Manipulation Ch. 01

Introduction

Manipulation is a story in five parts. Each episode is written and will be posted at weekly intervals following a final editing. Please vote and send feedback on the story line, its plausibility, and eroticism. Many thanks.,

MONDAY

Today is the day. I have spent such a long time planning and organising, now, today, finally it starts. I am so excited I can hardly keep still, I wonder if he will call me straight away. I bet he calls his wife first, as much as I love him, he is such a baby. Blindly, he puts his trust in her, and the strength of their relationship.

I hadn't seen her since the summer of 1988, actually that is not quite true, me met briefly last year, at the exhibition of a mutual friend. At the gallery, she had looked stunning, it was hard to believe that 14 years had drifted past, a little heavier maybe but still a lithe and attractive figure with bumps in all of the right places.

She had arrived with her husband, Federico, he was the boss of the company that she went to work for after we completed our business and returned to live in England. My wife always said that she married him on the rebound from me. It was quite dark in the gallery, the work on exhibition a video installation, it was difficult to read facial expressions in the half-light, but there was no mistaking her mischievous smile and the gleam in her eyes. I felt her look and knew that she, like me, was remembering. Her voice had retained the mid-Atlantic accent she acquired when she learnt English with very slight almost unnoticed lisp on certain words. We exchanged pleasantries, talked about our families, her sister, and nephew and the additions since we last met. It was the usual stuff that once upon a time friends or colleagues say when they really have lost contact with each other's lives. Her husband said not a single word other than hello and goodbye.

There was a thing about Anna; a thing that so nearly got me into a great deal of trouble when we worked together. Believe me, this not a fetish of mine, I don't think I really have any except for the usual male desires. Anna had an awesome smell, it was her smell, her body perfume, not a scent or cosmetic application, but her very own true womanly smell, musk and sandalwood with a hint of lemon, it exuded from every pore of her body. You could have put me blindfolded into a darkened room and if she had walked in, I would have known her immediately.

Anna was my Personal Assistant for the four years that I ran an office in downtown area of the city. She is Columbian by birth and shares the full beauty that has kept Columbian women high in the league of world beauties. She arrived in Portugal via Spain, fluent in Portuguese, Spanish, and English. At eighteen years old just what I needed - as a Personal Assistant; Anna was desperate for a job. My wife and I both interviewed her. My wife worked part time for the business, just helping with translations, most of which she did from home; she took immediately to Anna. I was surprised that my wife let me employ her, a gloriously attractive young girl, vivacious with twinkling eyes that spoke of mischief even then. She had a great personality, fitted perfectly with the rest of the team and on top of that, she was stunningly beautiful. Curvaceously figured with a bust that had the power to mesmerise and a cute round bottom. My wife insisted that it was better she was young and relatively inexperienced, that way we could train her to do the work we wanted, she wouldn't be ground down by years of conventional office experience. I was happy to concede; after all, I would be the one working with her most days.

My wife never said anything to me about Anna's captivating potential, I had never strayed in our marriage and owed my wife too much to even consider the risks. It was left unsaid just precisely what would happen to me if I succumbed to temptation.

We worked on the fifth and top most floor of an old building with no lift with fabulous westerly views across the city and the harbour. My habit was to arrive early for work. Each morning I would hear Anna climbing the stairs and the tingles would start across my body. When she entered the room, her smell invaded every corner assaulting my senses. Most of the time she glowed with sheen of perspiration, in the summer, her blouse clung to her body accentuating her breasts. If she wore a tee shirt, it stuck to her midriff, the back dark stained with perspiration. A few times, she arrived at work bra less. There was no mistaking just what was under her tee shirt, her tendency to perspire made it an occasion rather than the norm. There was one time, a memorable day when I so nearly gave in to the temptation of her opulent body, my wife had to lend her a jacket to wear home. It had been a particularly warm and humid afternoon and by the end of the day, Anna would have risked arrest for causing a disturbance if she had travelled home in the damp and virtually transparent top she was wearing. Of course, my wife had never known what really happened and how her entering the room had, in all probability, saved Anna's virginity.

