

If he was already nervous then Ms. Arral's presence only made him more so. She was a tall, heavy set woman, and he put her age somewhere around forty. She had pleasant features but there was something about her dark brown eyes that bespoke a world-weary experience. 

"Ms. Arral, what can I do for you?"

She sat down without being asked and took some papers from her case. 

"I am here to ask you some questions on behalf of the Finnish National Board of Customs"

He desperately tried to keep his features composed.

"And how can I help?"

"They are conducting an investigation into the affairs of FinnSullu."

His instinct was to cover the contract that lay on his desk but fortunately it was face down and she would not be able to see that the document was signed on behalf of the very company she was investigating.

"May I ask what sort of investigation."

"As you are aware FinnSullu is a pulp exporter. Our Finnish colleagues believe that they may be producing alcohol without the appropriate licences."

He gave an internal sigh of relief. The distillation of wood pulp to produce a fiery tasting sprit had been a by-product of the industry for years. It had started off as a perk for employees but was now being marketed commercially and there was money to be made. He was surprised that FinnSullu was involved but at least they were not on to his particular scam.

"And what has this to do with me?"

"The Finns have had some of FinnSullu's people under surveillance. You met one of them two days ago in Helsinki and took her back to your hotel. Would you be prepared to tell me what that was all about?"

He decided to act indignant.

"I don't think that that is any of your business."

She gave a resigned sigh.

"You produced some paperwork and she signed it. We would simply like to know the nature of the documentation."

"This is outrageous!"

"Look, I'm simply asking for your co-operation"

"I'm not sure that I like the imputation. Do you know who I am? I think it might be better if we bring this conversation to a halt. If you want to talk to me again make a formal appointment. Now, if you would kindly leave."

He stood up to make it clear that the meeting was at an end but she made no move to leave.

"I'm sorry that you've taken that attitude. The Finn's have no particular axe to grind with you but I'm beginning to think that you're hiding something."

"I've had enough of this. Perhaps you would care to give me the name of your senior officer."

She looked at him for a moment without speaking as though coming to a decision.

"You didn't ask how the Finns knew that documents were signed in that hotel room."

He had surrounded himself in a cocoon of self confidence but she had just picked at a loose thread. He felt he had no choice but to brazen it out.

"Enlighten me."

"You were filmed; through a window and at a distance but the quality is good enough."

"You're bluffing."

An ominous smile came to her lips. 

"Let's put it to the test then shall we. I know what you did with that woman. I want you to do the same for me. If you do your wife need never know of the tapes existence if you don't...."

"That's blackmail!"

"You know, I do believe you're right, but someone has to teach you that you can't go around for the rest of your life treating people like shit just because you once had a name."

His thoughts crowded in on him. If a tape existed, and his wife was to see it, he was finished both personally and professionally. His guess, and hope, was that she was placing a bet. It was not an unreasonable assumption that he had taken the girl back to his hotel for sex and now she wanted some for herself. He flattered himself that he was an attractive proposition and she must have known that she was not the sort of woman who would normally attract a second glance from him. 

"So you want me to fuck you, is that it? Right here? In my office."

She simply put her papers back in her case and then looked up at him.

"Best of luck with the divorce."

He could not take a chance, he had to know for sure. 

"Just what is it you want from me?"

"You know exactly what I want."

He realized, in that instant, that she was not bluffing and, more horrifyingly, what she was expecting of him. 

"Look, I think we've got off on the wrong foot. Let me take you to lunch and we can discuss this like reasonable people."

"Save your smile. In the normal course of events I wouldn't go to bed with a man like you to save my life. You are vain, arrogant and conceited but that is going to make it so much the sweeter when you get down on your knees."

The thought that anyone actually saw him in that way was like a slap to the face but he could see that she meant every word. Then, in an echo of Helsinki, he heard himself saying.

"I'm a married man."

"Not for very much longer. Now what is it to be?" 

He could not believe that it was happening again but she had him painted into a corner. He glanced at the door, but he knew that his secretary would not disturb them, and she, seeing that look, knew that she had won.

For the next few seconds he stood frozen to the spot unwilling to bring himself to kneel and she was not going to make it any easier for him. She waited patiently until, with a resigned sigh, he dropped to the floor. 

As soon as he did so she lifted herself slightly in the chair and raised her skirt. 

"Take them off."

She was wearing black pantyhose, which had clearly seen better days, over a pair of nondescript sensible panties and he felt his stomach starting to rebel as he reached forward. She was not fat but her thighs were heavy and firm and it was a struggle as he tugged her underwear down her legs.

Once free she settled more comfortably in the chair and parted her legs. Her skin was good for a woman of her age but its pale lustre formed a stark contrast to her heavy growth of dark pubic hair. 

"How do I know you'll keep your word?"

"You don't. You'll have to trust me."

He knelt there weighing up his options once more, trying to find a way out, but his hand was weak and he was sensible enough to know when to fold.

"Get on with it. I have other appointments."

He hated her for her peremptory tone, as though this was not going to be the highpoint of her sex life to date, and he had a sudden fear that she would brag about it afterwards but then who was likely to believe her?

He leaned in uneasily and as he got closer he was pleased to catch the smell of a rose scented soap; the unkempt state of her pubis had had him worried about the standards of her personal hygiene. He decided to be bold. He closed his eyes and gave one long lick, repressing a shiver at the coarse texture of her hair against his tongue. 

With a second lick he was through the undergrowth but his tongue was assailed by a sharp tang. He wanted to pull away but he was experienced enough to know that she would take that as a greater insult; better to refuse altogether than to stop once having started. 


Facing The Consequences



He licked again, pushing his tongue between her outer labia, and this time the taste was fresher evidencing her growing excitement. He kept his mouth in place and licked along the length of the pronounced, fleshy, lips which seemed to clutch at his tongue as if they had a mind of their own.

He wanted to get it over with and he could tell that, despite her outward indifference, she was getting warmer but he forced himself to slow things down. She was lubricating heavily and he was able to slip his tongue deeper inside. 

He knew full well that he was not the world's greatest technician but he also knew that, for her, the thrill came as much from who he was as it did from the act itself.. 

He had never been with a woman older than himself and he somehow expected the taste to be different but he was agreeably surprised to find that it was no more or less pleasant than any of his former conquests.

He was getting hot and he could feel his shirt starting to stick to his skin but she was breathing harder and he hoped it would not take much longer. He eased his way upwards and was immediately taken aback by the prominence of her clitoris. This was not a discreetly hidden pearl . It felt large under his tongue, a smooth button mushroom and, for a few seconds, he licked at it with genuine fascination. 

She gripped the arms of the chair and, moving forward slightly to meet his tongue, her body began to shake. At first it was almost imperceptible but then she gave a single violent jerk as her orgasm overcame her. 

Even in the throes of rapture she was sufficiently alert not to make too much noise and she chewed on her knuckle as the rode out the sensations.

Once it was over he felt disgusted with himself. Even as she adjusted her clothing he made his way into his private bathroom and vigorously sloshed his face with water. When he re-entered the office she was sitting composed as though nothing untoward had happened but the reek of sex was still heavy in the air. 

"You know the way out."

"Ever the gentleman. Until next time."

"Now wait a minute, we had a deal."

"I told you I would not tell your wife about the tape, nor will I, but if I am asked to further my investigation into the affairs of FinnSullu you might be hearing from me again."

She left the room without another word and only then did he think to look down at the contract still lying on the desk.

Chapter 2

The contract , of itself, was not out of the ordinary and would not raise suspicion but he cursed the Finns for drawing the spotlight onto themselves. He needed two more weeks and he would be out of the woods; if, after that, there were prosecutions in Finland then there was one female in particular that he would be happy to see imprisoned.

The rest of the day seemed to drag as he caught up on neglected paperwork and at four o'clock he gave up. His secretary gave him an odd look as he said goodnight and, for a second or two, he wondered if she had heard something but, dismissing the thought, he headed down to the car park.

Three quarters of an hour later he was parked up on the in and out drive that fronted the six bedroom mock Georgian pile that he called home. It had been his house before he was married but, more recently, it had been his wife's income which had cleared the mortgage several years early.

He smiled at the thought. He had first met her after a match. He was touring the executive boxes signing autographs and making polite conversation with people who had no real passion for the game he loved. He hated this part of his job but it had to be done. 

The one thing that made it tolerable was the public relations girls. The club hired in the girls on match days and everyone knew that they were there simply to be easy on the eye and to stoke a few male egos. They smiled and pouted for the clients but the highlight for them was the chance to catch the eye of a big name player.

