Face Up To It

For a moment I thought that he was going to refuse which would have been a great pity; I was looking forward to testing the limits of his tongue.

To give him some encouragement I slipped a finger inside, letting him know how wet I was and just how much more suffocating it would be if I were to smother his face.

He got the message and slowly, reluctantly, he offered his tongue. "Either you put some effort into it or I sit on your face...it's your choice." A hint of anger flashed across his face but he strained his head upwards and I laughed as I felt the first nervous touch of his tongue only for it to be drawn away as if scalded. "Be a man, before you know it you'll be begging for it."

His expression suggested that he would happily see all women cast into a pit and covered over but, for now, he was thinking only of self preservation. He tried again making a first tentative pass over my labia. "There's a good boy. Now let's slow it down."

My choice of words, with their intimation that this was not going to over in a hurry, froze him but then he tried again. I suspected that he was not a dancer. His technique was crude and showed no sense of rhythm but, just then, his surrender was enough of itself.

I made him keep it up for some minutes but he could not hide his distaste as I felt myself leaking ever more copiously. "Now be a gentleman and let me hear you swallow."

In reality he had little choice. He either swallowed or choked and he could be sure that the latter was not going to make me relent.

He was struggling now to keep his neck raised and, as I used my weight to push his head back down onto the stool, there was a renewed look of panic in his eyes as he feared that he was going to be smothered again.

"Just do as you're told. I want to feel your tongue inside me." He was a man in his mid twenties and yet he looked as if he had never heard or conceived of such a thing. He put out his tongue but it was left to me to position myself so that he could comply.

The look of surprise on his face as his tongue slipped easily inside was priceless. He was clearly not prepared for the raw heat and wetness and certainly not for the powerful scent in which he was suddenly enveloped. I could see that he was going to pull away and so I cruelly took hold of his hair. "Don't you dare."

Now that his tongue was in place he managed to keep it rigid but little more. He was going to need, and he was certainly going to get, a lot more tuition but my requirement was more immediate.

Using my fingers to part my labia I began to rub my clitoris and he stared as though he were seeing something that should have remained forever hidden from the eyes of men.

It did not take much. My clitoris was so sensitive that it only needed the lightest touch. I taunted him by taking moisture from his tongue and then gently rubbing in a tight circle.

His tongue slipped even deeper but I suspect that he was too petrified to do anything other than stay still. My finger moved ever faster and I felt the ball of tension starting to expand. My back arched slightly and my arms and legs prickled as hairs stood on end. I tried to hold it back, knowing that I could lift myself to another plane, but I was overcome by greedy impatience. I was keening, but this was no lamentation. I was urging myself on but he must have thought that my inner banshee had been released.

I started to come but fortunately for him I somehow retained a faint semblance of control. Had I given in to myself I would have crushed his face in my ecstasy but, as it was, I leaned back a little with the result that I anointed him with warm gouts of syrupy moisture which ran from his cheeks like tears.

I did not want to give him up. My climax had drained me but I was still there, high on the plateau, and it would not have taken much to build again. I was breathing raggedly and I felt a single bead of sweat trailing its way from between my breasts.

Pam brought me back to reality by touching me gently on the shoulder. It was her turn but we both knew that it would not be the last.

"Stay away from me you bloody harpies! I'll have you arrested for assault!"

"There, there..." Pam stroked his cheek as he tried to turn away from her. "...if you report it who's going to believe you? You'll just make yourself look more of a wimp than you already are."

.He knew she was right and he looked as if he was going to cry in frustration. He tried, once again, to fight his bindings but only managed to move the table a fraction.

Pam collected another cushion from the sofa and, as we watched, she put it under his head. I was not sure what purpose this served until I realised that, with his head so propped, he was compelled to look at us.

"You've had your fun, you've proved you're stronger than me; well big deal, just let me go so that you can go and have a laugh about it with your friends."

Pam said nothing. She looked at me over her shoulder and I understood that she wanted help with her dress. I took hold of the zip and ran it down to the small of her back.

