Her Ch. 01

He managed to walk himself to the house and hold the door open for her. Then began a whirlwind tour of his home. Hilda gave him a disapproving look when she saw how young his date was. He paid it no mind. They went through the kitchen he seldom used, the dining room, the guest rooms, the conservatory, and finished up in the drawing room. She was particularly impressed by the view of the valley. He poured brandy at her request and eagerly served it to her.

"I just love your home, it's so incredible," said Krista, taking a sip of her drink and running her hands along the stone above the fireplace. "It's so traditional... old fashioned..."

"I'm an old fashioned kinda guy," he said.

"Oh I know," she said. "And I like that about you, too," she said, drawing in close and putting her glass down. He breathed her in and could scarcely move a muscle. Her face lingered mere inches away from his own, and they gazed into each other's eyes. He realised he was harder now in her presence than he had been at any point in the last decade, with or without assistance.

As quickly as it had begun, she drew away.

"I think the Brandy is going straight to my head," she said, and let out a small giggle. She reached past his body, bringing it tantalisingly close again, if only for a moment. She picked up a small sculpture of a panda from above. "Oh, this is so lovely too!"

He spent a few seconds processing what was going on before responding. His head was still swimming.

"Mmm," he said. "Yes, that one is... beautiful..."

His eyes were nowhere near the sculpture. He was staring up into her face, taking in her delicate features, the gold and blue in her eyes, the subtle curves of her body implied under her elegant clothing.

"It must have been very expensive. I could never dream of owning something like this. Where did you get it?"

"It was a gift," he began. It was a gift from his late wife, he almost said, but did not. She'd picked it up for him when she'd gone on holidays. He was too busy to go with her that year. He did like it, but the way she looked at it made him feel another urge. The urge to do things that would make her happy.

"Maybe it should be a gift again," he continued. You should take it."

"Oh no sir, surely not, this is far too much."

"No please, please. It's just going to waste sitting here in the home of an old man who owns far too much already. It's a beautiful piece. It should be with somebody beautiful."

She looked him straight in the eyes.

"Thank you, sir. You've made me very happy."

He felt warm and contented. He knew he'd made the right decision. She leaned in and kissed him gently on the cheek, and suddenly he was electrified again.

"You know, sir, that's one thing I really like about the older generations. They really know how to treat a lady right."

"Mmm..."

"The men my age, they're only after one thing, and it's disgusting. But not you. You know how to control yourself."

"Yeah," he said dreamily.

"You wouldn't dare put a hand on my body, force me against a wall and rip my clothes off."

As she spoke, he could feel her scent as much as smell it. He couldn't help but picturing what she was saying, and his dick started straining against his underwear even more.

"You would be far too restrained to force my legs apart, sir. You're such a gentleman. You'd treat me right. You wouldn't take hold of me, tease me, play with me until I was soaking wet, pressed up against the wall and unable to get away from you."

He was drooling at the thought.

"You wouldn't get me so turned on that I was begging you to take me. Begging you to stick your big hard cock inside of me. Making me yours, forever. Screaming your name in pleasure," she said. As she did, she gently bit his ear, and the unexpected touch set him over the edge.

He moaned, came in his pants, and passed out.

That was when he really started losing track of things. In the days that followed, it became more and more difficult to focus on things in his life. He did the bare minimum to keep things moving at his commitments, and only the ones he absolutely could not get out of. Every moment he spent not in the presence of Krista was becoming harder to bare. He daydreamed about her constantly.

When they went out for more dates, she would tease and cajole him. He started bringing her more beautiful things. At first, they were things she liked from his house - a painting, a jewellery box that also belonged to his wife - but soon he was going shopping and trying to find ways to impress her. She initially put up a protest about the lavish gifts, but that soon stopped. It was clear that she loved to receive them. In fact, she seemed almost aroused by it. She always leaned in to give him a chaste kiss. It was driving him wild, but it was the closest contact he could get from her.

After he dodged one phone call too many, Joseph tracked him down at his house.

"Arthur! What the hell is going on?"

Arthur sighed.

"I'm enjoying my life. How about you?"

"I'm told you're off cavorting with some twenty year old painted whore."

Arthur lit up.

"Don't you dare fucking call her that," he said. "Krista and I have been seeing each other but that's none of your business whatsoever."

"I'm sorry, I - I was out of line. I didn't know you were seeing anybody seriously. That was extremely disrespectful of me," said the lawyer.

Arthur started to calm down.

"I pay you a lot, Joe. And I value our friendship. But I need to take some time for myself. Can I trust you to handle things for me?"

Joseph nodded silently.

Over dinner that night, Krista had been embarrassed to admit that she was a virgin. She was saving herself for marriage. She was old fashioned, as she kept repeating.

Over dessert, she told him she had to leave for a while.

"I'm sorry, sir, but don't worry, I'll be back in a few weeks."

