Regrets

"Yes. They're not porno. They're real glamour. Nothing dirty."

"Yes, I can see that. And they're really quite good. But some of them are quite daring."

"But would you consider posing?"

"I'm not a model."

"Don't be silly. You're as good as any model I've ever worked with."

"So are you saying you'd pay me to model?"

"Two hundred an hour. That's what I pay the agency. So an hours modelling would cover the cost of your wheel and tyre."

"Would you expect me to pose naked?"

"Well if you're only interested in the tame swimwear, that wouldn't pay as well. So it would equate to around four hours. But as that would cost me more to hire studio time, I guess you'd have to make it two three hour sessions."

"What? I'd need to come back up here a second time?"

"As I say, unless you agree to the nude posing. I mean, it's all done tastefully. Nothing explicit, and all very respectable. Would you consider nude posing?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure if I dare."

"I'm willing to bet you've been topless on a holiday beach."

I blushed, and then said, "Only because my Garry wanted me to."

"And was it as bad as you'd feared?"

"I guess not. But there wasn't anyone around who knew us."

"And these photos I take are my personal hobby. Nobody but me ever sees them."

"If I say yes, how long will it take? I've got to get home before my Garry comes home from work."

"Oh, it won't be today, I've got to book the studio, and that's always fully booked for at least a week ahead. So if you agree, I'd need to book the next slot, and let you know."

"But I need the car fixing now."

"Yes, I'm trying to fathom that now. I mean not that you sound untrustworthy. And no offence meant. But if I fix your car, then you get cold feet when you've left here; I'm out two hundred quid."

Ralph said, "Can I have a word with Cheryl on our own? I've got an idea, but I'd like her to think it through without the pressure of you being here."

Andy just walked to the door and as he left said, "Give us a nod when you're done."

As the door closed, Ralph asked, "Are you ok with this modelling idea?"

"It's not what I'd want. And in truth, I'm not sure I'll have the nerve to go through with it. But as things stand, I can't think of any alternative."

"Ok, I've an idea of how you can satisfy Andy's need for a guarantee of delivery. And at the same time test your own resolve and determination. But once you go through with it, you'll be completely in his grip. There'll be no backing out."

"Well tell me, I've got to sort this one way or another."

"Ok, tell Andy you'll pose for a couple of shots now and also give him your address; so he'd know where to send them. That way, if you don't fulfil your part and come back to model, he can send the photos to your husband." At this suggestion, a cold chill ran down my spine, and Ralph instantly picked-up on whatever facial expression accompanied it. "Yes, I thought that would be enough to make you think twice. But you see, it also lets you prove to yourself you've got the nerve to go through with it."

"Yes. I see that. But do you think Andy will agree?"

"Well before we worry about that, the main thing is, are you prepared to do it that way?"

"If it's the only way I can get Andy to let me have a wheel; I guess I'll have to."

"So shall we ask him?"

"I guess so."

So Andy was called back in, and Ralph explained his idea to him. Andy looked at me and asked, "So you're happy to let me take the kind of photo that would make your husband blow a fuse?"

"I'd be lying if I said I was happy with the idea. But in the circumstances; as long as it is just taking a photo, and no funny business. Then yes, I'll try my best."

"Well these won't be glamour shots, so I won't need to worry about a studio."

"I guess not."

"And I'll need you to pose in way that shows you're doing it willingly, and one that can't be mistaken for an opportunistic snap taken without your knowledge. It needs to incriminate you. If you see what I mean?"

"Yes, I think so."

"You realise it won't be the tasteful glamour shot I normally take. Will you be ok with that?"

"I don't know. What are you thinking of?"

"Well now you've asked, I don't know. But as you're obviously nervous about posing, I have two suggestions before we start."

"Go on."

At this point he looked at Ralph as he said, "Well first, I know you came with him, but what is he to you; your lover?"

"No. Like he told you earlier, we only met this morning."

"So you'd be just as nervous about posing naked in front of him, as you would me?"

"Oh yes."

"So first off, he should leave before we start."

I looked at Ralph, and although he'd helped me so much already, I knew Andy was right.

"Well yes, I guess so."

But Ralph didn't look happy about this, and he said, "Are you sure you trust him?"

Andy snapped, "And why shouldn't she? And anyway, what difference would you being around make? What makes you so trustworthy?"

