Down & Up The Road Ch. 01-02

Chapter 1 – Meet Sandy

I suspected something wild and outrageous was going on around the office, but I was surprised Cynthia Jamison was involved. Not because she didn't look like an exciting target, quite the contrary, but she was still so new to our group that it didn't seem possible that she could corrupt others so quickly, or become so openly corrupted so fast and easy.

When I found her, almost naked and being finger fucked, barely inside Stan's cubicle area just off an open hallway in our office, it blew me away. From my perspective as office manager, this scene demonstrated a serious situation that threatened office discipline and every possibility of responsible productivity. From my perspective as a member of this working community, I realized our work group was close-knit, liberal and at times outrageously intimate, but this was a new extreme by any definition. From my personal perspective, I found the entire scene to be erotic as hell, and it made my nipples stiff and pussy wet as my mind raced with wild memories of the times not so long ago that could have found me in a similar position myself.

I believe I was a few years older than Cynthia when our paths crossed, and I saw in her the naïve sexual awakening of a woman coming alive with her nasty side, and falling in love with it. I was still in my early twenties when I started to discover the same naughty nature of sex, and I was mentally and emotionally unprepared to deal with the heady power of dirty desires whether they belonged to me or the person I was with.

I grew up in a small farming town in south central Idaho. People there were strictly religious or absolutely not. My parents chose to be religious, so as an unavoidable consequence of my environment, so was I. My world revolved around the process of defining good and bad in every aspect of daily life, and then in developing control and protection against bad, and perfection of anything that was good.

As a teenager I was taught that sex was nasty or naughty and that good girls should always keep themselves sexually pure and un-defiled so they could enter into marriage with their virtue still intact and completely deserve the love and loyalty of their husband. The power of sexual desire was always cast as a villain that threatened to destroy young women; in that context, there was no such thing as good sex or even romantic sex as an expression of love, sex was only evil, and always dangerous. The aspect of danger associated with sex always frightened me, and it excited me at the same time.

As I matured and came closer to marriageable age the good side of sexual expression, and the romantic nature of physical intimacy was taught to be an appropriate though cautious demonstration of love, between two people. I personally found it hard to reconcile everything and tended to keep the visible show able things, like holding hands and kissing, on the romantic side, "making love" and the private, hidden and nasty things people did in secret on the naughty or wicked side of sex. Fucking to me didn't seem to be a part of "making love" at all; it strictly belonged with having sex, dirty, nasty erotic sex.

Throughout High School, the exciting and dangerous aspect of nasty sex competed for attention in my imagination, and I made a conscientious effort to suppress it or push it out of my mind. I viewed the naked image of my body at bath time and was pleased with the progress of my development and curious about the effect my body would have on boys. A wicked shiver would always run through me and my pussy would always feel alive and empty when I spent too much time thinking while I looked at myself. When I was out with other in activities or on dates, I would get embarrassed or scold myself when I noticed my attention drawn to boys crotches and wondering if I excited them, and then I would fight to keep myself and those around me under control and thinking pure thoughts.

I maintained strict standards for myself and required the same of the boys I dated. The most a boy ever got out of me was a kiss, and I dispensed them like rare war time rations. By the time I graduated from High School, I was proud of my record of virtue and conscious control over any nasty thoughts and considered myself to be a completely "worthy" candidate for marriage to the most eligible prospects in my little world.

After High School, I went to a rather small community college and decided to work on my marketable business skills so I could make a living if I didn't end up marrying the top the prospect. I met Ted Davis during those few years at college and the attraction between us was apparent to everyone around us from the start. Ted was a moral rock who completely trusted and respected me; as a result I felt stronger every day as we fell in love and progressed toward marriage. Any time our romantic passion heated up with the show able elements of love, we quickly applied the brakes to keep from going too far because we both respected each other.

I thought the positive feelings of love between us in courtship would give us would translate into real passion when e were married. In the last few days before our wedding, that growing passion even became a challenge to our moral resolve in spite of the defensive strength had always protected us. I was dying to see Ted's cock, and finally feel what it was like to have an erect penis buried deep in my sex.

The ceremony and spectacle of our church wedding and outdoor reception was lost in the agonizing anticipation of our first sexual intimacy. I must have been different than most girls who I think live for their "wedding experience" and worry about the wedding night. I was anxious and distracted to the point of not even recognizing who I was talking to at any given moment because my mind raced with wicked fantasies of nasty sex. When the public events finally ended, I dragged Ted off like a cave woman anxious to jump his bones and finally see what the warnings and cautions were all about.

Ted was just as virtuous as I was in every technical measurement, and even more so in every instinctive sense. Neither of us had experience in sex, but I think I had actually spent more time thinking about it, and was more excited about exploring its potential than Ted was. That must really seem strange given the traditional assumption that the average male reaches the peak in sexual libido at about 18 years of age and is considered normal if he is overactive in sexual interest; women generally reach their sexual interest peak at about 30.

