0 comments/ 7631 views/ 0 favorites Can I Help? By: SweetOblivion 'Can I help?' He asked looking across at her, as she walked through the bar door and waved her hand limply at him. It was a slow gesture matching her weak smile. 'You look at little tired and might like to rest a little in my rooms.' 'That's a very sweet offer, but are you just trying to get me into your lair?' 'No. You just looked worn out.' 'Let's just sit outside. It's a warm evening and I like the shadows - no matter how cosy your rooms.' 'You and your passion for shadows.' 'Is my preference too old school for you?' 'No, not all,' he replied standing up and then, taking the flagon of wine from the table, walking across to her by the door. 'Go and get another glass. I'll find us some nice seats.' 'Now that does sound cosy,' she smiled and walked away from him to the bar itself. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and looked around outside. He quickly spotted an empty table at a distance from the others, which were sparsely populated in any case, for the evening was not quite as warm as she had made out. He deposited his glass and the flagon and drew his jacket about his shoulders, before sitting down and looking up at a clear night sky that was speckled with stars. He was lost in his thoughts by the time she came to join him and jumped when she touched his shoulder. It was a light touch - filled with a distant almost neutral affection and quite ephemeral for she moved past him and sat down across from him, keeping the distance between them. 'What is old school and what is new school?' He asked reaching across to pour her a glass of red wine. She shrugged her shoulders but said nothing as she watched her glass filling with rich, red fluid. 'Are they ideas or doctrines or ways of life?' 'Does it matter?' She replied and then reached across to fill her mouth with the tempting liquid. He watched her enjoying the wine, rejoicing in the way such simple pleasures seemed to fulfil her. 'You're right - god knows - it's all semantics.' 'You sound exasperated.' 'I am totally frustrated.' 'Can I help?' 'Tell me I'm all right as my own man,' he chuckled. 'No, on second thoughts, there's no need: I am him regardless.' 'I like it that you feel you can confide your moods in me,' she smiled back and took another sip of her wine. 'Sometimes my moods irritate me.' 'I know this already,' she smiled and put her glass down, 'but you can ease your anxieties by sitting back and being comfortable and closing off from the outside world.' 'Sometimes,' he conceded grudgingly. 'You are what you make of yourself - here, there, everywhere - and the fact we are here is not so different. This is my idea, my doctrine, my way of life.' 'You make too much sense sometimes.' 'I give good head too,' she smiled conspiratorially. 'Now, there's something to ponder on.' 'See - I can soften your mood and harden your need in a sentence - there is power for you.' He laughed out loud at that, but sobered quickly and looked at her with a lingering stare. Then he reached across and touched his finger tips to hers, watching for her reaction as they nearly made contact, her hand retreating teasingly a moment before the touch would have been cemented. 'Actually, so often it's your ability to make me smile that in turn makes me feel so close,' he said trying not to look disappointed at her apparent standoffishness. 'It's a knock-on effect.' 'Then it is agreeable for you to end your evening with a woman in the shadows on the edge of your vision?' 'Yes, even though you are always just out of reach.' 'But close enough to dance a teasing dance with?' 'I seriously doubt that dance ever ends.' 'Are you allowed serious doubts at this time of night?' 'Oh yes, dear woman, but it's a brighter note to seriously doubt your statement, rather than mine.' 'Well, that is better than being a lost soul, sir. 'An ancient mariner - that's hardly me!' He watched as she lifted her handbag onto her knee and started shuffling through the contents, slapping something down inside it - he could not quite make out if it was really something or if she was just miming: 'What on earth are you doing?' 'I'm putting my albatross away.' 'Foolish woman.' 'I fool and you fall between two worlds, sir, as I see it.' 'Tell me about it,' he smiled, reaching for the flagon and pouring her and then himself another long draft. You, sir, have a mind, yet you seem unable to gain an income from it. Therefore, you spend time with people who frustrate you.' 'I realise that.' 'And when you do, you become even more frustrated.' 'You know me well.' 'Can I do anything to help?' 'Not from over there, across the table from me.' 'It's nice the way the shadows have gathered and we are practically alone out here.' 'Yes, the comfort of the shadows and the comfort of a little distance between us.' 'As you wish,' she smiled obligingly. 'But I don't wish that. I wish you over here, as close to me as could be.' 'Once upon a wish...' 'If wishes were horses then beggars would ride - where is that star when you need it?' 'I could beg to ride.' 'Who could refuse you?' 'A man at the distance of a whole table away.' 'Touché' 'A man who might want a female body to writhe in his lap, across his lap, and under his slap.' 'You can be so astute, dear lady.' 'Even though she may with words rekindle his passion and zest for life, this is not enough.' 'I would pull you from the protection of your shadow, sweetheart.' 'And out of the shadow, there will be no fiery wave of pleasure - just a quiet surrender?' 'Come here.' 'Here?' 'Here.' 