"I brought her up here to help her. I'm not the one trying to get her naked."

"So why don't you buy the wheel and tyre for her?"

"I told you I haven't..."

Andy cut him short, "No. I didn't think so. So unless you can add anything useful to her situation, I think you'd be better off taking a walk around the yard."

Ralph looked at me, "Is that what you want me to do? Leave you alone with him?"

I didn't want any of this, but if I had to pose naked, I'd prefer to do it with only one man seeing me. So reluctantly, I said, "Would you mind? I know it seams an ungrateful way to reward your kindness, but I really am nervous about taking my clothes off."

"And you feel safe on your own with him?"

"I'm sure he's trustworthy. And if this is the price I have to pay to cover my stupidity, then so be it."

Ralph didn't reply, he turned on his heals, and looking thoroughly disappointed, he walked to the door. But before he'd opened it and left, Andy said, "Hold up." Then looking at me, "You are gonna do this, aren't you?"

"Yes, I can't see I have any alternative."

"Ok. Well while you're out there, tell Chris I said to get that tyre swapped, and fitted to her car." Then looking at me, "Well that's you out of trouble. I just hope you're going to be worth it."

And then without acknowledging Andy, Ralph left, closing the door behind him.

Andy said, "Ok, now the next question. Are you driving?"

"Driving? What d'you mean?"

"I mean did you drive here and are you driving back home?"

"Well no, Ralph drove up here. And unless he's too upset with me, I was hoping he'd drive home."

"So it won't be a problem if you have a drink?"

"Oh no. I don't want a drink. One glass of wine and I go all light headed."

"That's the point." And at that, he pulled open the draw of the filing cabinet behind him and out came two glasses and a bottle of brandy. "You're nervous and this will help calm your nerves." He poured two glasses and passed me one. "Drink this down, and I'll pour you another."

"Oh no, please. I told you. I'm not a drinker."

"So it'll have all the more effect and start working quicker."

"But I don't even like the taste."

"Look luv. If you're gonna play silly buggers, I might as well just call that boy-scout back in, and get him to take you home."

"Please, I'm not trying to be awkward. But I know how drink affects me."

"Ok, if you reckon you can do this sober. Take your knickers off, and show me your twat."

"Oh my god! I thought you said the poses would be tasteful?"

"These aren't poses for me; these are pictures to make sure you come back."

"But I never imagined you'd want to take pictures like that."

"I need to make sure you're not gonna just drive off and leave me two hundred quid down. Now drink that and get those knickers off."

"I. I don't think I'd be able to pose like that, not even if I drank the whole bottle."

He took hold of my hand and put the glass into it, saying, "Drink this, and one more. And then let's see what decision you come to."

He lifted the glass to my lips, and I attempted to drink it. It tasted horrible and after just a couple of sips, I began to cough. I said, "I can't drink any more."

He again lifted the glass to my lips, "Drink."

It took a few minutes, but eventually the glass was empty. But the second I put it down, he re-filled it, lifting it again. "Come-on."

Funnily enough, the second glass was easier, and as I put it back on the table, he said, "Good girl. Now you know what comes next?"

"Please Andy. I've drunk your brandy, but I still can't do that."

"So if you can't do that now. Then I'd be stupid to let Chris fit the wheel and tyre. I mean once you get away from here, there's no way you'll come back. I mean, why would you? There'd be no point if you can't take your knickers down."

"So you're saying I can't have the wheel?"

He filled my glass again, and as he pushed it towards me, he said, "Drink this, and maybe we'll come to a compromise."

"Like what?"

"Drink that first."

I picked up the glass and before I'd realised what I'd done, it was empty. As I put it down, and went to speak, the drinks were now making themselves known by the fuzzy feeling in my head.

It took a few seconds to gather my wits, and then I asked. "What compromise?"

"I'm guessing you'd rather get it over with now, I mean, instead of having to come back and model for me?"

"Well yes. But you said you couldn't book the studio at short notice."

"I can't but if you pose now, here in my office, then maybe we can call that payment?"

This sounded really good. For one, like he said, I'd not have to worry about returning. Two, more importantly, I'd not have to let him know how to contact my husband. And last but not least, now the posing doesn't need to be compromising.