Ted was full of social ideologies, and as far as sex was concerned, that first night and throughout the first two years of our marriage sex seemed to almost have a religious overtone; it was the tool through which we performed the sacred work of procreation and had little to with passion and excitement between a man and a woman. I got pregnant with our son about six months after our wedding. Both Ted and I were happy; it seemed like this was the thing we were expected to do in our church.

Since we started our family so soon, we weren't on top of things before I got pregnant and by the time Tyler was born, we were really falling behind financially. When I was pregnant with Jessica before Tyler was a year old we were in trouble, but too young and naïve to realize it. When Jessica was crawling we were both working hard to make sure we took precautions against pregnancy without really talking it over. We knew it was hard to provide the things young parents desperately want to for their children and there was an unspoken tension between us. Our church was opposed to birth control so we avoided discussions that were needed but uncomfortable; tensions continued to build.

After Tyler's third birthday celebration with our in-laws, I told Ted that I wanted to get a job to help out financially. No one gave us money, but we had a lot of family around willing to help out with child care concerns while we worked o get back on our feet. Reluctantly Ted agreed, he had already been working two jobs for six months and was too discouraged and humble to object. I was able to get a sales job with a small chain of fashionable clothing stores that catered to young women, and by working evening shifts, I could spend time with the kids until noon and Ted was there with them for most evenings because he was able to cut back hours on his second job.

I had learned enough, in business management courses, so that along with my natural easiness with people that helped me excel in sales, I was a natural for advancement in the company. Soon I was assistant manager responsible for closing and shortly after was offered the position of manager. I was heady with success and the confidence that came with it, and could see that within a year I could be making as much as Ted. With the reduction of financial pressure, we could really save and were soon looking for a small home to buy.

Ted and I both thought our love was as strong as ever and that sex was as good as it gets, in spite of the fact that we hardly had any waking time together during the week. The kids were loved and spoiled by everyone and the entire extended family thought we were a young family to envy; almost classic yuppies. Even though I thought our sex life was good, it was still very different from what I had always thought it would be from when I was first warned about its seductive power as a youth. There was still a near religious sweetness to it that made it a genuine expression of love, but in no way was it nasty erotic and dangerous like I had expected it to be.

That was where we were when my life started to take a turn that would have a lasting effect on all of us. The company decided we needed more square footage for retail space because sales were so high; I worked with the expansion and development team to finalize plans for a new build-out. I was excited to be working with a brand new challenge and to be the key person in the decision making for "my new store".

Chapter 2 – Seduction, the "Bad Boy"

When the company decided we needed more square footage for retail space because sales were so high, I worked with the expansion and development team finalize plans for a new build-out. I was excited to be working with a brand new challenge and to be the key person in the decision making process for "my new store".

I thoroughly enjoyed making important decisions and hiring professionals to do the work. I interviewed three commercial contractors who had been screened by the development team and had the final say on who would get the job to do the work on my store. They were all ambitious and apparently qualified to do the work but there was something about Darren Golightly that mesmerized me to the point I couldn't take my eyes off of him. Darren was charming and smooth; he could probably talk the ears off a jack rabbit, but in reality he embodied every image of a sexually dangerous male that had ever occupied my fantasies.

It's probably not hard for you to figure that I hired him; I know today that it was because my pussy was taking control of me but I would have vehemently denied it then. Every time he was close I got wet and my pussy absolutely flowed from the attraction and raw arousal. I'm sure Darren realized early the power he held over me and teased me with it slowly and relentlessly. He would compliment me and make me laugh and at the same time would draw the inevitable noose tighter and tighter around my neck. He must have known every dirty nasty thought or fantasy that had ever occupied my thoughts and understood my every weakness.

I still remember vividly the first time mask of propriety was ripped from me, to reveal the sexual lust that was building without pretence inside. Darren had been teasing and then complimenting me all afternoon. He kept telling me how "hot" I looked, and that he didn't believe it was possible that I had two children. He said I couldn't have an ounce of unwanted fat on me and delicately touched with his finger tips on the area of my lower tummy, between my navel and pubic bush that usually protrudes after a woman goes through child birth. He traced his finger from side to side saying he was sure there were no visible stretch marks left there. The physical contact was so personal and intimate it made my nipples stiffen noticeably. He could see their prominence beneath my light summer dress and I knew it. I thought he could see right through my clothes as he described my body so knowingly. It was obvious he was used to looking at naked females.

I was paralyzed with anticipation as we stood there and he looked down on me; not in my eyes but at my tits as he studied their heaving roundness and the dark cleavage between them. I looked down as well and was shocked at how obviously aroused my nipples were. Then it was over, and he turned away. I stood there trembling and weak and knew I was on a dangerous road. I knew that I should turn around and run like hell but at the same time, the confidence I had in my all-powerful new self convinced me I was in control and was allowing me to start down a dangerous nasty road.

For the next few hours we flirted openly keeping the sexual tension ever present. We had designed an area near the dressing rooms where people could relax and wait in comfort; it was like a sunken conversation area in a family room and Darren was sitting there looking over an order list he was preparing to phone in. I strolled over to stand close to him while he completed his call. The hem of my skirt was at about his shoulder level and I gently pressed the side of my leg against his arm to let him know I was there. While he was still finishing his call, he brought his warm hand up to almost absent-mindedly caress the back of my leg along the toned calf and on up to the sensitive area just above and between my knees.

