Lucy Ch. 16-20

'I know what you mean, but it was actually me that was turned into the sex-fiend.' I replied. 'But then as I've told you before, even if you only had a sack to wear I'd still want you.'

'Hopefully it won't come to that darling, but it's still nice to hear.' she answered, giving me a quick kiss.

We took the coffee and brandy through to the lounge-room and turned on the TV, neither saying anything for quite a while but not really taking in much of what we were seeing either. 'I can't help thinking about it, what we were saying about clothes I mean.' she said after a few minutes. 'For instance, that girl you told me about, the one you used in your fantasies. When you described her it was mainly the clothes you described.'

'Which girl?'

'The one in your office, I can't remember her name.'

'Oh, you mean Dannie.'

'Yes that's right, Dannie. I know you told me she had a mass of frizzy blonde hair, but other than that it was what she wore that you used to describe her. And I admit I gave her a personality based on that. I think I said she sounded a bit tarty.'

'Yes, you're quite right of course. I actually didn't get to know too much about her, she wasn't with us for that long, but the fantasies I mentioned were built around the kind of girl I imagined would wear those sorts of clothes.'

'See what I mean.'

'But I'm sure women do the same kind of thing.'

'Oh yes of course, but I think most women see past the clothes, at least once they get to know the actual person. Mind you, they might try to change a guy's wardrobe, if what he usually wears doesn't fit their image.' she added with a laugh. 'But I think it's generally accepted that men are much more visually stimulated. I mean girlie magazines and porno videos are mainly produced for men. Sure plenty of women might get something out of them from time to time, but the main market is men.'

'True enough. But I think it's also generally accepted that women actually worry more about what other women think about what they are wearing, that women dress for women, not men.'

'Well at least in public they probably do. But what they wear at home is another matter.' she added with a giggle.

'So it's all a bit complex.'

'Like human nature.'

'Us too?' I asked.

'Oh I think so Jack. Just think of the stuff we've discovered about each other in this short time. And if we are really honest, what we have each found out about ourselves too I think.'

'That's fair enough. Until I met you I had no idea my sex drive could go into over-drive.'

'That's the same for me darling, but I didn't really mean physically, I meant mentally, the stuff that goes on in our heads.'

'I know you did, I think I was trying to avoid at least some of that.'

'Bit scary?'

'Well certainly spooky, some of it is a bit unnerving, yes.'

'But it's good, isn't it? I mean we've both enjoyed the outcomes, haven't we?'

'Oh God yes! It's all too marvellous for words. It's just that I sometimes wonder what else might be tucked away in there, what else I don't know about myself.'

'I'm sure it'll be fun to find out.' she replied with a grin.

'What we said, about the differences between the way men and women see clothes, reminds me of a couple of books I have. They are a compilation of photographers' choices of what they consider the most erotic pictures involving people who are still dressed. In other words pictures relying totally on the viewer's imagination for their effect.

The editors chose photographers for the obvious reason, that they are essentially visual people. But they also divided them into four groups, men and women, and then straight and gay.

What is really fascinating about their choices is not so much the differences between the way men and women see things, though as you would expect, that's pretty strong, but the similarities between the gays and the straights of the opposite sex.'

'Yes that is interesting, you must show me sometime. No, not now.' she added when I started to get up, adding. 'I don't think either of us needs any more stimulation for a while. Let's just sit and talk for a bit.'

And as I was more than happy to give my body time to recover from the fantastic, but still draining events of the previous twenty four hours, that's exactly what we did. Talking, then eventually making our way to bed, that time to merely cuddle close before falling asleep in each other's arms.

Chapter 19

Dannie Returns

Over the next couple of weeks our lives started to develop a pattern that we then followed for several months. On the days Lucy was at university I would go in to my office, and those evenings we would usually eat out somewhere. The other week-days she would study, then cook us something from her steadily expanding repertoire of dishes. That meant we nearly always had the week-ends free to be together, sometimes going for short trips, sometimes staying close to home.

But there was not even a hint of any pattern forming in our sex life, which retained the best of both our seemingly ever stronger love for each other, and our different but equally strong imaginations. Perhaps the best example of Lucy's was something she did about ten days after our conversation about clothes triggering pre-set conceptions and responses.

