I Need a Husband

He laughed and motioned for me to stand up and turn back to face him. I started to wonder what he would do next.

I turned and hoisted my skirt to the waist, still standing with my legs half a metre apart.

The phone went.

'Hello darling. Yes, you have come straight through to me. My new PA is off on an errand for me.'

A worried look crossed his face, followed by a pleading one as he put his finger to his lips for silence.

I noticed that they were sticky and shiny. They were the ones that had been up my vagina.

I stayed quiet. He knew I could have dropped him in it and gave me a grateful smile. He was not nearly as dominant with his wife as he was with me.

'Yes, no, I had not forgotten that we were at the Von Kreigs for dinner, but I am running a little late. Yes, okay I will leave any minute now.'

He put the phone down and looked every bit the harassed husband.

'I have to leave now,' he almost apologised to me.

I must admit I could have done with a good fucking. I would have to go home and play with myself. I had no date tonight.

I actually realised that I was enjoying the company of this pervy old man. Well maybe not that old maybe, but definitely pervy.

He was as fickle as the weather. Some days I would show him my underwear and it was as if I didn't exist. Other days he would get me to remove either my bra or panties or sometimes both.

On the Thursday I had a game of squash arranged.

'Mr Knowles,' I murmured coyly, before raising my skirt to show him my panties. 'Could I have an extra half hour lunch today to play squash please?'

I raised my skirt to show him a thick pair of white cotton sports briefs.

'Yes please,' he said. 'I mean that will be fine. Come straight back here afterwards will you, I may have an errand for you.

I knew what he wanted and smiled.

'Yes Mr Knowles, I am playing from one to two, I can be back by two fifteen if that will suit you? Maybe I can shower in the toilets later?'

'You can use my private shower in the executive washrooms,' he said. And turned to business.

I don't know what my opponent thought when I made my excuses and left without showering. She had beaten me quite comfortably and made me do a lot of running around. What with the sweat and the anticipation of a sexy afternoon my gusset was running. I knew if my mind had been on the squash I would have played better. I might even have beaten her. I kept seeing her little white knickers every time she bent over to retrieve the ball. All I could think about was how wet mine were getting. I agreed to play again the following Thursday. I knew I would have no problem getting the time off.

I stood at my desk and flipped the intercom.

'Ahhh Miss Foxall, can you come into my office please.'

I just hoped he was on his own.

He was.

'Come over here. Stand beside me. That's right. Now just raise your skirt slowly to the waist.'

I very, very, slowly inched my short, pleated skirt up my thighs. It wasn't long enough to take long but I enjoyed watching him salivate. He was literally licking his lips, his eyes intently focussed on my moving hem line.

Tentatively he gently touched my knee with his fingers. He slowly grazed his way up my thigh until his fingers hovered between my legs within an inch of my panties. I almost screamed when at last, he touched me. I really needed to come. My mind was playing sexy games but my body wasn't. Yet.

He thrust his fingers between my legs and gripped the gusset of my panties so hard that they leaked moisture all over his fingers. He sniffed and then licked them before inserting them between my legs again, this time under my panties. I squirmed as his fingers wriggled between my sopping lips. His other hand snaked round behind me as if to pull my bum towards him.

'Take them off.' he breathed. 'Bend over the desk.'

I knew I was going to get fucked. I hoped it was not going to be in the arse. As enjoyable as that is I wanted his cock nudging my g-spot at this moment in time. I quickly slipped off and lowered myself, prone over the desk, my clit rubbing against the edge. Almost behind me, I saw him pick up my knickers, bury his face in them and take a few deep breaths. I was a little surprised when instead of dropping his trousers and ramming into me he buried his nose and mouth in my crack.

It was wonderful. His moustache tickled, I almost laughed to think what it must smell like. He licked and licked, from my clit to my arsehole and back again. He practically buried his nose inches deep into my bum-hole. I started to come. I just needed him to fuck me. The first touch and I would start to come. I heard him drop his trousers and as he moved forward I felt him ejaculate all over my bottom. I practically screamed with frustration.

'Ooooh, thank you Miss Foxall. That will be all for the time being.'