He had spotted Susan before she noticed him. Unusually, he took in her face to begin with. She was laughing with one of the Club's directors and he was smitten by her sparkling brown eyes and her Hollywood smile, the whole framed by a head of thick, expensively maintained blonde hair. 

Only then did he appreciate her very desirable body. 

In her heels she stood only two or three inches short of his own six foot one and he judged, from her toned legs, that she worked out regularly. And there was a lot of her legs to see. She was wearing a skirt with a hem well above the knee and she was having to lean forward to hear what the, still seated, director was saying.

The look on the face of the director was priceless and he was obviously having difficulty in keeping his eyes away from Susan's impressive décolletage.

He contrived to be at the bar as Susan replenished her drink and then he turned on the charm. She recognized him of course and she simpered as they all did. He quickly decided that she was going to be an easy conquest and so he was more than put out to find, at the end of the afternoon, that she had already left.

Over the next couple of days he could not put her out of his mind and finally he checked with the office to see which company she was from. He ordered flowers and sent them with an invitation to dinner. 

Sitting alone in the restaurant he was just coming to terms with being stood up for the first time in his life when she finally arrived. For a second or two he did not recognize her. She wore her hair up, making him appreciate just how beautiful her face was, and she was wearing a sensible, but clearly expensive, black dress which hugged her in all the right places. It could have passed for business wear or evening wear but the heavy lap top case that she was carrying suggested the former. 

She smiled and sat down.

"Sorry I'm late. My meeting overran."

Her voice was different, a little deeper and more self assured, and he was confused.

"No problem, the company must work you hard."

"Well I suppose that's up at me ...as I own it."

He suddenly realized that she had been toying with him and he felt a momentary flash of anger but now, if anything he found her even more desirable. Far from being the bimbo that he took her for she turned out to be one of the brightest women he had ever met with a determination to succeed that matched his own.

That night, for the first time in years, he did not wind up in bed on the first date. Instead, he embarked on a very traditional courtship, which culminated in a proposal of marriage exactly one year to the day later.

The marriage had remained solid, despite his personal tribulations, and he counted himself lucky.

He unlocked the front door and was surprised when Susan pounced on him with a theatrical kiss. She was dressed casually in jogging pants and a cropped top and he double checked the time.

"You're home early."

"I had to get ready for tomorrow."

He had completely forgotten. Her best friend was launching a new women's magazine and Susan was using some of her contacts to help out in an unofficial capacity. This included the use of the house for the launch party.

It was the first time that they had been home early together in weeks and his thoughts took a lascivious turn. He put his arms around her and backed her into the living room until they stumbled together on to the sofa. They undressed in a frenzy but just as he was about to release his erection from his tented undershorts she pulled herself free.

"I nearly forgot. We had a phone call."

At that moment he did not care. The sight of her naked body had excited him as it always did and his need was ever growing.

"It was from the bank. You might want to call them."

There was something in her voice. Was it guilt?

He paused for a moment waiting for her to continue.

"I'm sorry. I gave a cheque to the garage and used the wrong cheque book. I put it on your business account instead of mine."

"So what's the problem? Your signature is good on that account."

"Well it was only for a hundred or so but the bank say it's being dishonoured."

Alarm bells started ringing in his head. He knew that the recently extended overdraft facility was being stretched but he thought that there was still some slack. He decided to play it cool and began to kiss his way down her neck.

"It will be a mistake. I'll sort it out tomorrow."

He shifted himself slightly and trailed the tip of his tongue across the top of her breast.

"Are you sure? Shouldn't you call now?"

The last thing he needed was for Susan to get wind of his current financial predicament. He closed his mouth gently over her distended nipple and licked in a lazy circle feeling the pronounced dimples of her areola. 

He had always loved her breasts. They were a matched pair of firm gourds crowned with dark nipples which formed two almost perfect circles. Susan was convinced that one was slightly larger than the other but he could never see it. The truth was that nature had blessed her and, over the years, he had seen the envy in other women's eyes.

She gave a moan of satisfaction and he hoped that she was now sufficiently distracted. He eased a hand between her legs desperately hoping that she was already wet because his erection was demanding unseemly satisfaction.

"There's nothing wrong is there?"

Her tone was one of genuine concern but it only served to increase his irritation not least because it signaled that she was not yet ready. He had to do something to focus her attention more completely.

Reluctantly, he moved lower lavishing kisses on the flat plane of her stomach. He had not gone down on her for quite some time, notwithstanding some obvious hints, but it was the one thing that was guaranteed to clear her mind of any other thoughts.

"That's nice babe..."

She squirmed beneath him raising her hips slightly and he eased his tongue into the deep pit of her navel. He played there for a moment or two but he knew that he was only putting off what he had to do.

She was lying along the length of the sofa, which had no arms, and he moved again allowing his knees to drop to the floor. As he did so she opened her long legs and he found himself looking directly at her sex. 

She retained a neatly trimmed growth of blonde hair declaiming the recent trend towards total depilation as unwomanly but, in truth, he favoured the latter finding the prospect less unedifying. He had not said this to her because she would almost certainly have gone along with his wishes and he would have been expected to attend to her even more frequently.

Part of the problem was that he found her sex daunting. She had thick, pronounced, labia which seemed to part reluctantly at the apex to accommodate her large clitoris. Certainly it was the largest he had seen and when excited, as now, it appeared like a pink face in the depths of a hooded cloak. 

She may not have been aroused before but the prospect of what was about to happen had clearly gotten to her. Even as he watched her labia swelled a little and turned slightly darker whilst, at the same time, the scent of her arousal began to permeate the room.

From the early days he had noticed that her natural scent was strong, more potent than any of his previous conquests, but he had found himself inflamed by it until, that is, he went down on her. Now it was thick about him, he could almost taste it, and in some way it served to increase his reluctance but there was no going back.

He steeled himself and moved in between her raised knees but even now he hesitated. He was hovering over her sex and she shifted slightly giving the tiniest hint of impatience. He glanced upwards but she had her eyes closed and her hands joined behind her head as she waited. 

Seeing her like that caused a momentary flash of irrational anger. It was the suggestion that he was there for her pleasure and that he was expected to do all the work. It was a nonsense, of course; on other occasions he had been more than happy to be the passive partner. 

Finally, he took a deep breath and put out his tongue. He made a long sweep along the length of her sex eliciting a deep sigh and buoyed by this success he found a regular rhythm.

At first her labia seemed to resist him but after a few moments they yielded to his steady pressure and they enveloped his tongue as he slipped it inside. 

The inner lips were warm and wet and the sour taste of her was sharp on his tongue but as he continued to lick gently the taste softened and began to slowly fill his mouth. 

"That's it babe...eat me..."

It always jarred when she tried to guide him. He knew that he should be receptive to her needs but he had always hated being told what to do. For a second or two he was resentful that she did not seem to appreciate his own need but then he reminded himself why he was having to do this. 

He concentrated on what he was doing once more and played his tongue along her inner wings which were sensitive to a degree that her outer labia belied. 

"Yes...just like that."

She brought her hand down to the top of his head and moved it fractionally causing another rush of resentment but she was unaware of it as she gave an appreciative groan.

She had begun to leak, a viscous, creamy, offering and he was having to swallow to clear his mouth. 

"Do I taste nice...?"

He knew that there were some men who liked the taste, a few, perhaps, who craved it but he was not one of them. He did not actively dislike it but he was surprised that women, and Susan not least amongst them, believed that they were bestowing some form of manna from heaven. 

He was tempted to push his tongue deep inside and speed things along but he knew that it would only defeat the purpose and so he controlled himself and, for the next few minutes, he licked at the wet pink interior just within the outer portal. 

"That's so good...you're really getting me wet."

He needed no telling. Her sex was weeping juices and his perspiring face was slowly being coated. 

He had no idea how long he had spent between her legs but his neck was beginning to ache and, to avoid any greater discomfort, he eased himself upwards and prepared to assault her clitoris.

"Not yet...I'm not ready."

He could not quite believe that she had said it; she had never been critical of his performance in the past. She settled back again, expecting him to take up where he had left off, and he was confounded. He wanted to protest but, more, he wanted to sate his own urges. His erection still showed no sign of flagging and her ever warmer sex teased him to an even greater degree of arousal. 

He forced himself to remain calm and, surrendering once again to the ache his neck, he resumed his former position.