Like a burlesque stripper she eased it off of her shoulders to slowly reveal her unfettered breasts and his mouth dropped. Neither Rachel nor I could compete with Pam in that particular department and he now had an inkling of what it portended.

"Oh dear God...." She shimmied her hips and allowed the dress to fall to the floor. She was wearing tan stockings and suspenders but no panties and he had just been granted his first look at the majesty of her sex.

She slowly walked around him, letting his horrified eyes follow her, before she straddled the stool. "Please! Just tell me what you want!"

She hovered over him, smiling, her sex just inches from his face, and audibly combed her fingertips through the dense undergrowth.

"What have I ever done to you!" He was almost hysterical. Pam removed the extra cushion, lowering his head once more, and he must have known that his fate was sealed.

"Tell me why you want me fired." For a second or two he seemed not to understand but, as realization dawned, he gathered what was left of his wits. "It's nothing personal. Choices have to be made."

Pam said nothing and he blundered on. "The bank needs qualified people, not just the managers, right across the spectrum." He looked at me in desperation and then blurted out. "Graduates! We need graduates."

Pam nudged his head with her thigh to make him look up at her again. "I have a degree Mark. A 2:1 in Economics."

I must confess that I was surprised and I instantly felt guilty that I should be so. Pam rewarded his ignorance by bringing herself a little closer to his face. "Anything else?"

He was thinking desperately. "We also need committed people. The job is more than nine to five."

Pam smiled in such a way that he knew he had walked into another trap. "I wont argue with that Mark. The top four places for hours worked in the London office are all filled by traders. Not surprisingly you top the list and I discount Rob because I know for a fact that he falsifies his time-keeping records. But guess who's at number five? Ahead of all the mangers and directors?"

"You?" He whispered the question not wanting to have the answer confirmed but as she lowered herself further still so that coarse curls brushed against his nose he knew.

"One last chance. Give me a good reason." His eyes were fixed on her sex, as though it were about to eat him alive, and he thought desperately.

"Team players! Some people are good at what they do but they don't fit in. We need to be a cohesive unit, a business family.

"Poor Mark." She teased her sex across his nose before she delivered the coup de grace. "Do you know who the chair of the staff Sports and Social committee has been for the last two and a half years? In that time I must have organized forty different events, including the team building exercises that the directors are so keen on, and I can't remember you attending a single one of them."

"Please! No! It was Rob! He asked me to put you on the list!" He tried to shake his head but Pam slowly closed her thighs so that, inch by inch, he no longer had room to move.

"If only you had said at the beginning...you might have spared yourself..." His despairing scream was cut off as she lowered herself altogether and I almost climaxed on the spot.

He must have thought that he had been in hell beneath Rachel and I but his nightmare was only just beginning. She was heavier than either of us and the cushion would not spare him. His head would be trapped against the stools unyielding seat and he would have no choice but to endure.

His body shook furiously but Pam knelt unmoved. Her soft flesh moulded itself around his face hiding him from view and, when she hummed with pleasure, I knew that the furnace door of her sex had opened.

She adjusted her position slightly and dropped another inch. I imagined that his nose had been devoured, trapped in the reeking pit, and his ever more desperate struggles suggested that his breath was all but spent.

He had reached that moment when he knew that he must inhale but her sex was a wet, clinging mask. He would be disorientated. Trapped in a thick, tangled jungle, which offered nothing but more heat and moisture and, overlaying it all, the inescapable, cloying scent of womanhood.

His struggles weakened and I wondered if she was aware. The smile on her face was beatific as her flesh quivered with pleasure but then he jerked violently. She was beginning to deliquesce, pushing his head under the surface.

She waited long seconds before she eased up and he literally roared for breath before she settled once more shutting out the light and instantly raising the temperature inside his closed casket.

She took her time as if to prove to us that we still had much to learn and it was a lesson that Rachel was clearly eager to assimilate. She sat insouciantly with her legs spread wide as she watched and lazily rubbed herself.