I hadn't got the words inside me with which to make my feelings clear. I jumped to my feet and if looks could kill he would have dropped dead on the spot. I spun about and slammed his door. Returning to my desk I was practically crying with frustration and pent up-rage now.

It was two forty-five. I threw open his door to see him lying back in his chair with his eyes closed and my panties draped over his nose and mouth. With all the sarcasm I could muster I said 'Goodnight Mr. Knowles. I am going home. I may be back in the morning.'

Chapter 3

Well, I did go back of course. I hadn't even started to milk the situation I found myself in and, more importantly, I had achieved a couple of fantastic orgasms in the shower and on the bed at home with one of my vibrators.

This had put me in a much better mood and a couple of drinks in a wine bar later with an old friend had sealed the feeling. I was back in control. I think that while a lot of the frustration was caused by needing the physical sex when it had appeared to be about to be offered, it was no doubt true that I felt used and abused because he didn't appear to want to fuck me.

That hurt.

I rationalised it by accepting that this way he could perhaps tell his wife that he was completely faithful.

Yeah right. Like eating isn't cheating.

Still there I was next morning with a sunny smile and no knickers.

'Good morning, Mr Knowles. I would like to apologise for my early departure yesterday afternoon. I wasn't feeling very well, I am afraid. As you can see, I am much better this morning.'

I slowly raised my hem above my crotch.

'I will however understand if you feel that I should be, perhaps, well, er, chastised, this evening before I go home. Perhaps made to write one hundred lines, 'I must not get frustrated if I do not understand all the work I am given.' That might be suitable, or maybe you could think of some other form of punishment?'

A long slow beam had transfigured his face from solemn and maybe a little apprehensive. Just like the rising of the sun over the horizon transforms night into glowing morning. Another lovely day.

'Delighted that you are feeling better Miss Foxall. I was worried that you would do something rash. Please in return accept my apologies if in any way I am not the perfect boss. I aim to please but perhaps also need some correction from time to time.'

The rash of innuendoes came thick and fast. I wondered whether he wanted me to beat him perhaps. That might be fun, I thought.

This was one day that passed quickly. While I have given the impression that we never did any work, from time to time the Private Equity group that he ran was incredibly busy and this was one such day.

We were so busy that he almost forgot about the punishment due to me. I know that I hadn't. Even while preparing documents frantically I was squirming about in my seat anticipating the evening's entertainment. I was not altogether surprised therefore when he asked me if I could work a little overtime, say until seven o'clock.

I heard him explaining this to his wife as well. He sounded so plausible I thought for a minute that I may even have some more document preparation to do.

After receiving what I suspect was a tongue-lashing from her he agreed to meet her in the River Room restaurant at seven thirty. I had never been there and was determined that soon this would change. I wondered whether it was the sort of place you took your wives but not your mistress? I would find out.

I got the call at about six.

'Miss Foxall. Have you just about finished for the night?'

'Yes Sir, I think I have finished everything I can do out here,' I lisped.

Licking my lips I continued in a little girly voice that I knew he liked.

'I have tried to be ever so good today. You know, to make up for being so bad yesterday.'

He took the hint.

'Yes, about yesterday. Come into my room young lady. Close and lock the door behind you.'

I did as he had asked and stood demurely by his desk.

He opened his drawer and pulled out a plastic ruler about thirty centimetres long. He slapped it down on the leather of his desk a couple of times.

My heart missed a couple of beats I am sure. I started to get even moister. My lips need licking. They all did.

I hoped the rulers bark was going to be worse than its bite.

'Take off your blouse Miss Foxall. You have been a very bad girl. That was a disgracefully petulant demeanour you displayed last night. I hope that you will remember this in due course?'

I expected to be laid over the desk and started to raise my skirt in anticipation.

'Who told you to move my girl? Stand upright. Hands clenched behind your back. Stick those insignificant lumps of flesh that you call breasts out so that I might see them better. Come on, you can push them out more than that.'

I was so busy pushing my magnificent pair right out that I was shocked to feel the ruler land from an open-handed slap on my left breast, followed rapidly by a backhanded blow to my right one. Crying out in agony made me realise why he wanted the door closed and locked.