"Take it slow..."

She said it almost dreamily and he began to wonder just how long he was going to be expected to keep this up. He began to lick again and she playfully squeezed his head in appreciation.

He laboured for several more minutes and he was amazed that she was still as wet as ever but now, finally, his mind began to wander. Almost immediately she sensed the lack in concentration. 

"Do it nicely..."

He vowed that next time he had her down on her knees he was going to mete out some instructions of his own but, for now, he gave her his full attention once more. He did all he could, short of licking her clitoris, to raise her to a peak of excitement and finally he heard the words he was waiting for.

"Now babe..."

She used her fingers to open herself putting her plump clitoris fully on display and he immediately went to work. He alternated broad sweeps of his tongue with a rapid flicking motion and her body began to respond.

Her spine stiffened as she pushed her hips at him.

"Suck me..."

He took the swollen bud between his lips sucking gently whilst still using his tongue and her body began to rock. At first the movements were controlled as she sought out the natural rhythm of her impending climax but, as it rose to a crescendo, she allowed it to take hold and then she was torn back and forth as the waves of pleasure broke over her.

He was wrenched with her, and would have pulled away, but she was not to be denied. At the zenith she straightened her legs and crossed them behind his head crushing him to her as she crested the peak.

When she finally relented he had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from swearing. Her legs were incredibly strong, from long hours spent in the gym, and his head felt as if it had been crushed in a vice but she was oblivious to his plight as she tried to bring her breathing back to normal. 

He sat on the floor with his back to the sofa as he composed himself but, to add injury to insult, his erection had wilted and he was feeling cruelly denied. He was still feeling sorry for himself when she leaned down and kissed him on top of the head.

"Your turn lover. Come and lie here."

She slinked off of the sofa allowing him to take her place, which he did with alacrity, and then she began an erotic massage. 

Over the next few minutes she ran her hands skillfully over his whole body but deliberately avoided his manhood which was starting to regain its vigour.. He was not concerned. He had contemplated a violent coupling but he would be equally happy to avail himself of her delightful oral skills. 

He closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift whilst her teasing fingers moved ever nearer their goal and then he gave an inner smile as he felt the first delicate touch. She gently swept the back of her finger up along the length of his shaft and then repeated it over and over coaxing him to even greater arousal.

He began to lift his hips a little, hinting that he was ready, but he was not prepared for what happened next. She took a firmer hold of his manhood but, at the same time, she leapt lightly back onto the sofa. 

Too late, he opened his eyes, but with feline grace she was already astride his face with her damp sex pressing against his mouth. This was not what he wanted, and he felt almost childishly hard done by, but he was in no position to make an issue of it. 

Her hand was now doing delicious things to him and he decided that he would simply lie still but, just a few seconds later, she pressed herself more demandingly against his face. 

He did not find it pleasant; the moisture on her pubis had cooled and the smell of her was just a little less fresh. He turned his head slightly but, immediately he did so, her hand became still. 

From his vantage point, sealed in by her thighs, he could not gauge her mood. Was she being playful or not? He was almost overcome by the urge to roll her over and assert himself but, all else apart, she did not enjoy rough sex as she had made abundantly clear in the past.

There was nothing for it. He had to endure and so, once again, he put his tired tongue to work. 

Fortunately, it did not take her long to warm up again and she was soon leaking a fresher offering which he accepted with growing reluctance as he waited for her to take him into her mouth. 

Her fingers were weaving their magic and he needed to convey to her that he was getting close. He raised his hips slightly but, instead of leaning over him as he might have expected, she knelt a little more upright increasing the pressure on his face. 

He realized that she was more aroused that he had thought as she began to squirm with pleasure. For a few seconds he was forgotten as she focused on her own needs but then she shifted slightly and began to work his shaft furiously with her hand. 

He was desperate to feel her warm lips, that special way she had of drawing it out of him, but as she rode hard towards another climax it seemed that his needs were a secondary consideration.

She was pounding his face and the movements of her hand were a little less controlled. He had almost reached the end of his tether and was tempted to throw her off but then he felt his balls starting to contract.




Facing The Consequences



Seconds later her body stiffened over him and her sex grew distinctly warmer as she started to come but at the same time she pulled back on his shaft retracting his foreskin almost painfully. 

He held himself still. He did not want to come, at least not like this, but as she shuddered though her own climax she almost grunted with effort as she started to pump him mercilessly. 

He tried to resist but, in the end, his body betrayed him. He heard her shout almost triumphantly as he erupted and he could feel the warm gobbets as they spattered his stomach.

She remained on his face as she slowly recovered and then slowly dismounted. 

"Thank you darling."

She kissed him gently on the forehead but the fact was he felt cheated. She left him to go to the bathroom and then returned with a towel which he used to clean himself up as best he could. He had decided that, after dinner, they would make love again on his terms when he was rudely reminded how it had all started.

"It's too late for the bank now. Call them first thing and let me know how you get on."

Chapter 3 

That night he did not sleep well. He could not shake the notion that Susan had been aware of his discomfort and used it to her own advantage. The following morning he went into the office early and asked his secretary to arrange a meeting at the bank.

Unbeknownst to his wife the account was no longer being dealt with by the local branch. The increased levels of borrowing determined that the account was now on a cautionary list and it was being handled directly by the area office. They agreed to see him at short notice and he considered his strategy during the short drive across town.

After a short wait he was ushered into the office of Dimitra Chakos, his account handler. His bank had recently taken over the Cyprus Popular Bank and Chakos was one of the acquired staff who was being fast tracked.

He resented having his account administered by a foreigner and, but for his straightened circumstances, he would have taken his business elsewhere. Chakos was a large, matronly, woman somewhere in her mid thirties. Her face was pretty, in a Mediterranean way, and it was this, amongst other things, that had lead him to initially underestimate her.

In trying to renegotiate his overdraft he had bull-shitted her about the current state of the market and the prospects for his business. She had listened patiently and then produced figures of her own. She had turned out to be frighteningly perceptive and she tore his business plan to shreds. Only later did he find out that she was a Harvard economics graduate and a UK qualified accountant.

In the light of her analysis he should have been turned down flat but two things worked in his favour. Her brother, as it turned out, was a passionate football supporter and a little judicious corporate hospitality, courtesy of his former Club, helped to oil the wheels. The second thing was his personal charm. A little flattery went a long way and Dimitra had proved as susceptible as many others in the past.

"Dimitra, you are looking as lovely as ever."

She tried to maintain a serious demeanour but she could not stop herself from flicking the hair from her face. 

"You asked for a meeting?"

"That's right. There was a little misunderstanding yesterday. One of the company cheques bounced."

She said nothing but, instead, consulted a folder in front of her on the desk. After a long pause she answered.

"The cheque was the third to breach the new overdraft limit. We gave the benefit of the doubt on the first two but we couldn't sanction the third."

"Dimitra, you know what this business is like. It was just bad timing. There are funds being credited, probably in the account today."

"Then we don't have a problem. The cheque was dishonoured on a representation basis. Just tell the beneficiary to pay it in again"

Now he was caught in a bind. There were no funds being credited at present and he could not ask the garage to represent the cheque. He tried a different tactic. 

"It's a minor difficulty. What I really wanted to talk about was new developments. I have something big in the pipeline."

He made it a double entendre and it raised the vestige of a smile from her but she was quickly serious once more. 

"I can't do anything more for you on the basis of promises. We agreed that the new limit was the line in the sand; if the account is not put in funds by the end of the week the bank will call the loan and there is nothing I can do about it."

He sensed that she was genuinely sad at having to impart the news as she got up from her seat and crossed to the window. The time had come for the last throw of the dice. He got up and stood behind her. She was wearing a simple well-cut black dress, which helped to disguise her fuller figure, and he took hold of her shoulders.

"Dimitra, surely there's something you can do?"

She stiffened under his hands but she did not move away.

"A woman as beautiful as you...those gray suits must be putty in your hands."

She turned her face towards him.

"I can't...."

"Of course you can..."

He touched her lips to silence any further protest and then he kissed her. 

For a few seconds there was no response and he feared that he had badly misjudged but then her mouth opened to accept him and he knew all would be well. He reached over her to draw the blinds and then eased her down on to the guest sofa which filled the window bay.

With his lips still joined to hers he started to unfasten the buttons on her dress safe in the knowledge that the door would remain locked and the "Engaged" sign illuminated until released by the switch on her desk. 

She was returning his kisses with a passion and he felt his gorge rise but he was committed and had to keep up the pretence. 