I was sorely tempted to emulate her but I was worried about Mark. He had been under for nearly half an hour and his struggles had long since weakened to a series of half-hearted twitches.

Breathing aside, I wondered if he could be suffering from heat exhaustion. Her pubis would make for an abrasive insulation and her own body was sheened in perspiration.

The transition came slowly and unexpectedly. Like a gymnast she gracefully lifted her knees from the floor and then she spread her legs into the air in a wide vee. As her body shook with the pleasure of orgasm her whole weight was centred on her sex and her growl of delight was counterpointed by a piteous, suffocated , scream.

Chapter 7

My misgivings did not prevent me from taking another turn, nor Rachel after she had recovered from another draining orgasm of her own.

He left us that night a broken man. Pam threatened that, if he did not withdraw his name, every single woman in the office would come to know of his new predilection. He lived with the fear that, on any night, he might be taken again and that, next time, it would not just be the three of us.

I thought that we had completely traumatized him but Pam was not convinced. She knew that it would haunt his dreams for months to come but there would come a moment when he would want to exorcize his demons.

She said that we should not surprised if, later on, he was to approach us even though he knew that we were out of his league. He would want to try it again but he would be reduced to scouting telephone kiosks for "business cards" desperately hoping that the grainy photographs had some basis in reality.

By any reasonable measure my own behaviour had been appalling but I was coming to learn that in the corporate world I had chosen to inhabit pure ability would not, by itself, be enough.

We had simply fought dirty tricks with a few of own; the trouble was that I found it so damn arousing.

The atmosphere at work in the ensuing days was exceedingly strange. Mark took a couple of days leave at short notice and, when he returned, he talked to me no more than was absolutely necessary. He could not look me in the eye but, once or twice, I caught him staring at my body when he thought that I was not aware.

There was also a noticeable tension between him and Rob and I assumed from this that he had kept his promise and withdrawn his support.

I was happy to relay the news to Pam but she was still feeling low. With Dorothy going her P.A. position must have hung in the balance anyway and if her own boss was prepared to sacrifice her it was hardly a vote of confidence.

I felt sure that Pam would pull a rabbit out of the hat, that she would find some way to get to Dorothy, but as days passed things seemed forlorn. It was upsetting to see someone, normally so strong and vibrant, meekly resigning herself to her fate.

I do not when I reached my decision but, having done so, I felt empowered. I checked on the grapevine to see just how high my stock was standing and was pleasantly surprised with the result. I really enjoyed my time at the bank but now I was prepared to sacrifice it to help Pam albeit safe in the knowledge that other openings were there if I needed them.

It was an audacious plan but it would be a measure of just how far I had come. For the next couple of days I tested the limits of the dress code. I bought a business suit with a skirt well above the knee and wore bras and blouses that emphasised my bust.

The looks that I got from both male and female colleagues confirmed that I had achieved the desired result. Even the normally reserved managing director found the time to stop and speak to me, a fact that I filed away for possible future reference. It was on the fourth day that I received the expected call from Dorothy asking if I could spare her a few minutes. Pam, sitting in the outer office, looked surprised to see me but I simply smiled as I knocked and entered.

Dorothy was seated at her desk but rose to take a seat on the twin sofas that she used for meetings. "Would you switch the sign? Thanks." I slid the plate on the door to show "In conference" and closed it behind me. The sofas were set opposite one another in the window bay and I sat across from her.

For the first few minutes she asked me how things were going and told me that she had received glowing reports. Having softened me up a little she cut to the chase but even had I not known what the subject would be I could, by now, have guessed.

Even as she spoke to me her eyes had flitted intermittently from my blouse, with its hint of cleavage, to my skirt which had ridden up as I sat. "Look, the purpose of asking you here was just to give you a gentle reminder about the company dress code."

I gave her an innocent smile, "Have I contravened it?" "I would suggest that you are pushing the limits." "How so?"

She was expecting me to meekly take a slap on the wrists not to question her judgement. "Your blouse is a little...open." I looked down at my breasts as though they were new to me. "You think so? Don't you think a woman should take a pride in what she has?"

