Isabel's Obsession

The attractive assistant continued to leaf through the pictures. "Oh, but you must! You must wear stockings, they are so sexy, and your man will love them. Did he take these pictures, they are very good, so, so erotic? But there are none of you here?"

"No, they were done by my photographer....that is..."

"Ah, I see, you want to have some boudoir photos taken for your fella. I have thought of doing the same, but didn't know of a photographer, can you recommend yours?"

"Paul is great, you feel comfortable with him even though you are naked.....erm.."

"Oh great! Can I have his number? I might then be able to sort you out a discount on what you buy today."

Isabel was somewhat trapped, and in a bit of a daze, passed the assistant, Paul's number. There was a little tinge of jealousy, that this very beautiful woman was interested in having Paul take pictures of her, in sexy lingerie. "Don't call him immediately though, let me have time to tell him that I passed over his number. What is your full name Amanda?" Isabel read off of the badge on the assistants left breast.

"Cunningham, Amanda Cunningham."

"Ok, I'll let him know, now what were you saying about wearing stockings? I thought they were a little bit old fashioned really?"

"No, not at all, many young women are wearing them. Suspenders are maybe a bit old hat, but my boyfriend says he likes the way they frame a woman's.... privates."

Isabel smiled. "Really? So, you wear them then?"

Amanda lifted up her skirt by the hem and revealed to Isabel that she was wearing some now. The move surprised Isabel and the tingle within her loins, became molten hot. The dark elasticated band of the hold-up stocking was stunning in its decoration. "Yes, I love the power it gives me over my boyfriend and the fact that they make me feel very sexy. If you wear them at your photo shoots, your photographer friend will not be able to keep his hands off you, particularly if you are wearing silk ones, they feel lush! So, you had better take your partner along, or there could be trouble!" Amanda laughed, but with Isabel it hit a very real nerve.

"There seem to be so many types to choose from, we had better get started."

It was some hours later that Isabel let herself in the front door and was immediately greeted by the sounds of banging. She smiled, happy that Paul was still there, and that he hadn't run off back home. She went into the kitchen and found that he was not where she expected him to be. He was over by the boiler, which appeared to be somewhat in pieces. "Hi, I'm back. Are you all done then, it looks like the sink is all back and looking very tidy? And the doors fit properly! Oh Paul, thank you. They haven't fitted properly for ages."

"Yes, all done. The doors just needed adjusting, that was the easy bit. Bad news is, when I was trying out the hot water, I could see that your boiler was not working properly. When was the last time it was serviced? It should be once a year at least?"

"Oh, I would say not in the last five years. Certainly not since I have been here. Is it bad?"

"That explains it. How often do you have issues with the hot water?"

"About once or twice a week. But it seems to sort itself out. Look, I don't want you working on that. I'll get someone in if it needs it. Now, you are all dirty, why don't you get a shower, while I do some food." She would rather he didn't get a shower, as she found the ruggedness of how he looked was doing something to her loins again, so turned to get out the food she had bought.

"Yes, if I started on the boiler now, that would be another few hours, and I would probably need some specialist bits too. I'll put it back together and then nip next door and clean up."

"I would offer our shower Paul, but that is leaking and the pressure is rubbish on it. And no, before you ask, that is not another job I need doing! Oh Paul, your shirt is filthy. I'm so sorry. But you have done such a good job, and no mess either, not like that last lot of cowboys we had in. They just take Philip for a ride."

"Do they take you for a ride too?"

Paul's innuendo hit home straight away with Isabel, making her flush and her left leg for some reason, started to quiver. "No, I haven't been taken for a ride in a while Paul," she found herself saying. Biting her lip to stop herself saying something she could not take back.

Paul seemed to ignore what she had said. "Doing a good job is part of my family's motto. 'Do a good job, if it is worth doing.'"

"Well, I can see that you have lived up to that motto so far."

"Uh huh, had no complaints, a few moans and groans, but no complaints."

The joke went over Izzy's head. "Well let me wash the shirt at least?"

"Nope, the washing machine will do that very well thank you. When do you want me back?"

"Come as soon as you are ready."

"Will do, wet and dripping!"