Her dress was free and, with reluctance, he looked down at her body. He was surprised to find that she was wearing expensive, almost daring, underwear which seemed completely at odds with her otherwise conservative attire.

There was no disguising the fact that she was a big woman but her olive complexion somehow made her less unattractive. 

"So beautiful..."

With distaste he ran his hands slowly down her body and then slipped them into the waistband of her pantyhose. She was eager now and she lifted herself a little so that he could slip them down her legs. 

Desperation had driven him to this but it made things no easier. She was pulling at his tie, wanting him to undress, and only then did he understand that he could not play all his cards at once; he had to keep her on his side and that meant leaving her needing more. 

He gently pushed her hands away and she looked puzzled until he kissed her again whilst deftly unfastening her bra. Her breasts were heavy and it was clear that they would one day lose their fight with gravity but for now her dark nipples still thrust proudly skyward.

The areolae were large and heavily dimpled and for a few seconds, as he began to feast on them, he managed to forget who he was with but they must have been particularly sensitive because she began to groan and writhe beneath him.

He knew now what he had to do but the thought unnerved him and he continued to lavish attention on her breasts.

"Take your clothes off..."

Her voice was husky, expectant, and he could put things off no longer. He began to move downwards, kissing as he went, onto the heavy expanse of her belly. He caught the smell of a musky body lotion which was obviously doing its job as, despite her size, her body was mercifully free of stretch marks. 

He found himself lingering at her navel which was a deep set cave that tempted his tongue and, for a brief moment, he began to understand the fascination that Rubenesque women held for some men. 

"Please..."

There was no further talk of him getting undressed. He suspected that not many men had travelled this way and she was squirming in anticipation. From her navel a dark downy line marked the track and he followed it with his tongue until he reached the border of her prettily brocaded panties. 

She had her own hands under her hips, raising herself slightly, and he could see that she was desperately resisting the temptation to remove them herself.

He had now slid to the floor and was sideways on to her, which made for an awkward position, but she brought her legs together and lifted them. It was obvious what she wanted and words were unnecessary. He stroked upwards along her thighs and slid his fingers into her panties then, turning his hands slightly outwards, he began to pull them slowly down her legs. 

Almost at once he caught the ripe smell of her and he felt a tiny hint of queasiness but worse was to come. As her panties were removed she moved round on the sofa so that she was almost sitting upright. She placed one foot on the floor and cocked her leg so that the other foot was resting on the seat of the sofa. He found himself kneeling between her legs with nothing left to the imagination. 

This brazen attitude caused him to reevaluate her seeming modesty and had him wondering if he could go through with it. 

She had shapely calves but her thighs were as daunting as the rest of her body and there, seated right at the very heart, was her ripe, heated, sex. In common with other Mediterranean women she obviously waged a battle with dark body hair and she clearly went to some trouble. Her pubis was dressed with a thick growth but it had recently been shaved into a neat triangle leaving a shaded boundary where it was just starting to grow back in. 

At the centre all the hair had been removed from the area around her labia, which were themselves discrete, but the dark framing made for a wanton display which was emphasized by the sunshine streaming in at the window.

He wanted it over with as soon as possible but everything now depended on him making her feel wanted. With a great effort of will he moved closer and placed a delicate kiss on the spread of her inner thigh.

"Mmmm..."

The yielding softness was in stark contrast to Susan's toned legs and the comparison brought with it a pang of guilt but he told himself that he was doing this for their mutual benefit. 

He moved ever inwards, taking his time and kissing as he went. By the time that he reached the deep crease that marked the top of her leg she was groaning in anticipation. Her skin was clammy now and as he licked gently, plucking up courage to cross the divide, the taste was peaty.

He drew nearer still nuzzling the crinkly outer fringes of her pubis as he went and this excited her even more. He had not wanted to dwell here but it was so much to her liking that he was left with no choice. 

She had started to lubricate and it had been soaked up by the dark pelt which was damp beneath his nose and mouth. The sensation was distasteful but he licked for as long as he could bear it before moving on to his final goal.

She gave an audible gasp as his tongue made a first gentle sweep along the length of her sex which parted in welcome. He quickly found himself licking deeper in a warm, moist, interior. 

Perhaps unreasonably, he had expected her taste to be strong but, in reality, it was little different to any other in his experience and her natural scent was no more or less exotic. 

He continued to lick slowly, drawing her out, and he felt the tension increasing in her body. He knew that, were he to seek out her clitoris, he could take her over the edge but, much as he would have loved to do it, he kept his discipline. 

She was moaning and muttering the odd word in Greek, which meant nothing to him, but he grew resentful when she began to stroke his head in a clear show of endearment. 

He could take no more. He adjusted his position and latched on to her clitoris, which was surprising modest, and he began to flick it rapidly with his tongue. She immediately drew in a sharp breath through gritted teeth and, within seconds, her body began to judder.

She squeezed her eyes closed trying to stifle her own cries as the pleasure mounted culminating in a final surge of release that drained her body of energy leaving her slumped helplessly on the sofa.

He thought he had done enough but he needed to make sure. Despite her half-hearted protests he lapped at her sex cleaning up the residue of her climax but it became obvious that she had not completed her descent. 

Her taste had all but disappeared but then she started to well up once more. Almost immediately she shifted and he supposed that she was going to get up lest she appeared greedy but he was sadly wrong. She lowered her foot to the floor but kept her legs open. She rubbed at her thigh quickly to ease the stiffness but then she relaxed more deeply on the sofa and waited expectantly.

He had kept his station and now he resumed his ministrations. She had grown bold and now held her sex open for him laying bare her clitoris. Taking a deep breath he began to lick it as gently as he could and he felt it still slowly pulsing with excitement.

"You wonderful man..."

He wished that she would keep quiet but she continued to encourage him as he slowly carried her upwards once more. 

He thought that she would come quickly this second time but she now showed more self-control and seemed determined to savour the experience. After a few minutes he was beginning to flag and he was desperate for some fresh air but then he was caught unawares as her thighs closed about his head and he was kept in a painful vice as her orgasm finally took hold.

He felt awful, both physically and mentally, but the more so when he had to submit to a kiss. He told her that time was pressing, that he needed no relief and was happy simply to bring her pleasure. She called him a darling and kissed him fully on the lips. He knew then that she would want him again.

Chapter 4

He left her office safe in the knowledge that the garage cheque would now be honoured and that he had secured the few days grace that he needed. She had smiled broadly as she noted the date of their next appointment in the diary but, if all went well, it was an appointment he was determined not to keep.

He returned to his own office and, having fired up his laptop, he nervously checked his inbox. It took a moment to scan through the clutter but then he found the e-mail he had hoped to find and he rubbed his hands together. The first bid was in and he applauded his own cleverness.

The recent floods in Pakistan had had a two fold effect. Their two main paper mills were temporarily out of commission at a time when, because of the new UN initiative, the demand for paper product was at its highest. In collaboration with a number of aid agencies the UN had recently evaluated a rigid, low cost, temporary structure for housing refugees.

It had the benefit that the materials could be produced locally, in volume, at low cost and construction was simple. 

The new structure, made from treated card, would not last as long as a traditional tent but it was more wind resistant and thermally much superior. The only drawback was the high grade of wood pulp needed for production. Pakistan relied on New Zealand for its wood pulp imports but the ongoing stevedores dispute in that country had temporarily halted supplies.

In truth, he had picked up all of this information at a recent trade conference but he saw the opportunity. The only other major supplier of graded pulp was FinnSullu and he now held options to buy all that they could produce in the next six months.

None of this was illegal. FinnSullu knew the situation as well as he did but by contracting with him they achieved an attractive fixed profit and, if he reneged, they had a charge over his company shares which, even at their reduced trading price, would still more than cover their losses. 

The risk was all his. He was leveraged many times beyond his means and, technically, he was trading whilst insolvent, which was an offence, but if the gamble paid off he was made.

The first bid was attractive but he knew there would be others.

He found it hard to concentrate for the remainder of the morning and he took an early lunch. He went to the gym and, after a rigourous workout, he treated himself to a sauna. He could not be bothered to go back to the office and decided that he would drop into his golf club and see if anyone was available for a round. 

He arrived home to collect his clubs to find that the drive was crowded with cars. Only then did he remember the launch party. He felt mildly resentful at the intrusion but Pam was Susan's best friend of long standing. 

