The Laura Effectbykrr1957©
This young woman had obviously adjusted the darts on her standard issue white blouse to emphasis her attractive bust line and her skirt had been shortened so that it was probably just on the wrong side of regulation length.
I also noted that she was wearing make up. This too, whilst not strictly prohibited, was discouraged but hers was very subtle. She had beautiful blue eyes which she had pointed up with a light mascara and a very pale grey eye shadow. I found myself checking out her full lips. If she had not used lipstick then she had certainly used a clear gloss.
"I'm sorry I didn't mean to snap."
She smiled genuinely.
"There's no need to apologize, I guess she got us both a little hot under the collar."
I did not know how to reply. It seemed important to repudiate her assertion, even if it held a strong element of truth, particularly as she was now looking at me conspiratorially.
"She's very young. She was just testing the boundaries. She'll come into line."
"Young or not did you hear the things that they made that woman do?"
For reasons I could not explain I found myself mounting a defence.
"She also suggested that there was some give and take."
She was silent for a second or two and appeared lost in thought. She idly toyed with her hair, which, whilst kept to the proscribed length, was cut in a rebellious elfin style.
"Do you believe her?"
"It's possible. All else apart, some people have a naturally dominant personality and others are perceived as innately submissive. There are innumerable case histories of manipulative personality types influencing others do their bidding".
"But do you think that she could make someone do that?"
I was beginning to find her questions both impudent and a little intrusive and my reply was more sarcastic than I intended.
"How would you react if I asked you to come over here and get down on your knees?"
I hoped that my rudeness would bring an awkward conversation to an abrupt end but she looked neither angry nor aggrieved. Instead, her expression was odd, hard to read, and there was a long pause before she replied.
"Is that what you want me to do?"
She was not replying in kind. She said it quietly and I was shocked to realize that she was framing it as a genuine question. In the next few seconds my thoughts crowded in on one another and my heart began to race. My conscience screamed professional integrity but there were darker forces at work deep in my psyche.
"Lock the door."
The words came from my mouth but it was as if it was not my voice. There was no hesitation on her part. She rose from the chair, turned the key in the lock, and then waited.
I could see now that she was some inches shorter than me, perhaps five feet four, but she had a slim build and her body was perfectly proportioned. I knew that I had to act quickly before I lost my nerve.
She took half a dozen steps to close the gap between us and I noted that she was no longer looking me directly in the eye; instead, she kept her eyes downcast at the level of my neckline.
She stopped in front of me and I sensed that she was awaiting instructions.
I held my breath, wondering if this was a step too far, but she slowly dropped to her knees.
In seven years of psychology training nothing could have prepared me for this. Had I been asked I could have given an analytic appraisal citing character traits, natural urges perhaps even suggestion techniques but that all seemed a world away.
"Lift my dress."
This was the moment. My panties, already partly soiled by my activities a few minutes earlier, had become appreciably damper in a matter of seconds and I was inviting this young stranger to witness my arousal.
She reached forward, almost reverently, and took hold of the hem of my dress. She paused for a heartbeat and then slowly lifted it
Almost at once I could smell myself and, for an instant, some deep seated sense of propriety made me feel a little ashamed, but then I saw the look on her face.
My panties had started the day a pristine powder blue but they were now visibly discoloured by a damp patch that was still slowly expanding and, as I looked down, she leaned inwards.
That which, only a moment ago, had seemed sordid now became shockingly compelling.
"Get closer. I want you to smell me."
For the first time she appeared to hesitate, as though she might be entertaining second thoughts, but I could not stop now.
My tone was a shade harsher and it brought the required response. She inched forward until her tip of her nose was almost touching and then I saw her chest swell as she breathed in deeply.
Only a quarter of an hour earlier I had hesitantly experienced the scent of another for the first time and now here I was demanding the same of someone else and I found it thrilling.