I grabbed one in each hand to massage away the pain.

A flurry of blows landed upon the backs of my hands.

'Who told you that you could move your hands? Put them back behind your back. This instant.'

I did. I held my smarting hands together, wringing them behind me. The smarting was still not nearly as bad as the pain creeping out from the two red stripes, one on each breast.

He no more than flicked the ruler flat onto each nipple and I jumped like a scalded cat. I kept my hands behind me though.

'Good girl. You will get to appreciate a good punishment in due course.'

I remember wondering how often he caned his wife's nipples. Unfortunately the thought brought a smile to my face and further treatment, now on the insides of my poor mounds.

Eventually stripes were visible above, below and on either side of the nipples. The nipples themselves were rock hard, rampant and crimson red where they had been slapped after each stripe was applied.

Eventually he stopped and applied himself to my bum. I had been manhandled over the desk and my skirt raised over my back.

He only gave me two hard slaps before I started to come.

I held on firmly to the other side of his desk. I rubbed my clit along the edge and this, and the beating, was enough to make me orgasm.

Seeing this he quickly dropped the ruler and ejaculated over my bottom and the inside of my skirt.

Ever the gentleman he lent me his handkerchief to wipe away his spunk.

It was an orgasm, but really, not as good as a fuck. I was beginning to get a little frustrated probably because I also didn't have a regular boyfriend.

I had to do something about that. Go out more? Try internet dating?

I thought about these ideas on the way home, while still musing about the unfairness of being a mistress, compared to a wife.

She was in the River Room, I was on my way home for a take-away. Let's face it I am not really a proper mistress.

Money also came into my thoughts. To meet the right guy I had to be in the right places. To go to the right places meant having more money than I had then. While I was receiving quite a good salary as a secretary P A, I was no way being compensated for my extra-mural activities.

I came up with a plan and the next day turned up to work in a decidedly cheap skirt and blouse.

I brought in his first cup of coffee, raised my skirt to the waist and waited.

I had given quite a lot of thought to my panties. He might not notice my skirt but he would certainly notice them.

I had decided eventually on an old greying cotton pair that were stuck now in the back of the drawer. Comfortable ones I used to wear under jodhpurs, but not my old school ones. He might just have liked those. I didn't even own the ideal Bridget Jones big panties, so these would have to do.

It took him a moment or two to make me turn around.

'Oh I think you need to take those off,' he said. 'They are really quite grey and unattractive. Not your normal style at all.'

That was the opportunity I needed.

'Well, all this new underwear I have needed has cost me a fortune. A lot of costs are unavoidable as part of being the PA to an important city executive. Those suits are expensive, five hundred pounds a time and I have to have them dry cleaned practically every time I use them to get the semen stains out.'

This brought into play the main angle of attack.

'If you want me to continue to play games where my clothes get so dirty I am going to need a rise. Quite a big one. After all we don't want other people in the office, or our families commenting and asking questions about the state of my clothes. Do we?'

I was hoping that I had not over-egged the situation.

I licked my lips and started to undo my blouse. I needed him to start thinking with his cock again.

He quickly cottoned on to my line of thinking.

'Quite right Miss Foxall. We particularly wouldn't want our families to be involved say, in any, er,... discussions.'

'No Mr. Knowles. Absolutely not.'

'Now let's think. I only have the ability to put your salary up to the maximum of the Banks scheme for P As and that would be just under twice as much as you are earning now. How would that be?'

In for a penny, in for a pound I thought.

I didn't speak merely unhooked my bra and played with my tits.

'But, I do have more discretion when it comes to our six monthly bonuses.'

This was more like it.

'Shall we say fifty thousand per year in two instalments?'

'If I was really naughty, could we say fifty thousand for each instalment?' I whispered, holding up my skirt and slipping two fingers into my pussy.

'Harrumph. Well for that sort of money you would have to be really naughty, I mean really co-operative. I mean do more challenging work than you are now.'

I leant back on his desk opening myself up for him.