Her hair was a rich dark brown and fell in waves around her face and shoulders. It shone with the jest of youth. She washed her hair every day, sometimes arriving at work with her hair still damp from towelling. I don't know what shampoo she used, her hair always smelt of the spring and the habit she had off tossing her head guaranteed that I received my full measure of its perfume. In a way, its effect was to exaggerate her very own special body perfume. When she came into my room, she always stood close to me and had a habit of bending over the end of the desk or over my shoulder whilst we discussed some paperwork. It was on these occasions that I received the full thrust of Anna's charms, either her hair brushing my face, her breasts forming scallops in her blouse or brushing against my shoulder. I suffered the intense concentration of her body smell, her hair perfume, breasts giggling and her bottom gaily dancing her skirt as she tossed her head and walked across the room back to her office where she would sit down facing me and light up the room with her smile.

Anna sat in a room next to mine facing me from her desk. Most of the time we left the connecting door between our offices open for ease of communication, and so that I could watch her. How I wished I had chosen different office furniture, a glass fronted desk for starters or maybe no desk so she could just perch on a stall facing me! Next door was a small kitchen and toilet. I have never heard a girl pee so loud, I am sure she stood on the toilet to pee, it sounded like someone had turned a hose on.

In many continental European countries, it is quite normal to kiss each other on arriving and departing work. In Portugal 'de-rigor' is two kisses one on each cheek. There was always a slight embarrassment to our morning and evening kisses. I was never quite sure what I was doing or what I was supposed to do with Anna, she had a way of throwing me completely off guard. I never had a problem kissing any of the other female staff, it was a completely natural act, but with Anna I was never sure just where I was supposed to be kissing or for how long or how hard. My kisses landed in her hair, her ear, cheek, corner of the mouth etc., and I never knew where to put my hands! You had to lean in to kiss Anna; she had a habit of standing in a leaning back position. You would have thought that she was trying to say something with her breasts but it actually turned out that she was quite long sighted and leaned back to get people in focus - vanity, like for so many others, stopped her wearing glasses. So with this leaning back posture and the breasts you had to lean across, I was in great danger of pulling her to the floor as I leaned in to kiss her, so I had to hold on to her to kiss her. Just where do you hold a woman whose breasts keep staring at you when you are just giving a social kiss. Holding her arms or shoulders is too intimate and if I put my arm to her side, I invariably collided with her breast as we moved together. Putting my hand into the small of her back gave me a measure of her condition, sometimes hot and clammy, other times cool and damp. These were excruciating and exciting times, she made me feel like a teenager on his first date virtually every day for four years! This was a very personal way to conduct business. I am sure you get the picture; there was a level of intimacy quite unlike the norm of an Anglo-Saxon office.

The first year Anna worked for me, she developed from a shy young girl lacking confidence into a funny, confident young woman, fully aware of her blossoming sexuality. She adored my wife, acted like a daughter or a younger sister, determined to learn as much as possible from her.

During the following three years the sexual chemistry between Anna and myself developed to an almost 'out of control' level. There were times during this period when my entire day, and sometimes my dreams, were filled entirely by thoughts of Anna, the way she looked and smelt, the way she presented herself to me, almost brazenly, but confident, in control of the situation. We both knew that I would not touch her, in a way, this knowledge allowed her to take even greater risks just so she could see how far she could push me. I should have put a stop to it, but my wife, some reason that was never fully clear to me, encouraged both Anna and me to flirt. Ok, my wife picking up great sex from me when I got home, but I was never entirely comfortable with the way they both seemed to conspire to keep me on the edge; it was as if they had some kind of competition going. I can say that I never laid a finger on Anna, well not deliberately, sure, I was tempted, but I had seen too many marriages bust up that way and I did not want to go down that path. Sometimes I went home feeling slightly guilty at what had happened in the office, feeling that I had let my wife down, usually on those occasions I would find that Anna had already telephoned my wife with all the details so by the time I got indoors, my wife was as ready for me as I was for her.