It was one of her university days and she called me at the office around lunch-time. 'There's an ad hoc lecture being put on that I'd like to go to late this afternoon Jack. I'm sure you have some work you can get on with, so why don't I meet you at your office, we can get something to eat and then maybe go on to a movie. How does that sound?'

'Sounds good. How late do you think you'll be?'

'Oh, an hour and a half, maybe two hours.'

'OK, the security on the building doesn't go on until eight o'clock so you will have no trouble getting in. I'll see you here.'

Although I hadn't done it as much since Lucy had come in to my life, my staff were quite used to me working at odd hours, so as they finished they wished me good-night and by six o'clock I was quite alone.

I was concentrating so hard on the work I was doing that I didn't hear either the outer or my own office doors opening, and have no idea how long she'd been standing there before something made me suddenly look up.

What she had done to herself was such a complete make-over that if I hadn't been expecting Lucy I would have honestly thought it was Dannie returning to work.

She had back-combed and brushed her hair until it was no more than a fuzzy cloud around her head, and her make-up was also completely different to what she normally wore, much heavier, the colours stronger, more dramatic. But the real trigger was what she was wearing, it could easily have been one of Dannie's outfits. The top was bright red, its tight fit and low cut neckline creating such an exciting display of cleavage that for several seconds I just couldn't drag my eyes away. Then I looked lower. The skirt was black, made up of dozens of tiny pleats and as short as any that Dannie had ever worn, exposing long, shapely, black nylon clad legs.

She just stood there, letting me stare at her for a fairly long time, and as I stared I felt my body instantly reacting to her overt sexuality, my heart pumping more strongly, and my cock immediately lengthening and stiffening. Then she spoke, quite quietly, and although I knew it wasn't Dannie's voice, in my head it was her speaking.

'I've had quite a few problems Mr. Saunders, I need a job, desperately. I'll do anything you ask if you'll take me on again. I mean anything!'

I couldn't answer her, as I had when Lucy had told me to look at the picture of Leila, I felt myself slipping down into the crack between reality and fantasy. One part of my brain knew it was Lucy, dressed-up for me, but still Lucy. Another part knew it was Dannie, come back for a job, and if I hadn't misinterpreted her meaning, offering herself in return.

'I realise you're probably fully staffed but apart from being good at my job I thought you liked having me around.' she said. 'I remember seeing you watching me, sometimes catching the look in your eyes, a very hungry look. That look always got me hot, you know, excited me, made me wet.'

She paused, waiting, expecting me to reply, but when I didn't, she added. 'I've always thought you a very attractive man and if I hadn't had such a violently jealous boy-friend I'd have come on to you. Well now he's gone, thank God, and if you still feel the way about me that I think you did before, well...'

When I had told Lucy that I had fantasised about Dannie I hadn't told the complete truth, had downplayed both the frequency and intensity of the fantasies I'd had during that period. For at least a year following the day she'd walked into my office for her initial job interview even Leila had sometimes been pushed into second place as my favourite fantasy girl.

At some time during each day that she had worked for me I'd feel my cock stirring as I caught sight of some part of her, a tempting length of leg, the exciting curve of her breasts or bottom, or just the sensual shape of her glossy lips.

More nights than I cared to admit to she'd been the last thing I'd thought of, masturbating as I pictured us doing all manner of incredible things to and with each other.

I had imagined just about every possible scenario, from a lengthy, almost romantic seduction, to instant, purely lustful passion. At different times we had each been either the hesitant, almost unwilling recipient of the other's attention, or the determined, not to be denied, aggressor. But one of the most frequently used situations, around which I had created a whole bank of fantasies, was her using me as merely her sexual plaything. Her on again, off again willingness to have sex with me driving me mad with jealousy and physical frustration.