Darren completed his call and then without looking at me remarked at how warm it was. After a pause, I said "Uhuh", just so he would know I heard, and then he said; "Why on earth would you wear panty hose on a warm day at a construction site. At least if that's what you're wearing?"

With that his hand started traveling slowly up the back of my leg with his fingers teasing the softness between my thighs. "I love it when a woman wears stocking and garters or at least keeps her legs bare." Darren said as his fingers got dangerously close to forbidden territory. Hell he was at forbidden territory the moment he touched my legs, but when his hand was all the way up my leg he moved it to the round firmness of my ass cheek and seemed to be trying to learn exactly what I was wearing by touch.

I was still frozen, not daring react, when his hand reached the small of my back, he slipped his fingers beneath the waist bands of my panties and hoes and slid it from side to side letting the backs of his fingers and nails brush along my naked skin. I held my breath as I fully expected him to pull my underwear off. He slowly started to tug everything down a few inches making sure both sides were coming along with the back until I could feel his fingers dip into the cleavage of my ass as he slid from side to side.

My heart was beating faster than it ever had and I was dizzy with arousal. Then he withdrew his hand and I wondered in panic and frustration at why he had stopped. Once again, the open hot hand was back, this time against the small of my back as he slowly caressed and smoothed it along my bare flesh. I was excited and anxious to be led by his suggestive touch as he stroked all of the naked skin he could reach. With his hand he gently urged me to turn until I faced him. From this position he stroked my bare tummy and up and ran the tip of his finger back and forth underneath the lower edge of my bra.

When he pulled the finger out and moved his hand to cup and fondle the fullness of my breast and gently pinch my hard nipple, I almost passed out. After his arousing exploration, the exploring hand moved back to my waist and gently urged me to turn around again. Once again he caressed the soft smooth skin of my back and then with practiced expertise, he deftly unclasped my bra with his single hand. "Take it off." He said in a whispered command; without hesitation, I reached for each bra strap, pulling them down and off my arms in that secret way women have of undressing in public without showing anything inappropriate.

Before I could pull the bra out of the dress sleeve, Darren's hand quickly reached up and took hold of the conservative fundamental material and drew it out from under my dress to examine it. As he studied the garment in his hand, I felt embarrassed, not because of what was happening or what we were doing, but because I thought the practical support bra looked functional and un-sexy.

Darren threw the limp fabric carelessly aside and his hand went back beneath my dress. Once again he moved me to face him and moved his caressing hand al the way up to quickly cover my breast again, this time it was fully naked and waiting. He squeezed and palmed my breast confidently, then he pinched my hard nipple fiercely, possessing it and me like never before. My pulse quickened and my pussy convulsed as I trembled in the first delicious orgasm I had ever experienced with another man. My God, what was I doing for hell sake I thought? Here I was being sexually possessed in adulterous lust and begging for more.

Darren's hand paused as he pinched my nipple firmly throughout my climax; then without comment the hand moved back to the waist of my underwear stretched across the crack of my ass. This time he deftly separated the nylon panty hose from my conservative full panties and once again started pulling down. As he pulled them down to my thighs so he could get them all the way down the material eventually became slack and loose so it fell all the way down to my feet. I had low heeled sandals on and he slipped each off, one at a time so he could completely remove them and then gathered up and threw my useless pantyhose across the room. He lifted each foot again and caressed my entire naked leg intimately before slipping my sandal back on so I could stand on wobbly legs.

Finally he reached back under my dress where I anticipated his intimate touch deep in my cunt and hungered for penetration. Instead, he pulled the plain conservative panties back up firmly into place and patted me on the ass. "Your body is too hot and sexy to be covered with conservative underwear Sandy." Darren said simply. "I don't think you want me to see stuff like this when I take off "all" your clothes." Then he went back to work leaving me standing there like one of our useless mannequins.

I was lost in a sexual web of seduction because of my own nasty fantasies and although anyone would say I could and should have gotten out of there right then to end it, there was no way I was prepared or even inclined to do that. Way down deep inside, I wanted to know what dirty and nasty sex was like. I knew what pure and loving sex was, and at that point, I didn't think it was enough. All afternoon I was ready, even anxious to be stripped naked and was more ready to take Darren's wicked cock deep into my belly, than I realized, subconsciously I wanted that to happen, but it didn't.

I went home that night, after the mall closed as usual, and Ted was already in bed. I sat in the living room, pulled my skirt and brought myself to another climax masturbating to my fantasies that now had Darren's picture painted all over them. When I climbed into bed, my husband stirred and I realized he was not fully asleep. He greeted me and wondered why I was so late coming to bed. "Were you sitting in the living room?" He asked. A nervous pulse rushed through me as I wondering if he had seen me getting myself off and was even excited by exhibitionistic fantasy. "Just unwinding after a long day," I said.