"Oh yes, I like that idea. And I'll still get my wheel and tyre?"

"Yes. But obviously, because it's only gonna be a makeshift session, y'know, no studio lights, no wardrobe selection, and no hair stylist nor make up; I'll expect you to play ball with me."

By now, the effect of the drink was really kicking in, and I was having difficulty working out what he was saying. Not the words, but exactly what their meaning was.

"I. I'm not sure what you mean by playing ball?"

He got up from his chair and as he arrived at my side of his desk, his hands went under my armpits; lifting me to my feet. And then he guided me across to his big old settee at the other end of his office. As he backed me into a sitting position, he began to undo the buttons on my blouse.

"What you doing?"

"If you're gonna pose, we'll need this off." And he was now easing my arms from my blouse. As he dropped it to one side, he reached over the top of me, and seconds later my bra was removed. I lifted my hands to cover my breasts. But by now he was busy with my belt buckle, and once that was released he did the same to the waist button and zip on my skirt.

As he eased me back into the settee with hands on my shoulders, I said nervously, "What are you doing?"

"I told you, I'm getting you ready to pose. Now lift your bum."

I was confused, but I guessed if I was going to pose nude, even tastefully, my skirt would need to come off. So by arching my back into the settee, I lifted my bottom clear of the seat. And with hands on either side, he pulled the skirt from under me. But it was only as I felt the elasticated waistband of my knickers as they slipped under my bottom, that I was aware he was taking them as well. Leaving me totally naked.

My first reaction was to reach down and try to stop him. But again, before I'd even begun to react physically, I must have mentally accepted their removal as a necessary part of posing for him; and so my resistance was no more than just a token. And yet, it still didn't feel right.

But as he threw my skirt and knickers aside, he knelt down in front of me, saying, "There you go, that was easy." And as he put a hand on each of my knees, and slowly began to open them, "Now luv, let's see how you're gonna pay for your wheel."

I resisted, but he'd got more strength in his hands than I'd got in my legs. I even uncovered my breasts as I used my hands on his wrists. But with seemingly little effort, he spread my knees wide apart.

I pleaded, "Please Andy. I'm not ok with this."

He raised his head and looking me directly in the eye, said, "Just be a good girl, and you'll be on your way home before you know it."

"But I don't want you taking photos of me like this."

"I'm not gonna take photos. I haven't even got a camera here."

For a split second I was reassured, but as he said he hadn't even got a camera, my head went into a hyper-spin. I couldn't think what the hell was happening. And then as the only outcome of my current situation hit me, I said, "Oh no. No way. Let go of my knees."

He calmly said, "What's wrong. I'm only looking."

I was still using every ounce of my strength in an attempt to re-close my knees, but then I wondered; was this his compromise? No posing as such, but just him looking at my nakedness. I said, "That's all. I mean you're only gonna look at it?"

"For now, yes. But unless you stop fighting me, I'll up the ante."

"What d'you mean?"

"What I said. Stop fighting me; let your knees drop open. Otherwise, you might find yourself spread out along the settee, while I claim a realistic price for your wheel."

Even in my fuzzy state, it only took a split second to realise he meant he'd fuck me. And it was obvious by the relative strengths I'd encountered already, that he'd get his way. So reluctantly, I removed my hands from his wrists, and relaxed the force in my legs.

As he took his hands from my knees, he sat back on his heals, saying, "Now that's better. What was all the fuss about?" I didn't reply, but I guess without consciously realising it, my hands had gradually returned to covering my breasts. "And you can take them off there. I want to see all of you." I complied instantly; dropping my hands to the seat cushions either side of me. "And your knees, I said I wanted them open." Again I hadn't realised I'd let them close slightly. But I instantly complied, forcing them really wide. "I'm glad you've decided to cooperate. But you do realise that defiance means you've raised the stakes?"

"I. I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean?"

"You have to give willingly, and without hesitation. I told you. Fighting or resistance only ups the ante."

"But I opened my knees. Look. That's as wide open as I can get them."

"Yes. And very nice it is too. But you fought me."

"I didn't mean to. I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

"We'll see. Now edge your bottom forwards to the front of the cushion, lie back, and spread your knees as wide as you can get them."

It only took seconds, and as I lay sprawled back, he said, "Now no fighting it. I'm only gonna lick your twat. But the first sign of resistance and the price of that wheel goes up to a fuck."