She shifted uneasily. "There is a time and a place." "I agree but it does cheer things up. As long as it's not tarty, I can appreciate another woman's breasts as I'm sure you do. " She was a little confused. She had standards to maintain but she clearly did not want to be thought of as a prude. "As I say, a time and a place."

"You think I'm showing a little too much?" "Frankly, yes." "I'm sorry. It's just that...the way you kept looking them..." I left in hanging. She had been looking at my chest as she spoke but now she brought her eyes to mine a little too quickly and tried to change tack.

"There's also the matter of your skirts." "My skirts?" "The hemline." "A little high?"

As I said it I lifted my skirt a fraction more as though I was checking and she followed the movement without thought. It was important to keep her off balance. "I don't think it's any shorter than those that you wear from time to time."

This effrontery from such a junior member of the staff left her temporarily speechless. "I'm with you. If you have nice legs let them be seen."

I made no move to drop my skirt and she stared at my legs in disbelief that such a thing should be happening in the middle of her own office. I waited a couple of heartbeats and then deliberately misconstrued. "I don't mind you looking...its rather flattering really." She visibly blushed and I pressed my advantage. "It's nice when men look but only another woman can appreciate the time and effort it takes."

I lifted my skirt high and displayed my legs as though they were a work of art. I turned them slowly from side to side and her eyes were transfixed. I was wearing stay ups with a pair of virginal white panties. "Cover yourself up"

It came out in a whisper and I made no move to comply. Instead, I smiled at her. "You can come a little closer if you like. "

It was the crucial moment. Everything to that point could have been laughed off, explained, but now I had taken her to the precipice. I had absolutely no idea about her inclinations, other than a brief relationship with Rob, but the lesson that Pam had taught me was that it did not matter.

If it was what I wanted, and if I wanted it strongly enough, then it was simply a matter of imposing my will. Of course, having a natural beauty helped enormously; that was the lure but it was the inner allure and the ability to focus it that counted. It was almost a form of hypnosis, freezing my prey before the strike.

She half rose and leant towards me. On the face of it she was going to pull my skirt back into place but the movement became transmuted. Her hand was shaking as it slowly turned aside and she brushed the back of her fingers across my inner thigh.

My own heart was racing but it was imperative that I stayed in control. "Come here..." She was off balance and it was natural for her to put a knee on the floor to steady herself. "Closer.." She adjusted her position, going down on both knees, and I noted that her eyes had drifted up my legs and were now fixed firmly on my sex.

I looked for myself and found, to my own surprise, that there was a rapidly expanding damp spot on my panties. In the tension of the moment I had become aroused almost without noticing.

I had entered the room without any clear plan knowing only that, if I could make her succumb, events would unfold naturally but now I felt a greedy need to force the pace.

As she remained rooted to the spot I lifted myself and slipped my panties off altogether. The immediate effect was to suffuse the room with my musky scent and, for a fraction of a second, her eyes flicked towards the door but the attraction of my naked sex overwhelmed her.

She was toying with professional suicide but she was being embraced by the same madness that had so affected the others. Her body teetered as some last vestige of sanity tried to pull her back from the brink but the scales were tipping and she was drawing ever nearer.

She paused at the last, making one final effort to resist, but she was so close that I could feel the warmth of her nervous breath against my sex.

The temptation to simply pull her on to me was strong but it was important that it was her decision and so I waited with growing impatience. She was, by now, breathing my very essence and must have almost been able to taste me.

I watched with a half smile as she made an effort to swallow, confirming my surmise, and then she closed her eyes. With a tenderness that I was not anticipating she pursed her lips and placed the gentlest of kisses on my sex. She then withdrew a little to run her tongue over her lips and, finding nothing to dislike, she did it again.

For a minute or two she rained kisses on my sex taking up the dew of my arousal like a beautiful butterfly. It felt wonderful but there was more to come. She began a nervous, but loving, exploration with her tongue.