Sometimes I consciously built one of those, taking time to slowly construct the scenario and sequence of events, gently playing with my cock and balls as I put the thing together piece by piece. Others came straight into my head, usually as a result of some small, quite innocent event during the day. Dannie might have been wearing some new, slightly more outrageous outfit, or at some stage glanced up from her work and simply caught my eye. Perhaps she had given me a small smile, or I had seen, or at least imagined I had seen a certain look in her eye. If I wasn't too preoccupied with what I was doing that could be quite enough to get me going, and many times I found myself sitting behind my desk wondering what to do about the raging erection that resulted from my subsequent imaginings.

During my innumerable fantasies we'd had sex or stroked, licked and sucked each other to the most incredible climaxes in every part of the building, from the basement car park to the actual roof. We'd done it in various parts of the office, in the lifts, on the fire stairs, and anywhere else I could think of.

In my mind I knew her body better than I did my own, I had fondled, licked and kissed every inch of her, and fucked her every way imaginable, many, many times. I had not only come in her pussy, arse and mouth, but had also sprayed it into or over every other part of her. During that time I could have filled a fairly large container with all the semen I'd ejaculated while thinking about Dannie.

So I guess it wasn't surprising that I reacted the way I did when Lucy/Dannie finally moved. She took just two small steps forward and I was finally sucked down by a whirlpool made up of all the thoughts I'd ever had about her.

I got up and moved forward too, slipping one arm around her shoulder and pulling her towards me, while the other went straight up under her skimpy skirt and cupped her arse. It was bare! I suddenly realised it couldn't be pantyhose she was wearing, but stockings, and what was even more exciting, she wasn't wearing any panties! The discovery added fuel to the fire the mere sight of her had lit inside me and as I felt my cock surge higher, I kissed her, hard, greedily. Kissing her lips, then her neck, her shoulder, at the same time digging my fingers into the crack between her arse cheeks.

As I held her tighter I felt her squirming herself against me, grinding her pelvis against the hard length of my already throbbing cock. 'Oh Mr. Saunders, I've wanted you for such a long time!' she gasped when we finally broke for air. 'And right now I need you, badly! Do it to me here, on your desk! I used to dream about that.'

She somehow broke from my arms, turned and swept the things on my desk to the far end. Having cleared a space she kicked off her shoes and pulled the top up over her head. Then hiking her skirt up to her waist, she sat on the edge, leaned back and spread her legs apart.

It all happened so quickly, one second I had her in my arms, was kissing her, the next, she was virtually naked, waiting for me to fuck her.

I stared at her, at first almost hypnotised by the fiery look in her eyes. Then I dragged mine away to look down at the lush, up-curving swell of her breasts, and saw that their dark red tips were already spiking. Looking lower I noticed that the stockings she was wearing were grip-tops, needing no suspender belt, the contrast between the black nylon and pale, creamy flesh making her thighs seem even longer, even sexier. Slowly following their line, my eyes were finally drawn up to where they joined, to her pussy, and saw that its outer lips were already puffy, glistening, she was just as aroused as I was.

She confirmed I was right when I started to undo the buttons down the front of my shirt and she told me not to waste time undressing. 'Just unzip your trousers.' she muttered breathlessly.

I felt I was being swept along on a tide of sheer animal-like lust that her appearance, behaviour and words were generating. But I still had enough presence of mind to realise that doing what she suggested might result in getting tender skin caught in the teeth of the zip, so rather than take that risk, I unbuckled and pushed my trousers and pants down to my knees.

'I always knew you'd have a big one.' she said as my cock sprang free. 'But that's even bigger than I imagined, it looks strong too. Now give it to me, I've waited a long time for this.'

As I moved between her legs she lifted them, wrapping them around my waist, and as she pulled me forward I felt her fingers closing around my cock, guiding it. I heard myself groan as the head slipped between those moistly clinging folds and her nylon clad thighs gripped me. Pushing forward, I felt waves of pleasure starting to course through me and paused to savour the intensity of the sensations her pussy was already giving me. But she allowed my only a few short seconds for that, then I felt her heels digging into me. 'Come on, don't muck about, I said give it to me!'

I did as she instructed and ended up fucking her more violently than I'd ever fucked any woman.