So I lay there and watched as his face went down into the valley in between my legs. As his tongue touched, it ignited a flame, which grew in seconds and before he'd been at it a minute, it had spread like a forest fire. Within minutes (I have no idea how many) every part of my being wanted one thing.

And as he had now manoeuvred me to a lying-down position along the settee, where his mouth suckled from nipple to nipple as two of his fingers fucked my pussy into a lather; I guess his body was thinking the same as mine. Which was confirmed a minute or so later, as he lowered his jeans and boxer-shorts and positioned himself in between my open legs.

As his cock touched my pussy, I heaved up, and he was in. And once he was in, he wasted no time, pounding away like it was the hundred yard sprint. I guess my performance wasn't anything to write home about either. I'd gone from terrified and uncooperative, to compliant but unwilling; right through to a libido-driven auto-pilot. But through all those phases, my senses were dulled by the drink, almost to the point of numbness.

So although my body relished the fucking he was giving, it didn't respond, not even with my normal subdued sighs and gasps (my Garry didn't like me to make noises whilst we made love. He said it sounded fake; like a whore). But as I say, I had no such problems with Andy; I was too drunk to react. And I guess, as his fuck couldn't have taken more than five minutes, I'd hardly have had chance, even if sober.

But one thing about Andy, which really got my attention, was his cum. Not that I saw it, it was all shot up inside my pussy. But when my Garry cums, he usually pumps four or five times, and then pulls out. And as Garry is the only man I've been with (before today), I was surprised as Andy continued pumping. And I even started counting. I'm sure he pumped at least twelve shots, and with every one, I felt the telltale swell as the cum was pumped through his cock.

So as Andy pulled out, and pulled back up his jeans and boxers (neither of which he'd actually removed from his legs), he left the porta-cabin, saying, "I'll go and see if your cars ready."

I looked around and gathered up my clothes, but look as I may, my knickers were nowhere to be found. So fully dressed, minus knickers, I looked in the mirror on the wall to check my hair, and re-apply a little slap from my handbag. I'd checked my pussy, and apart from the usual juices present after a session (which I cleaned-up with some tissues), the copious amounts of cum didn't appear to be presenting a problem.

But it was as I'd got my skirt pulled up with legs parted, checking the area, that the door flew open without a warning knock. As Andy walked in, followed by Ralph, Andy said, "What's up luv? Want some more, now you've got the taste for it. I'm sure Ralph here wouldn't mind a bash." Then turning and looking at Ralph he continued, "You're welcome to use my couch if you want a fuck before you leave."

I'd obviously dropped my skirt and closed my legs as soon as I'd realised the door was opening. But I guess the effects of the alcohol were not just dulling my senses, they were also slowing my reactions. But even at that, I doubt Ralph got to see my naked legs. And even though I wanted to ask Andy for my knickers, I didn't want Ralph to know I hadn't got any on; so I kept that question back, hoping I'd get a better chance before leaving.

But Ralph didn't reply to Andy's question, he just came over to me, and asked, "Are you ok? I mean, I guess it's obvious what's gone on in here. But I mean, you're ok with that? He didn't rape you?"

Andy snapped in a very angry tone, "Rape! Don't you go saying things of that sort. I explained her situation to her, and she agreed this was the easiest way to settle it." Then looking at me, "Tell him."

Had I been raped? I definitely didn't agree to let him fuck me. In fact, I'm not too sure what I agreed to. And most of what I did, I only did because I knew he'd force me otherwise. I mean he threatened that; hadn't he?

But if I even suggested rape, not only would the wheel he was supplying evaporate, but if the police got involved, my Garry would find out and he'd kill me; or worse.

So against every instinct I felt about telling the truth, I meekly said, "No Ralph, he didn't rape me. I settled the bill for the wheel and tyre, so now I won't need to come back."

"And you're alright? You look a little confused."

"She had a few glasses of brandy. Dutch courage to get over her shyness."

I added, "Yes. But maybe I should have stopped at two, that third one has really made me woozy."

Andy said, "So Ralph, are you gonna claim your reward. The offer is still open if you want me to make myself scarce while you have some sloppy seconds. Mind you, I will say this. She's right about one drink too many, it's a bit like fucking a blow-up doll."