I guess I just didn't think too clearly about exactly what was going on, I was happy with the situation, a young girl doing everything except seduce me all day long and a grateful wife happy to receive the fruits of Anna's labours when I arrived home. We all seemed happy to play a private sexual game with unspoken rules and undefined boundaries, well, most of the time; it was only in the final few weeks of my stay in Portugal that things crossed the boundary we imagined set for ourselves.

That is how it went on for four glorious sex charged years. At the end there were tears and hugs and promises to keep in touch, as ever we went our separate ways. Anna sent my wife and daughter birthday cards every year. When I was first to the morning post, I discovered that she also sent birthday cards to me signed "Missing You - Love Anna." Over the past fifteen years, I have only seen four cards; I expect there were others.

I came back three months ago to refurbish an old property I had bought. My wife has stayed in England to complete a contract that runs for another twelve months. Tonight, when I checked the e-mail, I found this:

"I have a little present for you - call me any evening between six and seven on xxx xxx xxx xxx, Love Anna."

TUESDAY

It had been late when I had arrived home yesterday from a day of visiting builders merchants. Anna's e-mail had been a surprise and set in motion the chain of thought about the years we had worked together. Last night I had been too tired to do anything other than remember, with some pleasure, those years. This morning I began to think about it. Christ what is this about? What present? Like the good little coward that I am, I sent the e-mail to my wife adding my message "Call me when you have read this!"

About six that evening my wife called, I had managed during the day to build myself into a state of extremely nervousness, without remotely understanding why.

"Look," I said to my wife, "I don't know what this is about, I haven't seen or spoken with Anna since that exhibition last year, I haven't done any thing..."

My wife interrupted, "I know you haven't done any thing, don't I trust you? Don't we trust one another? I know that you would never do anything behind my back and for that and for many other reasons I am really pleased that you sent me this."

"I'm going to ignore it, I don't know what she is talking about and I'm not doing anything to complicate matters, I don't want to get involved with her."

"Ah, so you admit that you're still attracted to Anna..."

"I didn't say that; I didn't mean that. You know what I mean; you are twisting my words. You know what I mean." I was almost shouting.

"Calm down," she said, "of course I know what you mean, I'm just playing with you."

"Look, I'm sorry, this whole thing has had me muddle headed all day. I have not been able to concentrate on the work. Half the time thought I should not have sent you Anna's e-mail and the other half I thought I had done just the right thing. What do you think is going on?"

"Think back to when Anna worked for us and just remember some of the embarrassing moments between you two when I walked into the office unexpected."

"What are you talking about, nothing happened with Anna and me in the office - or out of the office either, I don't know what you are talking about!"

"Listen, just calm down. It is important that you understand this so that you can be fully prepared for what might happen. Try to see the situation from her perspective. She was young, impressionable, charged full of hormones and you were like a knight in armour. We rescued her from an uncertain fate when we employed her. Did you not notice that she hardly had any clothes; she lived in the most god-awful place sharing accommodation with two other families. If we had not taken her on she may have been forced to seek - shall we say - less desirable work."

She continued, "Anna idolised you, every one of us saw it and you know it as well, we spoke about it often enough. Fortunately, I think she was too young and inexperienced to act on her urges although I am sure she almost plucked up courage a couple of times. Don't pretend to be stupid; you know what I mean. I can remember certain incidents or accidents just as well as you can. Remember, I used to encourage her just to egg you on a little bit. We all played a game for a couple of years, or have you forgotten that as well. I wanted you fired up and sexy when you came home, not sitting there, falling asleep on the sofa. Christ, there was even a time when I suggested you should fuck her just to get her out of your system, Anna wouldn't have objected."

Images tore through my mind at breakneck speed reliving the events and sensations. In our conversation, it was merely a pause, but for me, I relived those moments as if they were in real time, my mind drifted back.

For a few days the weather had turned hot and sticky, we all suffered, talked about getting air conditioning installed; on that particular day, we had an important meeting with the bank, the Manager visiting the office. Anna, not to be outdone, came to work wearing a very attractive scoop necked blouse in a silky material. The blouse, smoky grey in colour, swung with her breasts across her body as she moved through the office, it was clearly a bra free day.