Initially I was driven not only by what I was feeling physically, but also the fact that I was finally relieving some of the accumulated lust that had built up during the creation of all those fantasies about Dannie. But in addition to those was also the effect her increasingly coarse language had on me. After the first dozen or so strokes she started saying things I'd never heard from a woman's mouth. Telling me - 'Ah yes, that's the cock I've been waiting for. Big, hot, and hard. Very, very big, and very, very hard!' Then - 'Now, really fuck me! Fuck my juicy cunt, fuck it good! Fuck me like I've never been fucked before.' And later, urging me on with - 'That's good, but now harder, deeper, faster! Split me right open with that gorgeous cock!'

Not surprisingly I had one of the fastest climaxes of my life. But what was even more surprising was the fact that she came just as quickly. It couldn't have been more than a couple of minutes before I felt the surge, then the immediate, scalding rush of erupting semen. I heard myself give a loud, guttural roar as I rammed my cock even deeper, then felt the first load exploding into her.

'Yesss! Oh yesss, more, give me more! Hose that stuff into my cunt! Flood it! Fill me!' she cried in a high-pitched, almost wailing voice as her legs and hands urged me to go still faster. And then, as I continued pistoning in and out, spouting a series of equally massive gouts into her, she suddenly screamed. 'Ooh, shit!!!' And I felt the first climactic wave hit and carry her high over the top.

At the same time I felt her cunt contracting tightly around my cock and the rhythmic spasms were so strong they triggered fresh waves of excitement. And although I'd pumped so much semen into her that I knew the reservoir must be drained, I also knew I still wasn't finished with her.

I continued pounding until I could tell from her less frenzied reactions that she was starting to wind down from her own orgasm, then, with a loud squelching sound, I pulled my cock out. As I withdrew she opened her eyes, they were still glazed and misty from the force of her response but she managed to give me a flicker of a smile. 'You were...' she started to say, but I wasn't ready to receive any compliments yet, I still had some fucking to do.

Her dreamy smile changed to a look of surprise when I took her by the waist and pulled her off the desk. I could only imagine her expression when I then turned her around and pushed her face down on to it, but from the eager way she spread her legs and lifted her arse I guessed it would be one of excited anticipation.

I couldn't believe the way I was feeling, nor the amount of sexual energy I somehow knew I still had available, and when I glanced down at my cock I was just as amazed to see the state it was in. Although I had just climaxed, it still looked enormous, and was still rock-hard. And then there was its colour. The shaft was blood red, gnarled with dark blue-black veins, and the head itself, which was hugely bloated, had turned an angry reddish purple. As the whole thing was also glistening from end to end with the thick coating of our co-mingled fluids it really looked more like something out of a horror story picture book than the penis I thought I knew so well.

'Dannie has done this too me.' I thought. 'It's Dannie's wanton display, and especially her crude and lascivious language that's done this. It's her actions, and reactions that have turned me into a lustful, sex-driven brute.

Girls who behave like that can be a danger to themselves. If she's allowed to go on like this she could end up with someone who doesn't have as much control of themselves as I do. She could get raped, or even more seriously hurt.

She's got to learn to control herself. She needs to be taught a lesson. What she needs is a good spanking!'

Spanking had never been something I had even fantasised about doing, but as I took that first swing, felt the palm of my hand connect with the firmness of her bottom, heard the loud smack, her suddenly indrawn breath, and felt my cock surge, I found myself looking forward to giving her a few more.

As spankings go, what I gave her probably rates pretty low on the list, but even so the rounded cheeks quickly turned pink, then a deeper, blush-red colour. At first she gave no more than a small gasp each time my hand landed but those soon turned to sharper cries, her body wriggling and writhing in response.

I quickly sensed that not only didn't she object to what I was doing but quite the opposite, it seemed I was actually rearousing her sexually. Realising that, I continued for longer than I otherwise would have and tried to heighten her response by changing the way I was doing it, interspersing a series of fast, quite light slaps with the occasional, delayed, but much sharper smack.

When I'd pushed her face down on to the desk she had automatically pulled her arms up over her head and so the sounds she was making were muffled. But as she got more excited, in between her gasps and meaningless cries I thought I could just make out the occasional word. 'Bad girl.' 'Naughty girl.' And, even less distinctly, but more disturbingly - 'Daddy.'