Her new venture was a female version of the traditional lads mag and he thought that it was doomed to failure. He knew that Susan had offered to sink some money into the project but Pam had refused preferring to confine herself to venture capital. That had not stopped Susan from helping in any way she could and that included the loan of the house and the judicious invitation of a couple of prominent media personalities.

He hoped to be able to sneak in, change, and sneak back out again but, once inside, curiosity got the better of him. The event was taking place in the basement, which had been recently stripped of plaster pending a damp proof treatment, and he could hear the sound of a pounding dance track and raucous female laughter. 

Susan had spoken to him about it but he had to rack his brains to remember what she had said. He approached the stairs to the basement and the musty smell hit him immediately making him wonder why on earth she might think it would make a good venue. 

As soon as he started down the steps he could see exactly why. The basement was large, stretching beyond the width and length of the house and they had been told that the previous owner was a serious wine buff. As his eyes accustomed themselves to the eerie lighting he saw that it had been decorated in the style of a medieval dungeon. 

The buffet was set out on rough hewn trestle tables ranged round the walls which themselves had been dressed with hanging chains. Also in evidence were three large wine casks from which the guests were helping themselves. The strange lighting was a result of a large brazier set in the centre of the room.. The coals were artificial and the lighting electric but the effect in the low ceilinged space was unarguably effective.

When he reached the bottom of the stairs he could see to the end of the large space and he gave a smile. The female guests, wine glasses in hands, were milling around various instruments of torture. There was a rack, a pillory and an iron maiden each of which held captive a well oiled male model wearing nothing more than an abbreviated thong..

Hanging over the tableau was a banner bearing the new magazines tagline "Putting men back in their place."

"Darling!.." Susan spotted him and came across "...this is a surprise."

She looked stunning in a tight black cocktail dress that he could not remember having seen before.

"I just dropped by to pick up my clubs. Looks like you're having fun."

"It's going very well, but I'm afraid it's girls only."

Only then did he notice. Apart from the three "torture victims" he was the only man in the room. 

"No problem, I'm on my way."

"No, stay, have a glass of wine. 

He turned to find Pam at his shoulder proffering a glass. She too looked resplendent in an abbreviated red dress which showed off her impressive body to an immodest degree. 

He had never been able to put his finger on what it was about Pam that still irritated him after all this time. Possibly it was because she had known Susan for so much longer and he got the sense that she felt that her best friend could have done a lot better for herself. 

"No, I'll leave you to it."

Pam touched his shoulder and gave a mock pout.




Facing The Consequences



"Please, you'll be doing me a favour. One or two of the guests have recognized you."

It was true. He was aware of a couple of groups discretely nodding in his direction. His reputation may have faded but he still liked having his ego stroked and he decided that he would stay for one glass.

In the event he stayed a lot longer. Women were introduced and he regaled them with stories of his glory days; two of them even asked for autographs. One woman seemed particularly enamoured. She was a little older than the rest, somewhere in her forties, and a football enthusiast. She looked good for her age and obviously went to some expense to maintain her appearance. As she talked to him it was obvious that she had had a lot to drink and she became very touchy-feely.

As time went on it the wine flowed freely and he felt himself getting just a little light headed. In fact the only person in the room who appeared fully in control was Susan as she wandered from group to group ever the consummate professional.

At some stage he had lost his jacket and tie and he was taken by surprise when the older woman suddenly slipped her hand inside his shirt. He moved away and laughed it off but he could see that the poor male models had now become fair game. Some of the women were now pawing them and he even thought that he saw a hand dipped into a pouch.

Susan, ever aware, immediately began to wind things up. Pam seemed disappointed but people were gently encouraged to leave and Susan unfastened the lads from their bindings.

There were just a few hardier drinkers left when she came and spoke to him.

"Can you hold the fort? I'm going to take the boys upstairs and show them where they can get showered and then I'll organize some taxis for them."

Happy to play the genial host he joined the remaining guests who had gathered around the rack. He found out later that Susan's company was doing some P.R. work for a film company and she had been able to call in a favour from the props department. 

"I want a photo!"

The older woman had produced a camera phone which she handed to Pam as she draped herself on his shoulder. Pam stood back to frame the shot but then had an idea.

"Lie down."

He looked at the rack dubiously but they all began to egg him on and, not wishing to appear a spoilsport, he climbed into the frame. 

"Take your shirt off, let's make it look authentic."

He cursed Pam, thinking this was a step too far, but willing hands were already undoing his buttons. He smiled with as much good grace as he could muster and laid himself down anxious to get it over with.

The frame was constructed of rough timber and proved extremely uncomfortable and the more so when they insisted on fastening his wrists in the leather cuffs. Over the next minute or two they all took their turn standing over him whilst photographs were taken. 

"Just one more."

It was the older woman who had spoken and, as she came to stand beside him once more, she deftly slipped her hand under his waistband and into his trousers.

"Hey stop that!"

He tried to keep it playful but she made no move to remove her hand which was now worming its way into his under shorts causing an unwanted stirring.

"Come on, enough's enough."

"Are you sure? Someone seems to be enjoying it."

Her warm fingers now had hold of his manhood which, despite his protestations, was quickly coming to erection.

"Don't hog him. Let's all see."

Other fingers began to tug at the zip on his trousers.

"Come on. Let me up. My wife will be back in a moment."

He smiled but there was a definite edge to his tone and then Pam moved into view. Any past feelings apart he was glad to see her. It was her event and she would bring a sense of order to the proceedings.

She looked down at him and then, with an odd smile on her face, she turned to the women gathered round.

"I need to go upstairs to have a word with Susan...I may be a little while."

He looked at her in disbelief as she walked away leaving him at the tender mercies of the drunken harpies. 

"Pam! Get back here!"

He was almost drowned out by a cacophony of jeering laughter and then he felt hands on his legs.

He should have kicked out but some ingrained sense of good manners would not let him strike a woman and he tried once again to laugh it off. 

"Look, you've had your fun, now let's not spoil it."

His ankles were now secured in the same way as his wrists but there was still plenty of play in the restraints until someone playfully decided to turn the wheel. At first there was no obvious effect, just a loud theatrical clacking as, somewhere beneath him, a ratchet was engaged but then he began to feel an inexorable pressure. 

"Stop that! It's not funny!"

His anger only served to fuel their devilment and the woman at the wheel, encouraged by the others, gave it another turn. 

He tried to resist the pull but it was fruitless. The device may only have been a prop but, mechanically, it was ruthlessly efficient. Within seconds he was stretched almost painfully tight and it took him a moment to realize that the older woman still had her hand deep in his crotch and that he was now fully erect.

"Stop fucking about!"

Since his playing days he rarely swore, and never in front of women, but he decided to shock them back to sobriety. 

For a second or two there was an awkward silence but then the older woman broke the tension with her next cackling remark.

"Are you telling us you're not enjoying it?"

The others laughed with her as she freed her hand and then grabbed hold of the waistband of his trousers. Without warning she wrenched both his trousers and his under shorts midway down his thighs.

There was a collective gasp as his erection was revealed and, almost immediately he felt hands begin to stroke him. 

He was proud of his manhood, which he knew to be slightly longer than average and thick in proportion, but to have these women treat him as though he were a piece of meat sickened him. He jerked violently, to the extent that his restraints would allow but that was not much at all. 

"He's getting too excited."

"I'll calm him down."

It was the older woman who had spoken. From somewhere she had acquired another glass of wine and, holding it carefully, she climbed up onto the frame. For a second or two she stood over him unsteadily but then she knelt down straddling his chest.

She was no heavyweight but she was pressing down onto his lungs which were already expanded by the position he was in and when he cursed her it was with difficulty.

"Get off me you bitch."

She remained unmoved and looking down at him she raised her glass before taking a sip. 

A more knowing hand had now taken hold of his erection and it only now occurred to him that they might want to see him come. The movements of the unseen fingers were slow and purposeful and notwithstanding his predicament he felt himself responding.

They were a lot quieter now and the older woman decided that she did not want to miss the fun. 

"Wait a minute. I want to see."

With an effort she gained her feet but, as she turned round, she stumbled and fell heavily onto his face. Without thinking she immediately tried to get up but a fresh chorus of cheers made her pause.

"Does he like it under there?"

Her woolen skirt was draped over his head and the voice seemed to come from afar. In response to the question she wriggled herself bearing down more heavily in the process. 

"Who could resist me?"

Her panties covered his face and their satiny texture suggested expensive tastes but, just then, all he could focus on was the fact that they were disgustingly damp.