"Oh, I gave your number to the assistant at the lingerie shop. She said she wanted some boudoir shots done too. I hope you don't mind? Her name is Amanda Cunningham."

"Don't mind at all, it is all about networking isn't it. See you in a bit."

He left her at the sink, thinking about him coming, his cock wet and dripping from having been inside her and as those thoughts permeated through her brain, so her orgasm permeated through her body. The lip of the sink was the perfect height on which to rub her protruding pubic mound upon. Not that she needed the added stimulus, because she was coming either way, it had been an intensely, sexually invigorating day and she needed the release. Something she was finding was becoming more numerous as were her meetings with Paul. She had already had more orgasms in one day, than in several months.

Gripping onto the sink, pushing her pubis against it, was not enough, she wanted more. Tearing at the buttons on her dress in her passion, she quickly slipped her hand into her sheer panties, over the soft downy pubic hair that covered the mound of her pubic bone. Her index finger took the lead in parting the puffy labia and slipped easily into the well lubricated cleft. The fingers either side of the index finger, parted her flesh further and gave her unmitigated access to the dribbling, puckered sphincter of her vaginal entrance. Satisfyingly, her three fingers slid in.

Unsurprisingly, until today, Isabel had never masturbated. She had never considered it. Touching herself in any way sexually, would have in the past been abhorrent to her. All of her sexual fulfilment, if you could call it fulfilling, was at the hands of her partner. But these last few days, and her growing lust for her neighbour, had changed her entire body's needs. She was realising that she had probably not had any proper orgasms with Philip, that most of their sex was simply a release for him. That she was beginning to understand her own needs and they seemed to be taking her over; her fingers explored her vagina, with an interest sparked by desire.

Her fingers curled instinctively inside her and touched upon her 'G spot'. Until that point, she had not known she even had one. The sensation was staggering and her legs nearly folded beneath her. She stumbled backwards, falling over the arm of one of the comfy chairs that was there. Her breathing was erratic and her chest rose and fell, frantically trying to recover some oxygen. Her senses were at the point of overload, flashes of white, exploded in her brain and she very nearly passed out. Her ears seemed only to be able to pick up one sound, and that was the slurping, wet, sexual sound of her fingers as they slipped in and out of her. The glistening wet gusset of her panties leaving a wet trail of her juices on the back of her hand.

Her orgasm had passed, leaving her whimpering and crying out in pleasure and frustration. She had always thought of those that played with themselves to be rather base creatures, or men. It was a dirty past time. And something she thought was propagated by porn films. She now realised her naivety on the subject, and knew that no matter how she felt about it, her body was dictating what would happen from now on. That thought was both frightening and releasing.

Slipping a silk-stocking covered leg, over one arm of the chair. She ran her free hand slowly from her knee to her upper thigh, stopping at the stocking top and admiring the beautiful lace-work. The shop assistant had been right, she did find the silk against her skin a complete turn on. She did, like to touch it, and feel the material rasp between her legs as she moved. Casting an eye upon her revealed thigh now, she was annoyed that Paul had not paid any attention to her legs, not seeming to notice that she was now wearing stockings. Wearing them specifically for him. She put that down to her choice of wearing a skin-coloured stocking, rather than, say black ones. The matching pale white suspender belt, that came with her new panties and bra, felt a little strange, but she liked the feeling of erotica, that it gave her, and she was determined to show Paul, one way or another, what she was wearing, for him.

With her free hand, she pulled her panties completely clear of her pussy, so that she could see her fingers as they tormented her pussy. Rather than viewing her vagina as a necessary evil, she now understood the power that she held at the junction of her thighs. The power over men, the power it gave herself, the power of pleasure. As she continued to view her fingers in their play, she wondered why she had never done this before? Her juices were flowing copiously about her prying digits as they noisily entered her vagina. Her head fell back against the seat and her thoughts were of Paul's fingers doing this to her, or better still, his fat cock, stretching her wide as he penetrated her.

These thoughts had her rising to the peak of another orgasm. She found herself crying out, "Yes, yes, yes, do it, play with me Paul, do me with your lovely big.....cock!" The word still sounded foreign to her, having rarely used it in this context, but the impact was electrifying as Isabel would never have before, vocalised her sexual gratification. But her complete abandonment in the moment, was now upon her.