'Come to the master? Come for his pleasure?' She murmured and stood up to walk around the table, before crouching down on the gravel at his side. 'Both,' he smiled, petting her hair. 'There is an unrelenting hardness in your gaze.' 'Indeed there is.' 'Our two worlds risk colliding and you are at the juncture,' she continued as he reached down to cup her breast through her blouse. 'Yes: a rock and a hard place - if you are my rock... 'Ooh!' She exclaimed, twisting her body to ease the grip of his powerful hand. 'I think I have found the hard place.' 'Indeed.' 'Did you know that if you unfasten my skirt and ease it over the swell of my hips, it will drop neatly around my ankles?' 'So it does,' he obliged and released the garment, almost chuckling to find that the top edge of her panties was cut low on the swell of her belly and better still, they were almost transparent. 'Goodness,' she giggled. 'Whatever happened to my modesty?' 'You may as well not be wearing any.' 'Will my faint hope that you may leave me with at least that shred of modesty vanish when you hook your thumbs under the elastic?' He tugged the sides and pulled them down over her bottom, giving it a friendly pat as he did so. 'Ah yes - you do like the bottom, don't you?' 'I like all of you, every inch,' he chuckled, pushing his hand between her legs. 'You are welcome tonight sir,' she sighed as he smoothed his other hand over the rise of her cheeks. 'Does the "master" need some...release?' 'Yes, I do believe so.' She knelt down slowly between his spread legs and reached up with a soft hand to unbutton the buckle on his belt. That self same hand pressed down against the rising hardness beneath. Conscious of him watching her moves with growing excitement, she applied first her palm and then the lips, thinking how she was planting a kiss on sir's arousal. 'My doctrine,' she whispered, reaching up with her mouth half open to run her tongue across her lips, 'is to concentrate on giving all the pleasure, when and where the pleasure is needed, 'Such perfection,' he sighed admiring the loose strands of dark hair, such a consolation as she hid her face from him while she dipped down to takes his zip between her teeth. She tugged the zip down and open quickly - all the way - the tips of her breast brushing sir's spread thighs as she leant back and pulled that English reserve all the way down. Then she looked up at him quizzically her eyes pleading for permission. He lifted his hips towards her but said nothing. 'May I suck your nice English cock into my soft, warm American mouth?' 'I want all of you. Take it.' 'May I lift your cock with my fingers and lower my head to it, pursing my moist lips, reading to receive your joy?' 'Yes,' he practically hissed, stroking her hair. 'Suck me.' He leant back and enjoyed the feathery touch of her thumbs endlessly stroking the length of his firm cock, from base to tip and from tip to base. He looked down to see her lowering her head to his command and could not resist reaching out to tease her nipples through her blouse. 'I will take your fine cock to my lips,' she said quietly. Shall I gently chide you with the sharp edges on my teeth?' 'Just do it, girl,' he groaned. She bent to her task, loving the feeling of his presence, strength and command. She was turned on by the fact that for him at that moment her mouth was nothing more than an instrument of pleasure to satisfy his need to be sucked and sucked and sucked deftly in. He was breathing more heavily by this time, almost trembling as he felt her hands stimulating that part of his shaft that would not fit in the mouth. He tightened his hold on her breasts, matching the stroking of the fingers to the movements of the head that tugged and stretched the skin over the hard core of that fat prick. He closed his eyes to imagine her mouth massaging his erect phallus - lips hot and wet - a wet ring around the engorged shaft that fucked her mouth. 'Oh yes,' he groaned as she massaged and caressed, replacing her mouth with equally sensational finger movements and the soft voice whispering gentle obscenities at him in the night. 'Oh yes," she responded, obscenity sliding onto her lips as naturally as he seemed to slide against her. "Fuck my fingers - they were made for you to fuck. They were made for you to take your pleasure in. These palms were built for you to jet your come into.' His hands continued to rove over her breasts, pulling and tugging the flesh in his need to find something malleable to help him focus and concentrate on exploding in the cool night air. 'Is it so excitingly different from a vaginal embrace? Was my mouth so moist and capacious compared to the tight dry anal aperture that still awaits your pleasure? I know you want it, sir. I know you need it - the velvet pressing of the sensitivity of your need. 'Oh god, yes' 'I can imagine that lusty ache giving way to the ecstasy of release.' 'So close!' 'Think of my mouth, sir, my cunt, my tight arsehole - all here for you to use - so tight, so reluctant and so yours...think of the sheer pinkness and the welcoming brown...' she continued as she felt him on the edge, masturbating him until he spurted hard into her face. She felt that she was absorbing his need as he came over her face and made to rub it into her hair. 'Make me yours...tonight is your night.' 'Mmmmmm,' he sighed happily, gripping her hair. 'My - what a lot of cum,'she giggled before wiping her face and fingers on a handkerchief that she had fastidiously retrieved from the sleeve of her blouse. 'What a lovely lot of woman!' 'I almost thought I was going to drown.' 'You are the perfect woman in so many ways.' 