He began to struggle again but it availed him nothing. She kept her place and even made herself more comfortable. After a few seconds he calmed down but now he was hot and breathing hard.

The hand holding his erection had remained still whilst he struggled but, as soon as he relaxed, it found its former tantalizing rhythm. 

"Make him come!"

He was, more than ever, determined to resist them, he was damned if he was going to come for their amusement, but he now felt his balls cradled in a warm palm whose owner knew her business.

He was on the point of surrender when the same woman who had wanted to see him come interceded once more. 

"Wait! If he's getting his jollies then our friend here should too."

There was brief moment of hesitant silence and then a renewed chorus of encouraging cheering which reached a peak as the woman on his face stood up once more. 

He took the opportunity to fill his lungs and prepared to make another entreaty but he could see that they were all gripped in wine-fuelled frenzy and he knew that nothing he said was going to deter them. 

Above him the woman had raised her skirt theatrically and, in a poor imitation of a stripper, she eased her panties over her hips and he could do nothing but watch as they slid down her bare legs to fall on his face. 

He tried to shake them free but she opened her legs slightly and stretched them between her ankles. He had no choice but to breathe through them and his audience found this highly amusing. 

He had had enough and he prepared to bellow as loud as he could to attract Susan's attention. The cellar was deep and he knew that if she was on the first floor there was little chance of her hearing him but his tormenters did not know that.

He made ready but, just then, she carefully slipped one foot out her panties and then flicked them on to the floor. He found himself staring at her sex and was surprised to see that it was immaculately depilated. 

It seemed so incongruous; despite her obvious excitement her womanhood was almost childlike. The smooth mound, with its clam-tight slit, looked shy, as though it did not want to face the world but he guessed that she was a woman of some experience.

The thoughts were barely formed before she bent her knees and unceremoniously dropped herself onto his face once more. Even as they cheered he shook his head violently but her thighs limited his range of movements and they simply assumed that he was cooperating excitedly.

He quickly found that he was mistaken about the nature of her sex. As her weight bore down it spread over his mouth with an unexpected pliability and wetness but, worse still, as she rode out his struggles his nose was pinched closed and breathing suddenly became very difficult. 

He forced himself to be calm.

"How's his tongue?"

"I think he's shy."

"Well let's give him a bit of encouragement. Take hold of him."

The warm hand working his shaft relinquished its grip and was immediately replaced by someone with a less subtle touch. At the same time he felt has balls being gently kneaded and then a single finger began to brush against the bulb of his manhood. 

He was in no doubt that it was the same woman who had hold of him before. She rubbed him in a gentle circular motion moving from the very tip and then down and over his sensitive frenum. 

His body stiffened and he felt himself on the edge of a spectacular orgasm but she kept him at the brink refusing to let him go. The strain made him sweat and in the following moments he felt himself growing breathless.

Such air as he could draw was warm, moist and impregnated with the smell of sex. He was slowly becoming light headed and he knew there was only one thing he could do. 

"Oh God!" 

Her body stiffened as he put out his tongue and plunged it deep inside her. 

"He's doing it!"

She raised herself slightly to give him freer access and he was able to breathe more easily but she was leaking copiously and it was cloying at the back of his throat. He began to lick more purposefully not only to get it over with but also to encourage his unseen tease to bring him the relief he now so desperately needed.

Above him the woman leant forward slightly to make her clitoris available to him and he tried to oblige but, trapped as he was, he could only lick as she presented herself. He flicked his tongue and it seemed to have the desired effect. Her body began to shake and he could hear her beginning to moan.

He was a hairs breadth from coming himself but the finger was now moving tantalizingly slowly causing his body to stiffen in anticipation. He found that he was panting and this was enough to finish her off. She ground herself on his face, trapping his tongue, as she tried, unsuccessfully, to restrain her cries of ecstasy.

It was over mercifully quickly but he was angered as the others applauded her effort whilst he was still left unfulfilled. 

She climbed off of him, helped by the others, and retrieved her underwear. He was then able to raise his head to establish the identity of his tormentress and was surprised to find that it was Rhona, a woman he had been introduced to for the first time that afternoon. 

He had guessed that she was of Indian extraction, but it seemed impolite to ask, and she stood out as a plump specimen amongst this enclave of image conscious, power dressed, women. He had been told that, despite appearances, she was highly regarded in the marketing community. 

Her face had appeared the picture of innocence, and he had assumed a certain naiveté, but the part she had played, and the skill she had demonstrated, had him thinking again. He had put her age somewhere in the mid twenties but now he wondered.

As he looked at her she gave him a mocking smile, flashing a set of almost too perfect teeth, and then she teased her finger over the head of his still fierce erection. 

He gave a gasp as she paused, holding him in stasis, and then she looked away from him and addressed the others. 

"Who's next?"

He could not believe what he had heard and he sensed a general unease amongst his captors. They were all a little drunk but there was still a lot of sexual tension in the air. If they stopped now it could be laughed off as a prank but if they took it further it might be construed as an assault. Added to all that was the fact that his wife was still upstairs and might return at any moment but he suspected that it was the excitement that that possibility afforded that shaped events.

"I'll take a turn."

She was the youngest person in the room, an elfin blonde with beautiful icy blue eyes, and it was she who currently had a firm grip on his shaft.

Unlike the others she was casually dressed in a tee-shirt and designer jeans but it was an expensively cultivated look. Even her hair, which was cut short and sculpted into a series of spikes looked fashionably unkempt but was suggestive of high maintenance. Pam had introduced her earlier in the afternoon as the new magazines layout artist.

He began to protest but then lay transfixed. The blonde, in an alarming display of self-confidence, unbuttoned her jeans and then slowly pulled down the zip. The rasping sound cut through the tense silence and she looked happy at the effect she had created. She kicked off her trainers and then slowly peeled the tight denim down her legs.

Notwithstanding his predicament he could not help but stare. She stood in just her tee shirt, a white thong and a pair of white ankle socks. With her lightly tanned skin she looked extremely young but she exuded a maturity beyond her years. 

He sensed a hint of envy amongst the others but he was given no time for contemplation. One moment she was standing beside him but then she sprang gracefully up onto the rack. 

His heart was pounding as she now stood over him, hands on hips, and he could see that her thong was damply discoloured. As he looked he again became aware of his erection and the fact that Rhona had taken up where she left off with her wicked fingers. 

He found himself arching his body, willing her to finish it, but she read him so easily.

His breathing grew ragged and the young woman took this as her cue. She took off her thong and then went to her knees straddling his face.

He was immediately reminded of her name and it would stay with him indelibly. It was Wanda and the reminder came from her short blonde pubic hair which was perfectly shaved into a letter "W". 

She gave him a second or two to admire her artistic handiwork and then she lowered herself pinning his shoulders with her knees. Her pink inner labia were protuberant, and formed part of her design, but as she came to rest they spread over his mouth with an audible squelch. 

Warm moisture oozed from her as she made herself comfortable and, deliberately or otherwise, she was positioned in such away that his nostrils were pressed closed by her pubic bone. 

He had no choice but to breathe through his mouth accepting her leakage. The taste was strong, pungent, and somehow seemed at odds with her weight and colouring but it was clear that she had been aroused for some time. 

He remained as still as he could, determined not to give in to her, and still desperately hoping that Susan would return but Rhona had other ideas. She extended one finger of the hand that was cradling his sac and gently massaged his perineum. He thought that he had reached the threshold before but she was able to take him to new limits.

His body bowed as if charged with electricity and Wanda was totally in tune.

"If you want to come you know what you have to do..."

He hated her but his own urge for fulfilment was almost primal. She shifted fractionally to accept his tongue which he presented like an automaton. 

There was no finesse; he lay there rigid with anticipation as she squeezed his tongue with the supple muscles of youth. In the end she grew bored with his lack of animation and she simply began to ride his face scratching at his skin with her razored furze. 

He tried to shake his head to express his anger but Rhona squeezed him so that he was held poised somewhere between pain and pleasure. He was breathing like a long distance runner as Wanda worked herself towards her inevitable climax and, as she started to come, Rhona finally granted him relief.

She took away her hands and stroked at the head of his penis with just a single finger. It took only a few seconds. Her touch was so light as to be almost imperceptible but it drew him on and then, at the very moment, she stepped away from him altogether.

The others gave a loud cheer and so he knew he had come but he felt detached from it. The usual exultation was not there and his body was telling him he had been cheated. 