She was holding the breath that she had drawn but I wanted her to keep filling her lungs; driven by some previously untapped inner arrogance I was determined that she would never forget me.
She breathed slowly through her nose and the simple act of watching was enough to make me hotter.
"Take them off…"
I was tempted to add the word "slowly" but it proved unnecessary. She gently took hold and peeled them delicately down to my ankles allowing me to step out of them and leave them where they lay.
She returned to her station and her eyes were wide with excitement, and perhaps a little trepidation.
"Take off my skirt."
I turned my hip a fraction, revealing the side zip, and she slowly worked the fastening. As the dark material slid down my legs I pushed it aside impatiently with my foot.
I now stood with my legs a little apart and she knelt before me gazing at my sex. In truth it was a little untidy. John liked me to have regular waxings but when he went away for any length of time my rebellious streak kicked in.
My protuberant labia now emerged from a young dark growth which, to my mind, conveyed a rightful sense of maturity. We remained frozen in place but the stillness of my body was not matched by the beat of my heart which was pounding ever faster.
I was going to make her lick me, I knew it, she knew it, and the sense of power was intoxicating. I could feel my sex swelling, opening just a little, and then the prickling of a single bead of moisture as it traced its way down my inner thigh.
Her eyes slowly dropped following its slow sinuous progress and then, for the first time since she went down to her knees, she looked up at me. I made her wait for a silent count of three and then I smile indulgently.
She needed no further encouragement. She bowed down and touched her tongue to my knee and then slowly worked her way upwards following the silver trail.
Her tongue was hot and the touch slightly ticklish but I almost swooned with the pleasure of it and she, for her part, gave a deep purr as she lapped the taste of me from my skin but as she drew closer to my sex she paused as though again unsure. Her tongue lingered in the crease than formed the border of my mons and her nose nuzzled at the undergrowth with a soft rasping.
I tolerated it for a moment or two but I was, by now, almost breathless with anticipation. I brought my fingers to my sex and eased myself open presenting the heat and wetness. My own scent was stronger than I had ever known it and it must have wreathed about her face with an almost tangible thickness.
She seemed almost frightened by it but there was no way I was going to stop now.
"Look at it."
Again there was an unaccustomed edge to my voice but it had the desired effect. She moved away just a little and stared at my open maw and I could feel myself oozing beneath her gaze.
"Don't keep me waiting.
I looked down on her as she put out her tongue once more and, for a second or two, my knees threatened to buckle but then she eased forward and I felt the first hesitant touch.
No confirmation was needed; I could tell that this was her first time. She kept her tongue still as she experienced the warm softness and the raw taste before she began to gently probe testing the resistance of my labia.
The ease with which she was able to slip inside seemed to take her by surprise and I moaned as I felt her tongue swelling within but I needed to retain control.
"Not yet…I want you to lick me."
She reluctantly withdrew but immediately began to use the flat of her tongue in a series of broad sweeps from the bottom to the top of my sex.
Her technique left much to be desired but the fact that she was a woman and the knowledge that she would do anything I asked was enough to bring me to the edge. Realizing this, she moved a little higher seeking out my clitoris.
"Take your time."
I could have surrendered to an orgasm right then but I wanted to savour the moment. I knew that my interview was the last booking of the day and there was little chance of us being disturbed.
She looked up at me with a hint of petulance in her eyes but she hunched lower and picked up the rhythm once more.
I placed my hand lightly on the top of her head and, for the next few minutes, I continued to direct her.
"A little slower…"
She followed each new instruction without demur and seemed gripped by an inner calmness but I knew that I could not hold out much longer. I let my hand slip a little to the back of her head and then gave one last command.
Her neck was, by now, a little stiff but she ignored the discomfort and adjusted her stance. I guessed that my clitoris was no larger than average but, just then, it felt as if it had swollen to twice its normal size and she found it unerringly.
That first touch was electric and my whole body shivered with the pleasure of it. I had reached a climax whilst standing on many occasions but this was like no other. She was licking with a new found ardour and I found myself grinding my sex against her face.