'No sir. I am just a woman who watches and waits for the time to be right. Treat me right and I will treat you right.' 'May I always treat you as you deserve and need' 'May you always have a receptive mouth to ease your anxieties' 'May it be yours,' he smiled. 'You have quite recovered your spirits sir. I'm so glad.' 'You are very special to me.' 'Hush. You are quite able to make many delicious conquests,' she scolded him lightly and pressed the used kerchief into her handbag. 'And remember...' 'Remember what?' He asked in a dazed voice, watching her stand and pulling her skirt back up in a single gesture. 'Remember that when I am tempted from the shadows, I give rather good head,' she smiled, waving her hand in a slow gesture of farewell, before picking up her discarded panties and walking away across the gravel. 'I shall," he promised back, raising his voice slightly to ensure she heard him clearly. Having walked a few yards from him, she turned her head and blew a kiss at him, calling out across the night: 'And remember that, if you ask nicely, I can help.' Can I Help, Daddy? Like most young fathers I had hoped for my first to be a son. Someone to take to the ball games, and out on the boat to fish, and to teach what little I knew about cars. Things like that, but it didn't happen. That's not to say that I was disappointed with what I got. No, the instant she came, not so gracefully, into this world I was in love with my Stephani. I learned to take care of her wants and needs right from the start, and delighted in them. I was a hands-on Dad, learning to feed her, change her, bathe her, and all those things that had to be done with care and without fail. I also learned what made her happy and content, and what made her angry or sad. I never stopped learning, even to this day. Don't get the idea that she grew up to be a spoiled brat, because she didn't. She learned along the way, too. She learned that, even though she had Dad wrapped around her little finger, on those rare occasions when he said "No" that was it and there would be no changing his mind. So, early on, she started paying attention to the kind of things I'd say "Yes" to and concentrated her efforts on the things that mattered most to her. By the time she was a teenager she didn't often have to hear "No" and she still managed to get most of what she wanted. I got what I wanted, too, along the way. We went fishing together, and to ball games, and I've made sure that she knows her way around under the hood of her car. If you work in a garage and she comes in for repairs, don't try to sell her something she doesn't need. She'll call you on it and take her car somewhere else. She got this way by hanging with me all the time whenever I was home. Whatever I was doing she'd watch a while and say, "Can I help, Daddy?" If I was going somewhere, other than to work, she'd be saying, "I want to come, too, Daddy." She became my little shadow, my helper, and my partner more and more as she grew up. Stephani spent time with Mom, too, and learned all those things that make a woman wonderful. She learned what to do with hair and makeup, how to cook and clean and sew, what clothes looked good on her and how to care for them. But when Dad got home it was into the t-shirt and jeans, so she could hang with me. Well, Mom left. Back then, I couldn't even really tell you why she left. I thought I was a good husband; I was trying to be anyway. None of what she said made any real sense to me, but no matter what I said or did, she wouldn't come back home and so, we divorced. In today's world, the only reason you have to give is 'Irreconcilable Differences', so I never did find out, from her, the real reasons. Stephani chose to stay with me and, being a senior in high school at the time, it was pretty much her choice to make. Her graduation was the last time I saw Julie (Mom) and that was well over a year ago. She was on the arm of a tall, good-looking guy she introduced as Jim. Maybe Jim was the reason she left, I thought. I didn't know and, in time, I didn't care; what's done is done. At least, I didn't know then, but I do now. I've still got my baby. She decided to stay home and go to the local college. That's fine. It has a good name and a high standard, so it's not like she gave up her best choices in order to stay here. And she's still my partner. We still go places and do things together. I still hear her say, "Can I help, Daddy? I want to come too, Daddy." We have a lot of fun. The first year or so after Julie left I didn't want another woman in my life. Much of that time was taken up with Stephani's school functions anyway. Junior and Senior year is a busy time and full of surprises. I still remember the night of Stephani's senior prom. I was standing in the living room, talking with a nervous young man and wondering what there was about him that had attracted 'My Little Girl' to him. I saw his eyes get big and his mouth dropped open. I turned around and there stood the most gorgeous woman I'd ever seen. Of course it was my Stephani. I'd always known that she was pretty, but I had only seen her with a daddy's eyes. The vision that stood before me forced me to see her with a man's eyes. Her honey-blonde hair was swept up, exposing her neck and bare shoulders. Her red, strapless gown had something about it that pushed her up in the front and made her breasts seem much fuller than I had thought them to be. It was tight on her torso, then it flared out at her hips and stopped just far enough off the ground to show that she was wearing black, strappy shoes with more than a three inch heel. The red really looked good