Wanda was still on his face savouring the aftershocks of her own intense orgasm but he was desperately trying to understand what had been done to him. He was conscious of his flagging erection and the final limp pulses but there was a complete lack of satisfaction. She had, somehow, milked him whilst denying him the ultimate pleasure.

He was still trying to come to terms with it as Wanda lifted herself away from him and proceeded to get dressed. He even looked down his body to the sticky matted mess of his pubic hair as if to convince himself.

Rhona, was now perceived as the leader of the group; the others deferred to her and not one of them made a move to release him. She stood, the centre of attention, and after a pause she spoke.

"Are there any more takers?"

One or two of them looked visibly surprised, his climax having seemed to provide a natural end to the proceedings, but, now that the seed was planted, he could see them having second thoughts. In the end no one plucked up the courage. The fact that Susan had been gone for some time obviously had a bearing and he waited with angry impatience to be freed.

Rhona looked around once last time and shrugged her shoulders.

"Well I guess it's just me then."

He watched, as stunned as the others, as she slipped off her shoulder straps and allowed her dress to fall to the floor. Amongst the gathering of the honed and toned she was something altogether different. She was carrying weight but it was in all the right places. 




Facing The Consequences



She was big breasted with a classical hour glass figure and, despite her tender years, there was something of the earth mother about her. The image was enhanced by her dusky natural colouring which was contrasted by expensive black underwear. 

He was at once angry, fearful and curious. Her breasts were enticingly supported by a practical, but fetching, bra and he found himself wondering what her nipples would be like. 

As though reading his thoughts she skimmed a hand over her breasts before stroking it down over her belly. He continued to stare as she slipped her hand into her panties and, such was the silence in the room, he could hear the rasping of her fingernails as she ran them through her pubic hair.

She allowed her hand to linger for a second or two and then she slid her panties off altogether. She stood proudly dressed in nothing more than her bra, black self-supporting tights and a pair of high-heeled court shoes but at first glance one might have assumed that she was also wearing a black thong. 

Her sex was covered with a thick growth of black hair shaved into a neat triangle the height of which hinted at a long, well hidden, slit. 

She took a step closer and then, without a word being said, two of the others offered their hands and helped her up onto the rack. 

"Don't even think about it. I will hurt you so help me."

She simply laughed at his threat and then, as the others had done, she knelt and straddled his face.

He bared his teeth and pulled fruitlessly at his bindings but she remained unfazed by his show of anger. She simply hovered over him and gently stroked herself wafting him with her scent which was overlaid with a hint of the patchouli oil that she used to tame her natural curls. 

Slowly but surely her sex peeled open and he could see an ever widening red gash in the heart of darkness.

"Make it good..."

She inched forward and his face was creased with anger.

"I'm warning you ...!"

"I don't think that you're in any position to make threats."

The others laughed but there was a nervous edge to it. They could see that he had been pushed beyond his limits and there was no longer any way that this could be considered as just a bit of fun. 

"Have you ever licked an Indian woman before? We take a long time to come to the boil."

"Try it and I'll bite you, and that's a promise."

His head was now boxed between her thighs and only his eyes could be seen but she had not yet sealed him in. She held his angry stare as she spoke again.

"Give it a turn."

For a moment or two nobody moved but then Wanda smiled and stepped forward. She took hold of the wheel with both hands and gave it a quarter turn and in response the pawl of the ratchet gave two ominous clacks. 

His body had accommodated the tension until that point but the increased strain caused instant pain in all his joints and not least his spine. To his horror his mouth opened slackly, as though in a silent scream, and he found he could not close it. 

Rhona allowed a few seconds for the implications to become apparent and then she moved a couple of inches forward before allowing her bulk to settle wreathing him in a smothering darkness. 

Her weight only added to his distress and, as her matted sex filled his mouth, he could not draw breath. He wanted to bite but he seemed to have no control of his jaw and some part of his mind wondered how she could know this.

She eased up very slightly and he sucked in air but it was tainted by the rich stench of her arousal. He continued to breathe raggedly but each moist inhalation seemed starved of oxygen. He had to get her to move but he was determined not to surrender.

Rhona, for her part, knelt serenely enjoying the feel of his panicked breathing and awaiting the inevitable. She squeezed her thighs a little more tightly about his head to make him a little hotter knowing that this would increase his discomfort.

He began to see flashes on the inside of his eyelids and he feared he would faint but his body had now come to terms with increased tension of the ropes and he could flex his jaw.

He made ready to bite but Rhona, with eerie prescience, instructed Wanda to turn the wheel a little more. His body immediately became rigid and his mouth was fixed in the same gaping rictus. 

He could not fight this. His shoulders felt as if they would become dislocated and every muscle was screaming its complaint. His existence was bounded by the tight dark embrace of her thighs, now slick with perspiration, and the insistence of her damp sex which seemed to be invading his mouth as if it had a life of its own. 

He had to lick her, to have it over with, and he reluctantly put out his tongue. As he broached her thicket of curls he heard a muffled cheer and he guessed that she was giving the others a running commentary. 

As soon as he parted the thick wattles of her inner lips she began to drip moisture. It came from deep within, a warm viscous flow that suggested a much higher state of arousal than her outward appearance would suggest. 

He was struggling blindly to please her, to get her to take some of her own weight, but in his stifling enclosure her sex seemed cavernous. Her labia enfolded him drawing his tongue deeper into the warm moist interior where her taste grew richer and she gave him an almost appreciative squeeze of her thighs as he began to swallow it down. 

With his tongue trapped she began to rock gently so that her pubis grazed his already sore lips but he was at last able to breathe a little more easily. 

She kept up the same easy rhythm for what seemed like an eternity, but was in reality no more than a few moments, and he was vaguely aware that she was still talking unconcernedly to the others.

A single loose hair had now found its way to the back of his throat and he wanted to use his tongue to work it out of his mouth but she was unrelenting. He managed to overcome the urge to choke and carried on licking as deeply as he could.

He could feel his raised pulse pounding in his temples and he found himself counting the beats but the count rose into the hundreds as she continued to take her pleasure unhurriedly. He thought that he could take no more but the choice was not his.

Finally, he sensed a subtle change in the murmuring background and he wondered if there was some suggestion of Susan returning at last. This seemed confirmed as Rhona finally lifted herself off of him but it was only a temporary respite. She used her fingers to open herself more widely revealing the pink bud of her clitoris against a raw red background.

"Lick it."

He wanted to defy her, knowing that something was now causing her to hurry, but she was not going to be denied.

"Wanda, turn the wheel. Don't stop until I tell you."

The young blonde reached for the wheel with an almost sadistic eagerness but her intervention was unnecessary. He knew, as Rhona did, that his body was at its breaking point and that he had to comply. 

She settled once more, this time a little more gently, to allow him to go to work and he extended his weary tongue for one final time. It did not take much. She had obviously been holding herself on the edge and, after a few seconds her body began to shudder and she threw back her head. 

A feline growl escaped her throat and his mouth was filled with a mist of her juices as the pent up tension of her orgasm was finally released. At the very end she could not resist the opportunity to run her heated sex over his whole face but then she was a model of brisk efficiency. 

She quickly got up and dressed herself whilst two of the other girls cleaned his face with napkins moistened with mineral water. Other hands released his bindings and he made ready to raise hell but at that precise moment Susan and Pam came back down the stairs. 

"I hope you've kept everyone amused."

He was at a complete loss for words. To tell her that he had been raped in her absence seemed nonsensical and he realized, instinctively, that he would wind up sounding complicit. With his anger boiling dangerously he walked across to the trestle tables and gulped down a full glass of red wine. 

Susan was gently urging the others towards the stairs with talk of coats when Pam came up to him.

"Did you have a good time?"

"What the fuck kept you so long?"

"Well you know what these models are like, forever preening themselves, but you would have to admit that they were very easy on the eye."

"It was supposed to be a quick shower and a taxi..."

"We had to offer them a drink it was the least we could do."

"Leaving me down here to entertain your coven of friends."

"What's the matter? Didn't they look after you?"

Something in her amused tone of voice made him suspect that she did, in fact, have some inkling about what had transpired but he could not prove it and his anger got the best of him.

"Go fuck yourself."

Still unfazed she looked him in the eye and smiled. 

"Oh don't worry. That's already been well taken care of..."



Chapter 5

Pam's cryptic remark played on his mind for days. He had never had reason to doubt Susan's fidelity but, following the party, she showed an unusual coolness towards him.