Desperate for relief I gave up any pretence at control but my body refused to let go. It was as if it knew that a few more seconds of exquisite tension would bring a reward beyond measure.
I looked down at her again but her eyes were fixed as she licked ever faster. Her face was red with exertion, her forehead glistening with perspiration, and only then did it occur to me that she too was close.
The thought that she could come without touching herself, simply through this act of devotion, was the final trigger. My body stiffened and then shook as jolts of pleasure coursed to every extremity. They radiated from my sex and then surged back to collide with even more powerful tremors so that I was caught in a quaking ecstasy.
It was as quick as it was violent and this was just as well. I could not have taken much more and I recognized that the desperately muted screaming that I could hear was my own.
As my body finally began to relax I realized, guiltily, that I had held her pressed hard against me throughout and, as I released her, she gasped for breath.
Having assured myself that she was okay I slumped down into her chair but, even now, my body was still shaking slightly. As I tried to compose myself I wondered idly if she had managed to come herself. She looked totally washed out, convincing me that she had, and this sparked a new train of thought.
I wanted to know, now that it was over, if she felt embarrassed or perhaps guilty. I was surprised to find that I felt neither but I was mischievously determined to find out. I opened my legs revealing the sodden mess that my sex had become. A mix of saliva, perspiration and arousal had matted the dark growth and my labia were lewdly relaxed.
She was still looking at the floor, gathering herself, but my spoor was in the air and it finally caught her attention. She turned towards me and, as she did so, I stroked a finger over my pubis.
"Come and clean me up."
She appeared disconcerted, as though she misunderstood, and then she looked aggrieved and, for the first time, it occurred to me that she might have expected me to return the favour. The fact that I was going to disappoint her was oddly exciting but I knew that it was important to reassert myself.
I could see, in her eyes, an internal struggle being waged but I could almost feel her bending to my will. Slowly but surely her body began to move and, without getting up from her knees, she came towards me.
No further words were necessary. She began to lick at the salty residue on my inner thighs and then she began to groom my pubis itself. As she did so she made a soft sucking sound and I felt a growing twinge.
I did not think that I would be capable of more but hearing her as she diligently went about her task was threatening to bring me back to the boil. She understood what was happening and began to exploit her advantage.
Her tongue roamed over my pubis, sometimes returning to my thighs, but she avoided my labia and very soon I was squirming. This went on for some time but finally I could take no more and I whispered under my breath.
"You little bitch…"
She looked up at me from between my thighs and smiled broadly and then in one movement she clamped her mouth to my sex and sank her tongue deep inside. I was taken by surprise but then I tensed my muscles and held her in.
Once again she must have had difficulty breathing but she made no attempt to free herself and as I looked down at her worshipful eyes and her buried nose seemingly fringed by my pubic hair I felt myself start to come for a second time.
This time it was not so intense but I made it last longer as I rode it out and the whole time I was aware of her swallowing down my offering.
When it was over I was breathing hard and I remained slumped in the chair with my eyes closed. When I opened them again she was standing in front of me proffering my clothes. For a space of time we had suspended reality but now it was back with a brutal harshness.
She had cleaned herself up as best she could and was now anxious for me to get dressed. I became aware, once more, of the background noises that marked out the building as a storehouse of misery and I put on my clothes without a word. We both knew that, had we been caught, we could have said goodbye to our careers and we parted in conspiratorial silence.
As I left the room the insanity of what I had just done came home to me and I knew that it must never happen again but that thought brought with it a rueful realization that it had been one of the most exciting moments of my life.
Later I returned to my apartment and took a long shower but, even having had something to eat, my mind was still buzzing with the thrill of it and I desperately wished that John was with me.
It was a warm evening and I sat on my bed dressed in a short nightdress whilst I browsed the case papers for the following day. It took about an hour and I knew that I was simply avoiding the one job that needed to be done.