against her pale skin, and the shoes and hair style made her look very tall. Really she's five foot six and up to that time I would have said skinny, but slender is the word that came to mind when I saw her like that. She was wearing makeup, but it was subtle. I've always said that when it's done right you can't tell it's there. She didn't quite make that mark, but she came damned close. Something she had done made her brown eyes shine and the smile she wore for us was dazzling. I was almost mesmerized by my own daughter and I jokingly said that maybe I should send this kid away empty-handed so I could take her out myself. She blushed at that and hugged me, then we said all the usual stuff and I took pictures of them before they left. That was the night that I really saw that my little girl had become a woman. Over the next few months there were other times when this thought cut through everything else. For one thing my numbness began to wear off. I was ready for a woman again and I started going out now and then, hoping to meet someone. I dated a few different women, but nothing ever came of it. For one thing I was still a little bit cynical over what had happened with Julie. I kept seeing hidden agendas and shallowness. It's quite likely that much of this was only my imagination, but it was there. Then too, these women all seemed too big, too old, too serious, or too selfish. There was always something that detracted from them and I finally figured that one out. None of them were Stephani. In the months that followed my awakening I had noticed more and more just how beautiful she was and how thrilling it was to have her nearby or just to hear her speak to me. A woman's voice does something to men; it fills an empty spot within us. And Stephani's voice does more; it has this, almost musical, quality to it that will just make a man melt. Given these things and the closeness we had always had it was no wonder that I found my thoughts often turned towards her. It was this, more than anything, that had made me go out to look for a woman, and it was also this that made every woman fall short. Of all the women in the world, she was the only one who was forbidden to me. I had no living relatives, but for her. And yet, she was the only one I truly wanted. Still, I fought against it and tried to find someone. In the meantime, the body still has needs. I would take care of those needs when I had to and, as time went on, I was having to with more and more frequency. At first, I would fantasize about some woman I had seen during the day, my imagination embellishing her and filling in the blank spots; or I would relive an experience I'd had in the past. Eventually though, these fantasies were slowly replaced with visions of Stephani. Stephani in her red gown. Stephani getting out of her red gown. Stephani lying naked on her red gown with me lying on top of her and between her widespread legs. Stephani in all manner of dress and undress, seducing me or allowing me to seduce her. At first I fought against such things, but the thoughts kept coming back and soon enough I gave up fighting and she was my only fantasy. Her mere presence was enough to get me horny and many times I had trouble trying to hide an erection from her. In my mind I had her in every way a man can have a woman and in more than a few ways that I'm sure would be impossible in real life. I got to the point where I would speak to her while I stroked my throbbing cock, my mind filling in her responses to me. I was always careful to only do this when she wasn't around; in my bedroom with the door locked and the TV on to mask the sound of what I was doing. But, of course, you know what eventually happened. One night I was alone, taking care of that urge. Stephani was out on a date. She had been at my side most of the day, still my shadow, and I was painfully aware of her nearness, her scent, the swell of her breasts under her t-shirt. She had gotten all dolled-up for her date and she looked so good when she left that, only minutes after she stepped out the door, I was in my bedroom, naked and sprawled across my bed with my stiff cock in my hand. Knowing that I was alone I wasn't really very careful and I was soon lost in my fantasy world, stroking my hard shaft and talking to Stephani. The bedroom door was only open a crack, but it was open. "That's good, Stephani, squeeze my cock hard while you move your hand up and down," I said. "Like this, Daddy?," I heard her say in my mind. "Yes, like that. Lick my nipple while you do that," I said. "Will you lick mine for me, Daddy? I like it, too," I heard her say to me. "Of course I will. Let's get this blouse off of you." I replied. "And my bra. Or should I just pull the cups down like last time?" she queried. "No, let's take it off. Now, let Daddy slide these tiny little panties off of you," I murmurred into her ear. "Ooh, the air feels so cold on my hot little pussy. Will you rub it and make it tingle?" Stephani asked. "Yes, I will. How does that feel?" as I (mentally) began to rub her sweet little pussy with my fingertips. "That feels good," she cooed. "Does Daddy's cock feel good, too?" I asked, knowing the answer, since I was supplying it myself. "Yes, it does, Daddy," she replied. "Do you like Daddy's cock?" I asked. "Oh, yes. It's so hard and hot in my hand," she said as she (I) stroked its length. "Do you want Daddy to fill your sweet little pussy with his big, fat cock?" I asked my baby girl. It went on in that way for some time. I know it sounds rather juvenile, but of such stuff are men's fantasies made. I was about to cum, my cock was already pulsing in my hand. I knew that, if I had looked down at it, it would have been an angry, purple-red with all the veins standing out, but I had my eyes closed while I furiously pounded my fist up and down. Somehow, through this lustful haze, I heard a noise. My eyes flew open and I looked toward the door and there, peeking through the crack in the door, stood Stephani. With so little of her exposed I couldn't see what expression was on her face, and as soon as I looked her way she slid away and disappeared from my view. Of course, all thoughts of finishing what I had started left immediately and I jumped up and pulled my pants on. