Amulet Ch. 01

Amulet

It all started with the weekend in Paris. I'd split up with Hilary my long-time lover. We'd made lots of plans for our future, we were intending moving in together, and then she told me she didn't want to be with me anymore. No reason, just walked out, blocked me on her phone, e-mail, internet, and any other way I could contact her. She moved back to the small northern coastal town she came from before I met her with no forwarding address. I had no way to contact her and I missed her sorely.

I had moped about for a few months after that, totally destroyed by her callousness. I thought we had something special, but it seems we had nothing at all. I was left to face the future alone without her, and it hurt.

I was in the local shopping mall one Saturday afternoon a few weeks later, and noticed there was a new travel agency offering 'Special,' introductory deals, so I stopped to have a look. 'Paris - the city of lovers,' one advert proclaimed, which I thought was rather ironic, given my recent 'dumped,' status, but I'd always loved Paris so I thought what the hell, there was more to Paris than romance. Twenty minutes later I walked out of the shop with my tickets for a long weekend in Paris.

Little did I know as I boarded the plane a few weeks later, that my life was about to change irreversibly over the course of the next few days. If I had known what was to happen I sometimes wonder, would I still have gone? That would be an 'oh fuck yes,' I believe.

I enjoyed my weekend in Paris, well, as much as anyone can enjoy something like that on your own without the companionship of someone special to accompany you. I'll admit, there were moments when I felt the pangs of loneliness and hurt when I was seeing or experiencing something that would have been nice to share with her, but I tried to move past that and enjoy it for what it was.

I hit all the art galleries and museums, saw the Eifel Tower, walked in Montmartre where the impressionists walked, the Moulin Rouge, Sacre Coeur, Napoleon's Tomb, and the rebuilding works and scaffolding around Notre Dame after the disastrous fire, drank coffee and watched the world go by at the outdoor cafés, saw the Mona Lisa at the Louvre, in short, all the tourist spots. I'd seen them all before on my previous trips to Paris, but these things are worth seeing more than once, that sense of history is good for the soul.

On Sunday, I made my way to the "flea market,' the biggest flea market in the world I believe. Here you can find second hand objects d'art of all kinds, in infinite variety, from as little as one Euro to thousands. The place is thronged with tourists all looking for a bargain of some sort, and often getting 'ripped off,' mercilessly instead. The market covers a huge area, street after street of stalls and shops that seem to go on and on.

I was just browsing, looking here and there aimlessly, when a young woman spoke to me in English as I passed one of the stalls. She was breathtakingly beautiful, light honey coloured skin, dark brown hair, with eyes that were such a dark brown they were almost black.

'I have jewellery sir, buy something for your lady love, a ring, a bracelet, or earrings, and she will always be true to you, I guarantee it,' she claimed. I smiled at that, which only encouraged her, and she stepped out from the table she stood behind and came to me. 'If you have a discerning eye for the more unusual items, come see what I offer you. This is not modern junk, this is genuine antique jewellery,' she claimed. 'Come, look sir, that's all I ask, see for yourself, make up your own mind. I have done my part, if you are worthy the item will choose you.'

Now that was a novel sales pitch and concept I thought, but it's true, when we see something we like, something we want and covet, do we choose it, or does it choose us? Anyway, I liked her immediately, although more than aware that she was trying to sell me something I didn't really need, and something that was going to be very expensive.

I did as she asked and looked at her wares, and what she said was true, she had what looked to be genuine antique items of jewellery. Gold, silver, some items beset with stones, or enamelled. I thought I might get myself a ring, not that I'm a great one for personal adornments, but then I saw something that caught my eye. It looked like a silver pendant comprised of two ellipses, with the larger ellipse elongated and enamelled in a deep pink colour almost red, with a smallish pearl set in the top ellipse. I laughed to myself when I saw it.

It looked for all the world like a woman's genitalia, a sacred yoni, with the pearl as the clitoris, which again amused me. In the ancient and often sacred texts about love, the clitoris was often referred to as the 'pearl,' and I knew straight away that this was exactly what this was supposed to be. If you get close enough to a woman's clitoris and are observant enough, you will see that the little pleasure bud has a pearlescent sheen to it, hence the ancient name, 'the pearl.'