'For that sort of money I could be very helpful with some of your clients.'

I thought I had gone too far when he said, 'For god's sake woman. If I want to buy a client a hooker I will do, and for far cheaper than that. No, you misunderstand me. I will need you to get involved more with the private equity business. Our little games will stay strictly between us.'

I decided that not only was this the very best deal that I was going to get from him, it also was really a great step forward in a career.

I rushed over and thanked him with a big kiss on the cheek and a hug. The first real sign of affection either of us had ever shown.

'Arthur. Oh thank you. That is truly wonderful. You will see I will not let you down. I understand most of the papers that I have been typing up and I am sure I can be of help in the business.'

So there it was. A really good salary and a year later there I was one hundred thousand better off with a couple of bonuses under the belt. And, guess what. I really was good at the job. I started going to meetings and just taking notes. Within a few months I was going to meetings on my own if Arthur felt that he would have to make a tricky, on-the-spot, decision. I was able to give him the time to think about the proposals and discuss them a little more with the board.

And he let me call him Arthur if the two of us were alone. That was almost as good as the fact that I had a title, Manager, and Business Cards. I felt I was on a roll.

He still called me Miss Foxall however, even though I had, on a couple of occasions, said to him that he could certainly call me Frankie, or even Francesca, if he wanted. Let's face it he could have called me whatever he wanted for that money.

But no.

I am sure that the words 'Miss Foxall' excited him almost as much as seeing my bare bum or bare tits.

Certainly the punishment was unabated. I was almost permanently striped, either on the bum or thighs or tits.

If I had a hot date, and they were rare items, I would ask him for a few days respite, and think up other games to keep him happy.

Blow jobs were popular but on the one occasion I tried to tie him up and beat him I was quickly put in my place and the hot date had to be postponed. I was striped everywhere. I had been wrong when I thought earlier that he might have liked a little punishment returned.

Anyhow I reckoned I was earning my money. It was however the best job I could possibly have. It suited me down to the ground. Lots of money, some responsibility and loads of kinky sex.

I didn't even really miss the fact that I had no regular boyfriend. The excitement that I got at work made me very relaxed about extra- curricular sex.

But then I met Perry.

Chapter 4

Perry the Nerd, I think was the way I used to talk about him.

We were after buying his business. He had set up a very, very, profitable holiday villa, slash second home, multi-user, fee paying, user friendly, data-base.

It basically ran itself and owners and renters paid a fee electronically which Perry banked.

It was basically marketed organically, which meant it wasn't really marketed at all, and our Private Equity Group believed that by buying it, restructuring it and marketing it properly we could make a lot of money from it.

We would employ the Nerd as a consultant until it was up and running our way and then put in our own management.

Peregrine Farquhar would then retire into the sunset with loads of money.

We would bank a few million and move on to the next deal.

That was the theory.

Perry may have looked, or more exactly dressed, like a nerd but he wasn't stupid. He knew it was worth a bit of money and our first offer of a million didn't exactly thrill him.

At that stage we sent in the shock troops.

Me.

My brief was to be nice to him and see how cheaply we could get the business.

The first couple of meetings were in his office, basically the spare bedroom of his two-bedroom apartment.

I always wondered whether he knew that I couldn't concentrate on business in a bedroom!

The second couple of meetings were in a restaurant down the road. I had feigned hunger due to a missed lunch at one of the meetings and asked whether he would accompany me to the restaurant as I did not like eating alone.

He was truly gallant, opening doors, standing if I left the table, and even paying the bill.

I found myself liking him and looking at him in a different light.

I think he liked me too. At least he was quick to accept when I tentatively asked if he would like to go out on a Saturday night.

My treat I said. I happen to know my boss has a booking at the Ivy he is not going to use. It would be a shame to waste it.

He leaped all over me like a rash. He would be delighted to go out with me. He had always wanted to go there. He had heard so much about it.

He then, without any prompting, asked if his current ensemble, a pair of shooting style moleskin trousers and a thick Arran sweater would be suitable. I am sure that if he knew the right people to actually go shooting, they would have actually smelt of dead birds. He really did have no idea how to dress.