A few weeks? It was going to be an eternity. He offered to fly her anywhere she needed to go, to escort her there himself. But she insisted that it was something she had to do on her own. As a parting gift, she'd given him a small wooden box and told him to wait until she called him to open it.

The wait was torturous.

Five days later, when he was on the verge of falling apart completely, the call came.

"Hello, Mister Findley," came the voice of his angel.

"Oh god, Krista. I'm so glad to hear your voice. How are you?"

"I've missed you too, sir."

"How much longer until you get back?"

"A little while more, I'm sorry. Have you waited to open the box like I asked?"

"Yes. Still sealed shut. I've got it here with me."

"Good, very good. I want you to take the key and open it up now."

He opened it as she asked. His heart skipped when he saw red lace panties inside.

"Oh Krista..."

"I know I'm saving myself for marriage, but you can still have a little bit of fun, sir. I want you to hold it up to your face. I want you to breathe me in."

His hand shook as took it out of the box and lifted it to his face. He took a deep breath in, and immediately became lightheaded. It was her scent. It was incredible. All of his pent up anxiety disappeared.

"That's right, big, deep breaths. Mister Findley, I want you to take out your cock for me. Can you do that?"

"Uh huh..."

"Take out your cock and stroke it for me. But put the gift back in the box and set it aside, we wouldn't want it to all go to waste now would we?"

"Whatever you say..."

"Grip your cock, sir. I want you to imagine that it's me. I'm right there with you. It's my hand making you feel good, making you feel just the way you like."

And it was almost true. He could almost see it. His mind's eye obeyed her every command from the other end of the phone. He knew it wasn't quite real, but it might as well have been.

She stroked his cock while looking him deep in the eyes. She smiled that smile that occupied so many of his waking thoughts. She spoke gently to him, encouraging him, making him feel better than he had ever felt before.

"Wouldn't you like to feel this all the time? Wouldn't you like me to do so much more for you?"

"Yes... Yes please... I need you..."

"Yes, you do need me. And you could have me... You could have my tight, virgin pussy all to yourself..."

She stroked faster and harder. He drew nearer and nearer to his climax. She whispered in his ear.

"That's right, Mister Findley, feeling so good. I make you feel so good."

Suddenly, she stopped.

"But I don't want you come right now. Maybe next time."

As she hung up, he felt a mixture of exhilaration and the bluest balls he had ever experienced.

She didn't call back the next day. Or the next. Arthur eventually caved in to the temptation to open the box. Just one smell. To tide him over.

He glanced at the panties. They were red, almost the exact shade as her lips the last time he'd seen her in person. He wondered if she was wearing them at the time, if she'd stuffed them straight in the box during a trip to the bathroom. The idea of sniffing panties was a strange one to him - he'd never really gotten the appeal. But things were different with Krista. Everything was. He held them up close to his face and inhaled as deeply as he possibly could.

It was a little weaker than last time, but it was still delightful. It overwhelmed him and he started stroking himself. He put it back in the box awkwardly with one hand and imagined that she was laying on top of him. She was just looking down at him, smiling approvingly as he jerked himself off. This time, the imaginary woman nodded as he silently asked her if he was allowed to come.

By the evening, it was obvious that it hadn't stifled his desires, if anything it had made them worse.

When she didn't call the following day, he called an escort service.

He got the girl to climb on top of him with most of her clothes still on, and act out the scenes he'd been imagining. Considering what he was paying, she was more than happy to oblige. She sat on top of him in the dim light of the hotel room, and he could almost see Krista in her face. When he reached out for the box and grabbed the panties, she looked a little curious, but knew better than interrupt.

He started by rubbing himself, but she took over and he didn't object. He was focused on maintaining the illusion, and he couldn't say no to her. After a few minutes, she mounted him and started bouncing up and down slowly. The scent made it so easy to imagine that she was her.

With one hand pressing the lingerie into his face, he screamed Krista's name as he came. As he basked in the feeling, he imagined what it would be like to get more than this. You could have me... her voice said inside his head. You could have my tight, virgin pussy.

There was just something he had to do before he could have it. Before he could have it all to himself.

He repeated this pattern for a few more days. He made sure to get the same escort each time, and she took to the role perfectly. He even started bringing little gifts, and paying her more and more on top of what he promised. There was something about the act of paying tribute to his effigy of her that was deeply comforting.

Despite this, the scent was clearly fading with each passing day, and the encounters became less and less satisfying. Then, Krista finally sent him the message. She was back.

Arthur was torn. He knew what he needed so badly, but he was still struggling with the idea. Back at his house, he slid out a storage box he kept under his bed and opened it up. It didn't take long to find what he was looking for. He opened that original little box that contained the ring he'd given his wife, all those years ago. It was a small stone, but it was also a family heirloom. Adrienne had cried when he proposed to her, and as he stood there holding it again, he cried too.