'You like that Sir,' she stated, it wasn't a question. 'You wish to buy it for your wife, or lady love?' she asked. I shook my head and she caught on straight away. 'You have no wife or lady love,' she shrugged sympathetically, 'then truly this one has chosen you Sir. This was not made for a woman; it was made for a man.'

'It looks really old, where did it come from originally,' I asked her, just curious. Her dark eyes looked at me, or rather into me and there was something there I couldn't quite put my finger on, a strange look, and with total conviction she said, 'China,' adding 'but I buy it in Turkey on our way to Europe and now Paris. We may stay here, or move on to the UK, we don't know, but we are Roma sir, what you call gypsies, we always are moving. Buy it now sir,' she urged me, 'we may not be here for long. You will never regret it, I promise,' she said. She named a price, and I offered her just over half of her original figure.

She smiled; the bargaining was on. In the end I bought it for seventy-five euros, and she asked me if I was going to wear it now. She offered a small presentation box to put it in if I wished, but I just slipped the silver chain over my head, and it initially felt cold against my upper chest, but soon warmed up. I thanked her, and she gave me a dazzling smile.

'You have not only bought a beautiful pendant; you have bought much good fortune. It is said of this jewel that if you rub the pearl, the woman of your dreams will be yours,' and as I automatically reached to do just that she put her hand over mine. 'Do not rub the pearl in my presence sir, you are a fine young man, but I do not wish to be your lover, or your slave.' She smiled once more and thanked me as I left. Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice in Wonderland said.

I thought nothing more about it that day, it was just an amusing incident, one of these little quirky incidents that make vacations, holidays, and foreign trips memorable in years to come.

All too soon my weekend in Paris was over and I was back to the daily routine, only my routine was no longer the routine I'd become accustomed to over the last few years. I was working from home like so many others, and although the Covid 19 pandemic was all but over, I was still working from home most of the time.

Every few days I'd go into the office to touch base with other colleagues and my line manager. The big bosses had realised if we mostly worked from home as we had been doing for the last two years, they could down-size the office and save mega bucks on leasing and rental fees, and so the new order of home working was established.

We'd have in-person meetings where things were discussed, tasks allocated, further meetings set up, and memos from each meeting sent to the different department heads for the attention of those who weren't present on any particular day. 'Keeping everybody in the loop,' as they jargonised it. E-mails flew back and forth on a daily basis, and in this way the company managed to do the work it had done before without us all commuting into a physical, 'concrete,' building.

Some people still preferred to go 'into,' the office, but for my part I was happy to work from home. It meant I could stay in bed an hour later every morning if I wanted to, and I also had more time to myself in the evening when I would normally have been driving through heavy rush hour traffic to get home.

However, one day I had to go into the office, and there I met my new line manager. She was in her late thirties or early forties, so a little older than me, and this was my first meeting with her. I was wearing a dark business suit, with an open necked white shirt, but no tie. I fucking hate ties, the most useless article of clothing ever invented in my humble opinion.

She called me into her office, shook my hand, a good firm handshake, reciprocated by me, but trying not to crush her fingers. She did not look happy.

'When you come into this office a certain level of dress code is expected,' she began. 'Next time, please be sure to wear a tie, standards must be maintained,' she ranted on. Fuck, what a bitch, I thought.

'Your work seems to be satisfactory, but I'll be keeping a close eyes on you. Just because you're working from home doesn't mean you can be lax or slipshod in your approach. Do I make myself clear?' she demanded loudly.

'Perfectly,' I replied, thinking she'd either been promoted beyond her abilities and was totally insecure, and hiding it behind a nasty, bossy attitude, or she's just a cunt. Either way, I didn't take to her, she wasn't going to be my friend. She shuffled some papers on her desk, playing the busy boss, making me wait before she continued. I said nothing more just waiting for her to speak again, but quite unconsciously my hand had started to toy with the amulet I had bought in Paris. It felt good between my fingers, comforting, and as I fiddled with it she looked up and her eyes went to the amulet. Her eyes seemed to widen with surprise, disgust?

'What is that thing you're wearing round your neck?' she said, her voice quieter, not so strident. 'It looks... it looks rather obscene,' and paradoxically, despite what she said she smiled for the first time since I had entered her office. 'Lovely,' she said finally, still looking at it, her voice quieter still.