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I knew I had to say something to her. By the time I had covered myself and come out of the bedroom though, she was gone. I later learned that she had forgotten her purse and had come back for it. I didn't know how long she had been standing there at my door; probably not long, but surely long enough to figure out that I had been talking to her in my fantasy. I was horrified. I had this image playing in my head of her walking out of my house and out of my life. I anxiously waited for her to return. Would she return? What would I say to her if she did? What could I say? Certainly nothing to excuse what she had seen and heard; maybe nothing that she would want to hear. Maybe I wouldn't even get the chance to say anything at all. She had friends she might turn to for a place to stay while she figured out what to do. She might come in while I was at work to take her things and just go, like her mother did. As time stretched into hours I poured myself a drink, then another, and another after that. I don't know what time it was that the worry and the booze finally took their toll and put me to sleep. I woke up sore from sleeping in a chair that wasn't really built for comfort to see that it was full daylight outside. The clock on the mantle showed that it was almost noon. The house was silent except for the hum of the air-conditioning. Taking a peek outside, I saw that Stephani's car wasn't in the driveway, so she had been home and left again sometime while I was asleep. With the shadow of dread hanging over me I went to check her room, more than half-expecting to find it an empty space; her walls and shelves bare, her closet and dresser cleaned out. But it was neat and orderly, as always, and everything seemed to be there. Her bed was made, but had it been slept in? I didn't know; there was no way of knowing since I had slept so late. It was Saturday, so I hadn't missed any work, but that meant that the whole weekend was ahead of me and I didn't know what it would hold. I began to worry again, thinking the worst. Stephani was out apartment hunting right now and would do her best to avoid me until she found one, then she would be gone. Stephani was crying on the shoulder of some dear friend or boyfriend who would offer her a place to stay and I would never see her again. In my mind, my offense was elevated to the level of a crime and I wondered if the next person through my door would be a policeman. I tortured myself all day while I waited and Stephani didn't return till sometime after I fell asleep again. Sleep has a wonderful healing effect on the mind and body. It takes us away from our troubles and relieves us of our burdens, it heals our aches and pains and heartaches. I dreamed, and in the dream I saw sunshine and a grassy place beside a stream where a beautiful woman waited for me. I was naked and soon, so was she, and we delighted in each other. I felt my cock grow hard and saw the flush of excitement spread across her breast. I explored her body and felt her soft fingertips caressing me, stoking the fires within me. I felt that warm, wet woman-place envelope me as in entered her and began to thrust against her. I heard her voice... I heard a voice... I heard Stephani's voice! And it wasn't a dream. "Can I help, Daddy?" Fighting my way up through the mists of sleep I realized that Stephani was beside me, in my bed, and naked. Her hand was around my cock, with my own, and she was pressing her body up to mine. She was propped up on one arm and leaning over me, looking down at me. I started to say something, but she shushed me and began working her hand up and down on my shaft. She kept a firm grip on it, not like some women who are afraid that they're going to hurt a man if they squeeze too hard. A thrill went through me and I had the feeling that my cock was a piece of velvet-covered steel. After only a couple of minutes Stephani began to rise and I thought she was going to get out of bed and go to her own. Instead, she straddled me and it was obvious what she was about to do. I said, "Are you sure, baby?" She responded by placing my cockhead at that wonderful spot and easing herself down onto me, saying, "Yes. I'm sure." She rode me slowly and deliberately; bottoming out every time she let her cunt slide down my shaft and rising again until the crown just slipped from between her hot, wet lips. Her hands were on my chest and her fingers dug into my flesh every time she came down on me. Her breasts swayed with her movements and her nipples were hard, and just out of reach of my mouth. The moonlight coming in through the window played against her flesh, but her face was in darkness. I touched her in the half-light and felt her skin burn my fingertips, then I heard her speak again. "Do you know why Mom left?" I couldn't imagine why she had let her mother intrude on this moment. I gave no answer. "Because I told her to, that's why. She was a whore. I