But if things were out of kilter at home they were going from strength to strength on the work front. Higher bids were coming in almost hourly and he was sitting on a paper fortune; it was just a question of when to close the deal. The figures had already exceeded his expectation but, if he were honest with himself, it was not just about the money any more. He wanted to make a point and he wanted to make it at the expense of a certain young woman at FinnSullu.

He decided that he would leave it for just one more day. 

He smiled to himself and switched off his computer. It was his secretary's birthday and he needed to buy her a gift. Cheryl was a temp but she had been with him for six months and, now that things were on the up, he was minded to offer her a permanent position. He knew that he was hard to work for but she had proved remarkably efficient. Only a year earlier he had had a staff of three but his downturn of fortunes had necessitated drastic action. He was now a sole trader, a middle man, and, in truth, Cheryl was doing far more than was expected from her job specification.

He bought her perfume and, as he came back into the office after lunch, he placed the gift wrapped box on her desk in front of her.

"Happy Birthday."

She looked at him with genuine surprise as she picked it up.

"This wasn't necessary."

"My pleasure."

He suspected that she had a crush on him, notwithstanding the fact that she had a boyfriend, and he presumed that that was why she was always prepared to go the extra mile. 

She was twenty-five that day but no one would have been surprised if she had claimed it to be her twenty-first birthday. With her innocent green eyes and cheeks prone to blush she looked like a perpetual student. She always dressed conservatively but her clothes hinted at a desirable body and he would not have been a man if he had not cast a surreptitious glance in her direction now and again. 

"Cheryl, how would you like to stay on here permanently?"

For a few seconds she appeared flustered; the colour rose in her cheeks and she said nothing but then she managed to gather herself. 

"I guess I should be flattered but, the fact is, I don't like working here."

Now it was his turn to be discomposed.

"Is there a problem?"

"Look, I've just completed my law degree at evening classes, now I want to make use of it."

Her intelligence had never been in doubt but he felt it was remiss of him not knowing that she was undertaking studies after hours. He could have been more supportive. He began to dissemble.

"I wasn't offering you a secretarial post. I want a personal assistant and the salary would be commensurate." 

There was an awkward pause whilst she weighed her words carefully.

"I wouldn't want to be a p.a. to someone like you."

His ego bruised he replied tersely.

"What do you mean someone like me?" 

She surprised him by replying in the same tone.

"Someone so vain...someone who is prepared to have sex in the office."

This last was blurted out and she looked as though she wanted to take back the words but he had already latched onto them.

"What the hell do you mean? I've never had sex in the office."

"Is that so?"

She raised a dubious eyebrow and reached into her drawer. As he watched she took out the tape from her dictaphone and replaced it with another. At first he heard the sound of his own voice, a letter he had dictated some days ago, but then there was another voice which it took him a few seconds to recognize until he realized what was being said.

"Yes!...Now!...Get your tongue deeper!"

The voice was urgent but restrained and it was unmistakably that of Ms Arral.

He leant forward and jabbed the eject button ripping the tape from he machine.

"Don't you want to hear more? There's plenty of it. My friends think it's hilarious."

He dropped the tape to the floor and crushed it underfoot.

"How the fuck did you get this!"

Her face flashed to anger.

"I've been telling you for weeks that the inter-office phone is broken. When I pick up the receiver I can hear every word you say."

It was true, she had been on at him to get it repaired but the phone bill was one of many that had remained unpaid and, under the circumstances, he could hardly request a service call.. 

As so often in the past his temper got the better of him.

"Clean out your desk and go...right now."

For a second or two she looked a little taken aback but then she reached for her handbag.

"You still owe me two weeks wages."

"You can bloody well sue me for it!"

It was a stupid thing to say but his pride would not let him retract it. Cheryl looked lost for words and finally turned to go but she stopped on her way to the door and then came back.

"That was not the only copy. My friends have been passing them round. It's become a dinner party classic."

"Is this a feeble attempt at blackmail?"

"I'm sure your wife wouldn't find it so amusing."

He was thinking more clearly now. He was almost sure that he had said nothing during his assignation with Arral, his mouth had been otherwise occupied, but he had no way of knowing where the recording began or ended. He tried to calm himself and be more conciliatory. 

"Look, let's not part like this. Of course I'll pay you and there'll be a small bonus as well."

If anything her face grew more angry.

"You can't charm your way out of this one. You've treated me like a shit once too often."

She opened the desk drawer and took out the petty cash tin. She opened it to reveal a bundle of well used notes which she began to count onto the desk.

"Radcliffes obliged you with the cash payment you wanted whilst you were out. I'll take what's owing to me plus another fifty; I think that's fair."

He was slightly amused as he had had a rather larger bonus figure in mind but if she wanted to be bloody minded than so be it.

She put the cash into her bag and made to leave but then seemed to have an afterthought.

"No..why should you get off so lightly."

He thought that she was going to help herself to some more cash and he put a hand on top of the tin but he was dramatically disabused. With a quick glance at the door she put her bag down on the table and reached under her dress. He watched dumbstruck as her panties fell to her ankles. She bent swiftly and, scooping them up, put them into her bag.

"Come on then stud...show me what you can do."

This was not the Cheryl he knew. She sat back down and, with a lewdness that he would have considered beyond her, she opened her legs and hung them over the arms of the chair.  

Her pale, bare, legs, were long and shapely but his eyes were drawn to her sex. She was a natural redhead, and she retained a modest growth, but this merely emphasized the vivid colouration of her mons which seemed to have flushed in sympathy with the anger reflected in her cheeks. 

In Pavlovian fashion he felt the stirrings of an erection and his hand moved unconsciously towards his belt buckle but she brought him up short.

"Think again stud...."

Only then did it occur to him that she might have found the tape arousing and, with that in mind, it was now clear what she wanted. 

"If you think that..."

"....that's exactly what I think. Either you do it or the tape goes into the mail."

He could not believe the way that the fates were conspiring against him. Had someone told him that he could have been forced to go down on a woman against his will he would have laughed in their face but here he was again faced with the same dilemma. 

"Cheryl, you're a nice young woman, playing the hard nosed bitch isn't worthy of you."

"Stop thinking that you know me; you have no idea who I am. Now I want to see you make that big mouth of yours useful for a change."

He wanted to hit her. How dare she? He had had a name once and when the deal went through he would do again but he knew he must not rock the boat. Salvation was just a day away and this was a small, albeit galling, price to pay. 

Her smile was cruel when she saw the look of acquiescence. He took off his jacket and set it aside before going to his knees between her legs. 

He was determined to keep it as impersonal as possible and he came straight to it. He hooked his arms under her legs and put his mouth to her sex. He was surprised to discover that she was unready and he found that he was irked by this. Whilst it confirmed the spur of the moment nature of her decision he had, nevertheless, expected her to be excited by him 

He licked along her sex, moistening her modest labia but she still seemed unmoved. She was holding the hem of her dress out of the way and he looked up at her. He saw it then. She was not doing this for any sexual thrill she was doing it simply to demean him. He was overcome with a perverse sense of anger and he renewed his assault. He speared his tongue and wriggled it deep inside her where he tasted a first suggestion of arousal. 

Spurred on by this he worked his tongue gently in and out relaxing her reluctant muscles and he could feel her growing heat. As she began to surrender he became more aware of his fierce erection and he had to fight down the urge to get undressed and simply take her where she was. Some devil inside told him that that was what she really wanted, that this had all been a means to an end, but he recognized his ego at work and stuck doggedly to his task.

After a few minutes her whole attitude had changed. She was lubricating freely and she fidgeted in her seat as she tried to urge him towards her clitoris. He knew that he could bring her quickly to a climax but, now that he had the upper hand, he intended to take advantage.

He released her legs and then used his thumbs to hold her apart revealing a red syrupy canyon into which he gently placed his tongue. He licked the tender membranes and slowly stoked her growing frenzy. 

Her whole body was stiff with tension and her breathing was uneven but still he continued to tease. He had her clitoris revealed and he licked around the periphery deliberately avoiding the tiny bud itself until, finally, she leant forward, put her hand to the back of his head, and pulled him in. 

Even now he was tempted to make her wait but her sex had become a wet, suffocating, pit and he wanted it over. He found her clitoris with the tip of his tongue and the dam burst violently. She held him there as her body shook and he was breathing her essence deep into his lungs.

It was over mercifully quickly but as he tried to ease away she held him firm against her sex which was weeping copiously. He used a little more force but she did not relent and she managed to gasp just two words.