'You mean this pendant?' I said, holding it up and out towards her so she could see it even better. I wasn't even aware of what was happening at this point. I was still too annoyed about the way she had begun our very first meeting and the way she had tried to stamp her authority by stamping on me.

'It's just something I picked up in Paris,' I explained. 'I bought it from a young Roma, a gypsy woman. She told me some nonsensical story about it being a love... charm... of some... sort,' I ground to a halt, realisation beginning to dawn on me. Total disbelief, it couldn't be real, it was just sales talk, hokum surely, but here was Mrs Marshall, my new boss, a total fucker if ever there was one just a few short moments before, going all gooey eyed without warning, or any other reason that I could see. 'Was it down to the amulet, fuck no, it couldn't be,' I thought, being realistic.

'Fascinating... and how... how romantic. Paris, the city of... lovers,' she breathed out with a loud sigh. I watched her bitchy attitude melt away right in front of my eyes, and she sat there as if day dreaming about Paris, her eyes never leaving my amulet, a vacant smile on her face.

I took this moment of respite to study her a bit more closely. She was a fine looking woman I realised, dressed in a black business suit, low cut at the front, very feminine, but with a white lacy camisole worn underneath to conceal her cleavage. The skirt, as I had noticed when she stood up to shake my hand, looked tight and figure hugging, and she had a figure well worth hugging from what I could see. I felt myself begin to harden.

It was a pity she was such a shit was my first reaction, but this softening had taken those hard, spiky edges away, and she began to look deliciously attractive to me now.

'It looks beautiful,' she said, coming out from behind her desk. She had great legs too, slim, but shapely with very trim ankles, shown off to best advantage by black, patent leather shoes with three inch high stiletto heels. Very feminine, very sexy.

'Do you mind if I have a closer look?' she breathed huskily, looming over me. She was quite tall anyway, especially in those heels, and I was still sitting down. She came to me, and leaned down, studying it. 'Oooh... it has a lovely little pearl inset. I didn't see that from behind my desk,' she cooed, and suddenly I remembered what the Roma beauty had told me.

'If you rub the pearl, the woman of your dreams will be yours,' and I heard her words again as clear as daylight. 'Do not rub the pearl in my presence, I have no wish to be your lover, or your slave.'

Watching my boss, closely, I experimentally let my thumb slide across the round hemisphere of the pearl, just once. Her mouth opened wide, and her whole body shuddered. She slowly sank to her knees on the plush carpet before me, her knees about a foot apart.

'Oh god...' she gasped out. 'my legs... my legs have turned... to... to jelly,' she said as if trying to explain, and as she said it, I rubbed the pearl once more. Her eyes closed, her head slumped forward on her chest, and she moaned, loud and clear. She was horny, there could be no mistaking what was happening to her, and so I rubbed the pearl again. Her elegant hands, reached down, hooked the hem of the skirt and she began to pull it up, revealing wonderful, slim thighs. The higher she pulled the tight skirt, the wider she managed to spread her legs, until it was waist high. She was wearing very skimpy white panties, and her legs were now wide open.

'Mmm... nice panties,' I commented, and she opened her eyes to look at me, totally shocked, finally realising that somehow she was kneeling before me with her skirt round her waist. She shook her head when I said, 'I think you need to take them off.' She shook her head again, struggling.

'No... no...' she protested ineffectually, but her hands went round behind her, pushing the panties down at the back, over her bottom and then to her sides, pushing them down to the tops of her thighs. She leaned back a little and raised her knees to help slip them over her knees, and then reached behind herself again to slip them over her feet and off. I rubbed the pearl again, and she moaned once more.

'Show me,' was all I said, and she obligingly spread her legs wide apart to display a delightful, well-trimmed pussy. Her pussy lips were swollen and had split apart quite naturally, disgorging her juices. She glistened wetly in the office light and I could smell her arousal.

'What a lovely wet cunt you have Mrs Marshal,' I commented being quite crude about it. She nodded, agreeing with me. I unzipped, my trousers and fished out my cock for her to see. I was painfully hard and was longing to bury it to the hilt in the lovely little pink hole I could see between her legs, but I was feeling a bit bloody minded after her offensive little welcome speech when we first met.