caught her so many times with other men while I was growing up. She always threatened me and kept me from telling what I knew. But I knew, and I finally couldn't take it anymore. I hid a tape recorder under the bed, this bed, and after a few tries I got a good one of her with one of her men. I made a copy and played it for her while I told her to get out. She was gone the next day." All this time she was still riding up and down, grinding into me every time we came together. Sweat dripped off of her and splattered on my chest before it mingled with my own. I began to push up with my hips to meet her downward thrusts and the soft slap, slap of our bodies coming together increased in volume to match our tempo as our fever increased. She continued with, "Daddy, I didn't push her out so I could have you; I did it because she was bad for you. It caught me off-guard to hear you speaking of me while you jerked yourself off and I just ran away." I reached up and wrapped my hungry hands around her jiggling breasts, squeezing and pawing at them. "But all that night and all of today I thought about you." I strained until I captured one excited nipple with my lips. "I came to realize that I do want you." I sucked her nipple hard and caressed it with my tongue. "Oh God!... That's why I never keep a boyfriend; they're not you." I reached down her back to firmly grip her ass and played with her asshole. "The guys I date never come up to the standards I set for them. No one can; only you. Oh!" I pushed just the tip of one finger into her ass and made just very slight thrusting motions with it; all the while grinding my pelvis against hers. "I love you. Oh! Not only that, but I'm in love with you. Please love me too." What was I to say? What could I say? I released her breast and, putting my arm around her back, I pulled her down to me and thrust into her hard and said, "Of course I love you; I always have." And as I said these words I felt my cock begin to throb and pulse, and I felt my cum pumping into her. Then I heard her say, "Fuck me hard. I want to cum too, Daddy," so I did. Can I Help You? She had been on his mind all day, ever since last night. Hell, ever since he could remember actually! There were too many people milling around so he had to make a quick stage exit to the bathroom for this one. The throbbing and dripping were unbearable and he felt like he had just stepped out of a pool, he was that wet. He walked quickly and quietly to the men's room, head down so as not to call attention to himself. He finally makes it and quickly walks into the stall and locks the door. Sheer relief to be able to unzip his pants. He slides his hand in his drenched sticky boxers and frees himself. Hard, throbbing and dripping by the second it looks like the slightest touch will make it explode. He hears the door close and thinks he has to be quick and quiet so that the guy who just came in doesn't get suspicious. He hears heels clicking on the floor, "great he thinks it's probably one of the execs!" So he just stands there dripping and not moving. Sweat breaks out on his forehead, he has to have her, he has to take care of this! He can't work another second like this. As he's standing there contemplating what to do, he smells a mixture of jasmine, black pearl rose, hibiscus, Sicilian bergamot, honeysuckle, heliotrope, sandalwood and musk. It is the most feminine smell he has ever smelled before but so soft, clean and sensual. He feels something on his back and as he is about to turn around, he hears "face forward, don't turn around" He does as told and she takes her right hand and places it on his dick. The initial touch sends waves through his body and he drips down her arm. "Can I help you with this?" He shakes his head yes, his eyes are closed and he can't even speak right now. She pours baby oil in her hands and gets started. With her right hand, she pulls his shaft's skin toward the base and wraps her fingers around the base to act as a cock ring. Using her left hand, she rhythmically picks various points along the shaft and squeezes opposite sides of the shaft at the points, releasing pressure immediately. He lurches forward violently and gasps loud, she giggles and tells him to stifle himself. He nods his head once and tries to regain his composure. She asks if he's ready for more? He whispers yes, yes, yes. Next she does a combo move on him. She pulls the skin towards the base with her right hand. With her left hand, she corkscrews him with her thumb and index finger. His knees buckle and she tells him to hold on a little longer. To settle him down a bit she takes her fingers and lightly grasps the top of his dick. She then strokes him from the top slowly, all the way down. When her fingers touch his hair she starts over with the opposite hand. "oh fuck honey, it's building!" he whispers. She giggles once more and kisses the side of his face and tells him he can cum after this. For the final move she places her right hand on his dick at the top. Once again she strokes him from top to bottom, letting his dick "penetrate" into her fist on each stroke. Before his head pops out, she does the same with the other hand for the next penetration. She keeps alternating hands and it feels like he's fucking a bottomless pussy. She keeps it up and she hears a low moan building and he's shaking his head that he is there. She goes faster and faster now and he releases and sprays the wall, the toilet, the floor and her hands with burst after burst of hot milky cum. She reaches down and plays with his spot as he continues to cum. She releases her pressure and licks her hands and kisses him again. She whispers in his ear to enjoy the rest of his day and that he really needs to start locking his doors. He knows he locked the stall. She opens the door, goes to sink washes her hands and leaves. As he stands there completely spent, her perfume lingers, his dick and swollen and throbbing still and he is so satisfied that he could curl up and sleep. He cleans up his mess, pulls everything back up, washes his hands and leaves. As he gets back to his desk the smell is there and on his monitor is a note that says thanks for letting me help you with that and a big kiss print. Can I help you, Sir? 