Rolling her head to one side, she saw one of Philip's empty bottles of wine and could think of nothing, other than how the very phallic-like shape, would feel inside her? It would certainly reach deeper inside her than her fingers?

Pulling out her wet digits and releasing her panties, she made a grab for the bottle. Her slippery fingers quickly coated the neck with her lubricant and as she positioned the bottle before her, pondering on what she was about to do, her wet fingers left more marks about the base.

Isabel brought the thin neck of the bottle towards her, brushing her coral folds as she rubbed her clitoris, visualising how far inside her this glass pseudo cock would go. 'Could she, do it?' She thought, 'it is so wrong, isn't it?' She then splayed her lips with her left hand and slipped the neck down towards her vaginal entrance. With little pressure upon her vaginal sphincter, the head of the bottle slipped easily inside her. She squealed at the touch of the cold glass upon her red-hot insides, the pleasure increasing as she pushed the phallic object deeper and deeper, completing the penetration of herself. Six inches inside her, the bottle neck began to splay out and widen, Isabel stopped, thinking she could take no more. Already she had taken more than the two or three inches her partner could give her, and even then, he never felt this hard or full inside.

Placing her other leg over the other chair arm, she was now spreadeagled. She closed her eyes and accepted the punishment that her hands were delivery to her pussy. The bottle slid in and out of her effortlessly. She felt no shame, no remorse or disgust in herself; all her thoughts were about enjoying what she was doing. Isabel had crossed a number of lines today, putting a foreign object in her pussy for the sole purpose of bringing herself off, was just another. There was no finesse in what she was doing, this was just primal lust. Lust for having something between her legs, lust for being penetrated, lust for a pleasure recently discovered, and lust for a certain man and his throbbing cock. She needed it, she needed it now.

Isabel had lost all track of time. Her stocking covered legs spread wide, a wine bottle slipping noisily in and out of her vagina. Her wet panties, pushed to one side and her dress, undone to just below her breasts. She was in complete abandonment and a more erotic sight you would not find, as once again another orgasm quickly approached.

Certainly, that is what Paul felt, as he looked in through the backdoor window, that he was just about to knock upon. As he watched, it was as if Isabel had positioned herself, just for him. So, he raised his camera to his eye, removing the lens-cap and started to take shot after shot, plus some video, of Izzy and her self-defilement. He had brought the camera along to take some shots of her wearing her lingerie in comfortable surroundings, hoping that she would relax a little more. He concluded that taking pictures of what she was doing now amounted to the same thing? 'She must have known that he was due to turn up at any moment? Was he meant to see this display?'

Isabel shut her eyes tighter. It was easy for her to fantasise that what was parting her lips and pushing deeply inside her, was Paul's large pulsing cock. She had never made love out of the confines of her bedroom, nor the bed for that matter. And had certainly not thought of sex with another man, other than her partner, up until four or so months ago, when her fantasies about Paul had started. Now, that was all she could think about. Everything that she was now doing to herself was unchartered territory. It felt so wrong, that her imminent orgasmic delight was tripled in its pleasure. She came fast, violently and explosively. She cried out Paul's name over and over, telling him to stop one minute and to fuck her hard the next. The effect of her bottle fucking was long lasting, the orgasm wracking her entire body in its execution. Her hips thrusting forwards in the simulation of copulation. Her juices flooded her dress, and still she fucked her pussy, still she cried out, and still Paul filmed all.

When she had put her dripping wet fingers into her mouth, she couldn't tell, but the taste of her juices, suddenly permeated through to her senses, her sucking became feverish, as she lost control, completing the tumultuous end, of a physically draining orgasm. Her sexual self-gratification was over. For Isabel, she knew that this orgasm was better than her last, and was definitely the best orgasm of her pitifully frugal sex life.

Despite taking pictures through the backdoor, Paul's focus was precise, his professionalism would not allow otherwise. Though his hard-on was extremely distracting. As he watched Isabel remove her wine bottle dildo and set it on the table, allowing herself to calm. He pulled away from the window, just in case she looked his way.