'Do you like it Mrs Marshal?' I said mockingly, and she half-heartedly shook her head in a 'no,' gesture. 'But you'd love to suck it, wouldn't you?' I suggested, and despite herself, and her residual reluctance, she shuffled forward on her knees between my outspread thighs, and the elegant hands reached for and held my cock. She looked up at me then, almost a pleading look in her eyes, but a faint smile on her face. I rubbed the pearl again and she gasped out loud, her eyes closed once more, giving herself over to the irresistible sensations between her legs and I watched as her beautiful lips opened and then closed over my knob, sucking me into the hot, clinging depths of her mouth.

'Mmm...' she moaned as her head bobbed up and down on my lap. 'Mmm... nnn... she moaned again louder now, sounding as if she was loving it, and as I watched she slipped one hand between her thighs and sank her fingers into her pussy as far as they would go. Her hips started to thrust back and forth fucking her own hand. I rubbed the pearl a few more times to encourage and enthuse her, and suddenly she was coming. My cock fell from her slack mouth as she came.

'Oh fuck... oh yes... what am I... do... innnng... oh fuck... come... ing,' and she rocked back and forth as she finger fucked herself to completion. When it was over she looked up at me and smiled. 'That... that was... the best... ever,' she hissed vehemently. 'The best... ever.'

'Do you want me to fuck you now?' I asked her, still being quite crude, rubbing her nose in the proverbial shit of her own making. She nodded, 'Right, let's do it face down over your lovely executive desk shall we?' I commanded, and she struggled to her feet on wobbly legs. Her knees were bright red from kneeling on the floor, and I watched her walk back to her desk, move things out of the way, hitch her skirt waist high again, and obediently arrange herself face down awaiting my pleasure.

I got up and stood behind her. Her arse looked amazing, slim, but beautifully round and shapely, her parted thighs revealed her generously lipped pussy peeking out, glittering with her juices. Her pussy lips were thick and protruded enticingly from her groin. Still some dark hair covering her pubic mound, but well-trimmed, not concealing a thing to my delighted gaze.

I stepped up, closer and gently rubbed my tip between her labia, she moaned, and wriggled her bottom, as if trying to draw me in. I switched on my phone to record this to video for later.

'Looks like you want some cock,' I said. She nodded her head. 'Tell me then, I want to hear you say it. Ask me to fuck you,' and I rubbed the pearl on the amulet again just to make sure.

'Yes, okay,' she hesitated, I slapped her arse, she flinched, 'fuck me now,' she asked.

'What?' I said, 'if you want this lovely cock in your pussy I want to hear it loud and clear, and be polite when you ask me,' and I rubbed the pearl a few times again. She groaned loudly.

'Fuck me please,' she pleaded. 'Put your lovely cock in me and fuck me... please... please,' she begged, almost sobbing with frustration, and I pushed against her big pussy lips and sank gratefully into her wet and very tight pussy. She came almost at once, responding helplessly, jerking and bucking against my invading cock. I fucked her mercilessly, ramming into the spongy morass that was her wet hole.

How could an authoritarian bitch like her be such a great fuck I wondered as I ploughed in and out of her pussy? She was hot, wet and responsive, and she was well on her way to another orgasm when I felt that warning sensation distantly at first, but suddenly I was there and my balls released their heavy load, right into the clinging depths of her vagina. She felt it without a doubt and then she was coming too.

'Oh god help me... I... I'm coming again... fuck... shit... right in... my puuu... sssy,' she hissed, and then moaned, whimpering helplessly as her orgasm wrung her out like a wet dishcloth..

As I began to soften I pulled out, still filming her enjoyment, and went in for a nice close-up as my come drooled out of her pussy in white globules onto the floor. I looked around for something to clean myself with and picked up her little white panties and dried our accumulated juices off my cock and balls, before handing them to her, telling her it was time to put them back on.

She lifted herself off the desk and took them, lifting those long, gorgeous legs, first one and then the other as she put her panties back on. She pulled them up tight, where they quickly became even wetter as her pussy disgorged even more of our mixed fluids into the gusset.