'Can I help you Sir?' She gives him exactly what he wants. I walk in through the open door. She is seated on a stool behind the counter, reading, dark hair falling forward masking her face. Her hand holds her cheek and the tip of her little finger rests between her lush lips. She looks up and reads something in my face for even though there is no-one else present she makes no sign of recognition. She decides to play it straight - the helpful travel agent. She gets off her stool and stands behind the counter. My cock is already erect in anticipation. I put my hand in my trouser pocket and masturbate. For a long minute she watches the masturbatory movement in the front of my trousers as I stroke the full length of my cock through the thin material of the pocket lining. She licks her lips, whether to wind up my lust or as an involuntary action she cannot control I know not. Then she looks up. Her eyes are hooded, deep, lustful. She puts one leg behind the other, slanting her hips and pushing out a buttock. She places her hands on the counter in front of her, rests her weight on spread fingers and says deadpan: 'Can I help you sir?' I move forward and, still masturbating, rest the top of my thighs against the counter, with my engorged but trousered cock on the flat top. I clear my throat. 'I'm interested in the brochures on the bottom shelf, but IÕm not sure which one I need.' My voice is strange. Loud enough - but lifeless. Automatic. Not me. She looks behind her, considers the piles of leaflets, brochures and booklets. For a second she is slightly non-plussed. Then she realises the possibilities of my request and knows what I want her to do. She walks the two or three paces to the shelves behind her, high heels clicking quietly on the wooden floor, then she kneels down and balances on her haunches. The action pulls the hem of her dark blue skirt over her knees. She reaches out to touch one of the piles of travel brochures and looks up at me, still playing it straight. 'This one sir?' She cannot be seen now by anyone outside. There is no-one about and the street is quiet. The atmosphere in the travel agent's is still and heavy. I look at her rounded knees. 'Pull your skirt up.' She stands briefly, pulls her skirt up and squats back down. The hem of her skin is high across the broad thighs above her bent knees. 'Higher.' She does a quick bounce and slides the skirt even higher. It is now back over the tautly stretched black nylon of her stocking tops. She is looking up at me, waiting, dark hair falling in waves round her face. Red lips parted. Her compliance makes me feel horny. I want to fuck her mouth. Pull her head onto my cock and force it deep into her mouth. 'I want to fuck your mouth,' I tell her. She shudders. Looks at me with those heavy lidded, lustful eyes. Her mouth opens. Slowly she licks round her lips with her extended tongue. It is my turn to shudder. I want to vault the counter, stand over her, bare my cock and push it into her mouth. 'Open your thighs.' She drops her right knee to the floor, swivels her body slightly and raises her left knee. The new position opens up the top of her thighs to my gaze. I can see all the way up her right thigh, past the creamy white of her upper thigh to her knickers. I take my hand from my pocket and wrapping my fingers round my cock moving the thin cotton over it to continue the heavy slow masturbation. 'That's perfect,' I tell her. Our little tableau - me concentrating on the view between her parted thighs and her watching the movement of my hands on the front of my trousers - is frozen in still life, The only thing disturbing the silence, the slight noise of my hand moving slowly but purposefully over my cock. 'I want to lick your cunt,' I tell her and she shivers slightly and clears her throat but says nothing. Then the spell is suddenly broken. Footsteps sound outside. The door is pushed open. A woman enters the shop and comes to the counter. Annette is already walking towards me with a leaflet in her hand. 'I think you'll find everything in here sir.' I thank her politely and she turns to the woman. 'Can I help you madam?' I go over to a side counter and write her a note, 'You make me feel so fucking horny. I want to lick my way up the insides of your thighs, spread your legs wide open and use my mouth and my tongue on your beautiful cunt. When you clock off for lunch at one o'clock I will be waiting at Queen Street car park for you. Take your knickers off first - it will make it easier for my tongue to find your clit so that I can start licking you ...' I fold the note and take it over to where she is talking to the woman. 'That's the address. Please contact me if anything suitable comes up.' 