The meeting with the bank went well, the Manager and I adjourned for lunch. Anna had a mass of documents to copy and deliver to the bank by the end of the afternoon. Unfortunately, the photocopier on our floor developed a fault and she had to use the copier on the third floor. All afternoon she was up and down the stairs copying papers and bringing them to me for checking and collating. She started to perspire, as the sun moved round to the west and shone full on my office, so the temperature rose and rose. I opened all of the windows and the doors to the terrace but there was not a breath of wind, we suffered and got on with the job. I was concentrating on the work in hand and hardly noticing what was going on around me. We finally finished the job at about 5.30 and sent the documents off to the bank with our young lad whom got all the delivery and collection jobs.

Anna came into my office, threw herself down on the sofa, and spread herself back, partly in a gesture of exuberance at having finally got the job completed, and partly to cool off. I was walking to the kitchen to get a cold drink, "Can I get you any thing?"

"Orange juice with lots of ice" she shouted.

When I came back into the room, Anna lay on the sofa, or rather she had draped herself across the end of the sofa, legs hanging loosely down, shoes kicked off. She wore a loose grey skirt with a black trim to the hem; the grey of the skirt matched perfectly the colour of her blouse. She looked at me as I came into the room and gave me one of her beaming smiles. Her skirt, already short, had ridden half way up her thighs the black hem band contrasting with the tan of her legs.

"Well that was hard work" she exclaimed, "I've never been so icky, I need a shower, why don't we get one put in?"

I had got used to her talking to me like this as if this was our house and we were discussing our domestic arrangements, talking this way was one of Anna's favourite games. As she spoke, she drew her feet up onto the sofa, the back of her skirt fell back onto the sofa revealing her legs all the way up to I don't know where. I was transfixed staring into the darkness where her thighs converged. Before I could reply she sat up to receive her drink, my eyes transferred to her blouse. Maybe it was because she had been lying down and the blouse had become soaked by her perspiration or maybe it had been like that for some time and I had been too buy to notice but now it was, well, less of a blouse and more of a transparent wrapper. It clung to her stomach, moulded itself under and over her breasts. She sat there and smiled knowingly at me as I passed her, her drink, aware that my eyes were exploring every millimetre of her breasts, taking in their quivering plumpness and the gentle uplift to her nipples. At that moment, my wife came into the room.

"Everything done?" She paused and looked at the pair of us, "Anna can you come with me."

That was the last I saw of Anna that day, my wife lent her a jacket and she went home, I did not even get my goodbye kiss.

"Well that was quite a little show, or should I say big show." my wife said as she came back into the room. "When were you planning to tell her? Or did you think all the guys in town deserved a treat."

"Honestly, I didn't even notice until she sat up just as you came into the room, I've been so busy all afternoon."

"Yeh, Yeh, I can see by the shape of your pants that at least part of you noticed, honestly I can't work out whether she does it deliberately or if it's just pure innocence, she was so embarrassed and asked me to get you to promise that you won't mention it or hold it against her. Still that means you can hold it against me so lets get you out of those trousers and see if we can work up a sweat. Honestly, Anna is such a sexy little thing."

That is the thing I love about my wife completely spontaneity where sex is concerned, if the mood is right everything comes off without a moment's hesitation. As we made love, I knew that Anna's 'innocent' display had managed to arouse both of us.

There was another day we both noticed Anna's body smell, it was clear that something was going wild with her hormones. It was not at all unpleasant, just sexually disturbing, enough to create a day long semi hard-on, the office smelt and tasted liked the inside of a fresh vagina. That day Anna wore a loose fitting white tee shirt and black Lycra pants, it turned out the pants were causing the problem. I noticed during the day that a damp spot was spreading across her crutch, as she walked from my office to hers a damp patch became evident on her rear. She took to shuffling out of the room sideways and eventually said to me that she was closing the door between our rooms so that she could concentrate on some work I had given her.