Isabel stood on rather wobbly legs, her dress fell back around her, but not before Paul saw the full extent of her rather lovely lingerie. Izzy straightened her panties. Although they were visibly wet, she knew she had no time to change them. She lent forwards and set straight her stockings, making sure the straps we taut, at the front and then brushed her dress to one side to reveal her complete leg, as she tackled the rear-most strap. Of course, Paul took shots of this very erotic act too.

Isabel then hastily did up her dress, looking to the door a couple of times, now very aware that Paul could arrive at any time. She looked at the kitchen clock and realised that her self-absorption had taken over twenty minutes. What she didn't know was that Paul's shower had only taken ten, and that he was waiting patiently, watching her, ready to make his move.

As she moved to the sink, to wash her hands of her own lubrication, Paul knocked on the door and entered. He had given her just enough time to sort herself out, and mores the point, enough to get himself back under control. He was now in a very teasing position. He had never before witnessed something so secretive, so erotic, that he had to know more. He had heard Izzy cry out his name, he was not stupid, and had seen how often she looked at him, in what one would call, for a married woman; an inappropriate way. But Paul wanted to know what she wanted of him, and decided to prise this information from her.

He sat upon the arm of the very chair she had just vacated. It still felt warm upon his bare legs. His loose-fitting shorts were quite high on the leg. He put the bottle of wine he had brought, onto the table, beside the one she had left there; and placed his camera beside that. "I thought I would bring some wine over, but I can see that you have just had some?"

Isabel flushed completely. Her body screamed at her internally, chastising herself for not moving the bottle away first. It was very easy to see her wet fingerprints about its surface, and more embarrassing still, was the very obvious 'tide-mark' upon the neck, showing exactly the depth to which, the bottle had been inserted inside her vagina. Paul had his fingers about the base of the bottle and casually turned it around.

Isabel was almost beside herself with guilt and in a broken voice said, "Let me take that Paul, it has been opened for a while and is probably not as good as yours would be?"

"Yes," said Paul, picking up the bottle as if to study the label. I can see that it has already been enjoyed, for it is empty. Did it succeed in pleasing?"

Izzy's mouth dropped open, surely Paul could not have known? It was obvious to her what the marks on the bottle represented, because she knew what she had done with it, but surely, he couldn't know? "Ermmm, I...."

"How was it.....for you......on your palette I mean?"

Isabel was visibly shaking as she stood before him. In her naivety, she thought Paul would not guess what she had just, these last few minutes, finished. But her body had given away all of the signs to the experienced man. Not that he was unaware anyway, having seen the complete act. She reached forwards to grasp the neck of the bottle, but Paul pulled it away. "Let me have a taste first, to see if mine is up to the task?"

Isabel was shocked and burst out "NO! Sorry, no Paul, I'm sure yours is better, you have no need to taste that one."

But Paul brought the neck up to his nose. "A strange bouquet? Yes, I can definitely say I have not smelled the like before, obviously very unique. One would say a one off maybe?"

Isabel watched completely immobile, unable to prevent what was unfolding before her as she witnessed Paul putting his little finger into the neck of the bottle and collecting what must be her juices onto it, he popped it into his mouth.

"Now, that is indeed something to savour. There is a familiarity, and at the same time a distinctive singularity. I can see now how this bottle must have appealed to you."

Izzy was roasting in her complete embarrassment. Her face was fully flushed as was her neck and décolletage. She had covered her face with her hands, but could not cover her eyes and witnessed silently, as Paul put his tongue to the bottle and licked along the neck, from her 'tide-mark', upwards. "I think I have it now, it is all adding up."

"Stop, oh please stop. I cannot..... I have to say..... I."

"Whatever is the matter Izzy, am I being a bore of a wine snob, is that it? If it is, let me assure you, it is only because I want you to enjoy mine, as much as you did this bottle."

"Yours?" Izzy was falling to pieces. She had had three or four orgasms in the last ten minutes, had played with herself, fucked herself with a bottle, witnessed the man she lusted after tasting her vaginal juices. These were all firsts for her and they were taking their toll on her ability to control herself. "I'mmm.... I'm sure I will enjoy it, Paul." She looked up into his eyes, not sure herself now, whether she meant the bottle or his cock? "It is just......"