'Of course sir, I hope that was of some help with what you wanted. We'll be in touch.' And she gives me a great big efficient 'Glad to help you, sir. Have a nice day' smile. I leave the shop, closing the door quietly behind me I make my way to the nearby car park. At two minutes past one she appears through the entrance to the car park. She sees my car and walks towards it. I watch her long legs and high heels edging the small puddles. Her full thighs stretch the material of her tight office skirt. When she gets close I lean over and open the back door. She climbs in and sits diagonally behind me. I face forward and ignore her. The silence in the car builds. I reach up and adjust my mirror, twisting it so that I can see her face. Our eyes meet. She looks very fuckable. A female ready for sex. She has been thinking about what will happen and her thoughts have left her eyes dull, lustful, ready. 'You look fucking gorgeous,' I tell her. Her eyes smile. 'Thank you,' she says quietly. 'Did you take off your knickers?' 'Yes I did,' she breathes. 'Look out of the window.' She turns her head to the side and looks out. 'Pull your skirt up.' I twist the mirror again to watch her legs. She raises her bottom off the seat and uses both hands to pull her skirt up her thighs. 'Put your right foot on the transmission tunnel and then open your thighs. I want to see your cunt. Keep looking out of the window.' She lifts her right leg and rests the heel of her shoe on the tunnel. Her skirt pulls even further back as she stretches her thighs wide for me. I look at the dark mass of tangled hair where her white thighs join. She is excited. The inner lips of her cunt are clearly visible. They are slowly parting, stirring gently in the thicket of dark curly hairs like a small wakening animal. I unzip my trousers and take out my cock. The noise of the zip sounds loud in the quiet car. I am massively erect 'Keep looking out of the window. Touch yourself. I want to watch you playing with your cunt. Masturbate for me.' She moves down on the seat, opening her thighs wider. I watch in the mirror as her right hand appears sliding down through her cunt hairs. Slowly she uses her middle three fingers to stroke the top of her cunt lips over the site of her clit. A small slow circular motion. Her thighs start to flex and move as her fingers build her excitement. The mirror is too narrow for me to see everything. I half turn in my seat to watch her. Her lips are parted, her eyes glazed and half closed. Her hands move over her cunt and her middle finger dips into her wetness and I can no longer see her finger tip. I stroke my cock quickly while I watch her, my fist wrapped round the shaft and moving furiously up and down. I am very excited. I look at her face. She is breathing heavily and her lips are fuller now and drawn back slightly over her teeth. Her mouth is slightly open and her eyes are closed in concentration as her hand moves over her cunt. Her breathing becomes shallow and fast. There is a sound in her throat. Her thighs flex wider and then squeeze together. Her buttocks clench as she pushes her body forward in rhythm with her spreading thighs. She gasps. She is coming. She groans quietly. Her mouth is wide open. Then she comes down from her high, breathes out deeply. Her eyes are wide, her nostrils flared, her lips full and heavy. She looks totally animal. Satisfied. Well fucked, though I have not said a finger on her. She looks beautiful, fucking beautiful. I want to leap onto her and push my cock deep into her, deep into her wet cunt. 'Good?' I ask. She looks at me heavy lidded, wanton, 'Mmmmmmmmm ...' 'Come here in the front.' She opens her door, stumbles drunkenly out and climbs in beside me. Right now she would do anything I told her. I lean over and cover her mouth with mine. My tongue pushes hard into her wide-opened slack soft-lipped mouth. She makes noises in her throat again. I break away from her. I reach for the buttons on her blouse tearing them undone. I lift her brassiere up so that her heavy, full breasts swing free. I reach for her nipple, look her in the eye and tweak hard on it. She gasps. Her eyes are dull, her eyelids heavy with lust. I scramble her skirt back, pushing my hand between her thighs to force them open. Her cunt is all mush. I push two fingers deep inside her. She is all soft slippery velvet down there. There isnÕt room to fuck her in the car. My cock is twitching with excitement. My hands are quivering with lust. I lean back in my seat and hold my cock. 'Suck me off.' She goes straight for it. Holds the base of my cock in her right hand. Her mouth opens as her head descends. My stretched and burning skin is bathed in the warmth and wetness of her mouth. I stroke the back of her head as she moves her mouth on me sliding her tongue over my cock, making wet sucking noises. I groan. Drop my hand to imprison her neck and push my cock up into the centre of her skull and erupt into her waiting mouth, spurt after spurt of scalding sperm. She swallows it greedily. I rest my head against the coolness of the window and look down at her through dead, half-closed eyes. I am utterly drained. Her head raises from my lap and my thick soft cock slips from her mouth. It is drenched with a mixture of saliva and come. She looks up at me, the light of mischief back in her eyes. Will there be anything else, Sir?' ***** This was a true incident. Sometimes a man gets greedy in his lust and just wants his own pleasure. This was one such occasion. 'Annette' told me afterwards she was turned so turned on by our little playlet that she closed the door in her office three times during the course of the afternoon to masturbate. Is this a common reaction from a woman to what seems on the face of it 'a zipless fuck'? I would like to hear from any woman who has enjoyed a similar lustful incident where she has serviced a man - and enjoyed it.