Then, he thought about Krista again. He could be happy with her - happier than he could ever remember being in his life. He'd promised himself he'd never get married again. He told people it was pragmatic, but the truth was, he hadn't been ready to move on with his life. Now, finally, he felt like he was. He put the ring back inside its little box and prepared to meet her.

He didn't want to just send a car to summon her. He couldn't wait that long. He drove himself to where she was arriving.

"Oh my god, I missed you so much Krista," he said. He reached in for a hug, which she granted him. Her hands lingered on his body as they separated.

"I missed you too, sir."

They stared into each other's eyes, and he felt it once again. That scent. That overwhelming feeling of lust. If she'd spoken the words he would have dropped to his knees and worshipped her right there in the street.

"Krista... I've been thinking..."

"Oh, what's that, sir?"

"I can't... I can't stand to be away from you. And I can't imagine the idea of living my life without you from now on. I... I know you're a respectable woman - old fashioned, and I'm going to do things right by you."

He opened up the small box.

"Krista Olsson, will you marry me?"

She smiled wickedly.

"Oh Mister Findley. I thought you'd never ask."

* * *

Krista Olsson sipped a fruity cocktail that her future husband had prepared for her. She played with her fingers on the bench she was seated at, admiring the stone now adorning her finger. It was small, but she assumed that if he'd given to her, it was probably worth a lot.

"Do we have to talk about things like this right now?" she said.

"There won't be any time later. Joe's always had a good head about this sort of thing, and he's right. It's important that we sort out all the details so nothing stands in our way."

When he'd started talking about his lawyer this morning, she knew it was going to be a problem.

"It sounds like he's the one standing in our way," she said. Arthur looked pained. "What kind of document is this anyway?"

She knew very well what kind of document it was. Any good lawyer on retainer for somebody this wealthy probably had a pro forma on file for exactly this kind of situation. She was asking because she wanted to make him squirm.

He took an inordinately long time to answer her question, and when he finally spoke, he struggled not to trip over his words.

"It's just an, er, well it's an agreement. A sort of statement of intent."

"Intent? About what, my love?"

"Well... it's about what we would do in certain future contingencies. It's all quite standard, I assure you." His face was turning redder.

She did her best shocked look.

"You mean it's some sort of prenup?"

He fell silent. Krista had never mastered the art of crying on demand, so instead she turned her eyes down to the ground and went for "sad but stoic".

"I understand. You have to take care of yourself. I mean what would people think? They see somebody like me and they just think I'm..."

Arthur closed his arms around her.

"No, no, it's not like that. I know that what we have is real. Realer than anything I've felt in a long time. But Joe just likes to do things proper, you know? He doesn't know your heart, not like I do.

At that moment, she looked up into his eyes.

"You do trust me, don't you sir?"

She tensed up in anticipation. As soon as the moment felt right, she relaxed, and let it all out. The reaction from Arthur was immediate and obvious. His muscles relaxed. He looked like he was about to fall over. She hadn't dosed anybody this regularly and heavily for a long time.

"Yes..."

He looked into her eyes. She'd noticed that he seemed to have a fixation on them during their first encounter. She liked it. He wasn't just another man who couldn't take his eyes off her tits - although the end result was the same. Here he was, unable to look away, cock hard and mind wide open.

"Yes what, sir?"

"Yes, I trust you," he said, nodding.

"I'm so glad to hear it. But I understand. We can wait until your lawyer brings those documents, and I'll sign them, but... it's just, it's such a shame, sir. I just us to be married so badly. I need you, sir. I need you inside of me."

She hiked up her skirt, revealing to him that she wasn't wearing anything underneath it. He stared at her exposed pussy.

"Don't you want to get married, too? Then we can be together..."

She let out a second dose for good measure. Arthur gasped as it washed over him.

"Yes, god, I want to marry you so fucking badly," he said.

She left his embrace and stood. She leaned over the bar and exposed herself to him. He stood, entranced by her lips as she swayed her hips side to side.

"Fuck the prenup," he finally said.

She smiled from ear to ear.

"Oh sir, do you really mean that?"

"Yes! Fuck the Prenup, fuck Joe. I'm going to call up the celebrant and see if she can come down immediately. God I need you so fucking bad."

She turned just in time to catch him launching himself at her. She kissed him - chastely, and without tongue.

"Oh sir, please hurry."

Men, she thought. The most absurd of god's creatures.

She laughed to herself quietly as he staggered out the door towards the car like a drunken idiot.

Perhaps she'd overdone it slightly, but she was done playing around. She was going to get her hands on that fortune, and she was getting tired of waiting.

When he hadn't returned after two hours, she tried to call him and ask him what the hell was taking so long. When a member of the police answered his phone instead, it dawned on her that something had gone horribly wrong.