Finally, I could put it off no longer. I picked up Laura's file and began to think about the case notes. In due course I would receive a transcript of the interview, and I was mildly amused at the thought of what some poor young secretary was going to be obliged to type up, but for now I had to jot down my impressions and initial conclusions.
For the first time in my career I found it hard to remain dispassionate. Her seeming lack of remorse counted against her but she had thrown out the tantalizing hint that her victim was not totally coerced. My immediate inclination was to not put her name forward for the rehabilitation scheme but I was convinced that, given time, I could work with her.
Unfortunately, when writing up the notes, it was difficult not to picture her in my minds eye and that, in turn, brought me back to my own subsequent outrageous behaviour. This remembrance brought with it a growing heat between my legs that was becoming harder to ignore.
Taking a pragmatic approach I put the file to one side and settled back into the piled pillows. Opening the bedside cabinet I took out my trusty vibrator and switched it on. I would treat myself to one orgasm and then I would get back to work.
I was surprised to find that I needed little teasing and I was able to slip the simple white shaft deep inside almost from the outset. I tilted it slightly to touch it against my clitoris and it was at that moment the telephone rang.
I switched it off but left it inside as I grabbed for the phone. I was surprised to hear John's voice and only then appreciated just how late it was. He was back in his hotel room having entertained clients for dinner and he proceeded to tell me about his latest deal.
I loved him but, in truth, I could have done without hearing the minutiae of his business affairs. I understood how lonely it could get on the road and that sometimes you just needed a sounding board. From time to time I filled in with details of my day but, for the most part, he did the talking.
I must have done it without thinking because, as I continued to listen, I felt the vibrator buzzing deep inside and, before long, I was slowly pushing it in and out.
Lulled by the sound of his voice I slid a little deeper into the pillows and started to raise my hips to meet the movements of my hand.
I was no longer paying attention to what he was saying but I tried to picture his naked body. The problem was that as I grew more excited it was not his image that came to mind but that of Laura teasing me with her breasts.
I tried to dismiss it but my efforts were only half-hearted and each time I surrendered once more I felt myself getting ever nearer to a climax. At some point the phoned slipped from my sweaty grip but instead of retrieving it I used my fingers to caress my nipples which had grown painfully distended.
It took very little longer. I was soon pistoning the vibrator in and out of myself in an uncontrolled frenzy and squeezing my breasts. I tried to stay quiet but what started as a stifled groan became an uncontrolled shriek as I clawed my way to the pinnacle.
It was over quickly but then there was the sublime moment of knowing that there was to be no softening, that my loyal little friend would carry on untiringly until I decided otherwise.
I eased it out slowly but let the tip of it rest against my pubic bone from where the vibrations were transmitted to my still excited clitoris. I knew, from experience, that it would take a long time to come this way but I also knew that my patience would be rewarded with a second slow, drawn out, climax, which would leave me completely drained and ready for sleep.
As I surrendered to the pleasurable sensations I guiltily reached for the phone again but, in dropping it, I must have disconnected the call because all I could hear was a dial tone. I was not worried; John would phone back and I would apologize for accidentally cutting him off, but in the meanwhile …
I managed to tease myself for nearly an hour, occasionally varying the pressure to bring myself closer only to ease off at the critical moment but, throughout, I was still plagued with images of Laura and of the other young girl who had brought me so much unaccustomed pleasure earlier that day.
When I finally came I almost cried with the intensity of it and when it was over my body was sheened with perspiration. I decided to rest for a few moments before showering once more but I must have drifted off.
By the time I awoke the sun was well risen and I had to rush to get ready. Only as I was going out of the door did it occur to me that John had not phoned back but that would have to wait.
The day was particularly busy and passed quickly and once back at home I tried calling his mobile. When that failed I tried the hotel switchboard but he had requested not to be disturbed. I was not unduly worried figuring that he would phone as soon as he was able.