Mind Fuck Ch. 02

Still wearing just the torn, white lacy thong and my strappy, high heeled pumps I, rather embarrassedly picked up my dress and jacket.

Guy had turned away and was standing naked relighting the thick, Davidoff cigar.

"Where's the bathroom please?" I asked.

Without turning and looking out of the leaded window onto the very dimly quadrangle in the centre of the college, he said, "Through the door, down the corridor and second on the right."

As I walked out of the sitting room where we had just had sex for nearly two hours I noticed he didn't even turn and watch me leave.

The bathroom was very old fashioned as, I suppose, should be expected in a Cambridge University college that was nearly seven hundred years old. It was functional and rudimentary, with no luxury or unnecessary fitments. I toyed with showering, but the big cast iron bath with a rather dirty and torn shower curtain wasn't inviting so I washed myself instead with a flannel and hot water.

Where he had ripped my thong the gusset hung down between my legs, but the waist band was intact. Without thinking I tried fixing it so it looked as if it hadn't been torn. For some reason I didn't want to drive the fifty or so miles home with no panties on, daft really. I worked out that by easing the waistband down a little further onto my hips I could slide the back of the gusset into it and that would hold it in place. I did that and checked it out in the full length, free standing mirror. It looked ok, but I was a little alarmed at the red blotches on the tops of both of my breasts. The alarm was for two reasons. One, I would have to be careful in front of my fifteen year old daughter, explaining love bites and teeth marks on your breasts, isn't an easy thing for a mother and secondly, and more importantly, I didn't remember him doing it.

*

I am not a tramp. I'm not a slut, I'm not easy and I don't give it away or put it around to all and sundry. Before last night I'd had sex probably no more than three or four times in the past year and that was with an old flame with whom I had a long standing 'no strings attached' relationship. I hadn't really even dated for the past three years and I had no interest in casual sex and wanted no involvement with men, at least until my daughter went to university.

Just why the hell then, I had gone back to this Cambridge University Professor of Humanities rooms in Corpus Christi College and had let him fuck me for nearly an hour? That was a mystery. But I had and it fascinated and excited me. Why? Two reasons above all else.

One him. Guy Bresterton was probably the most intelligent man I had ever met and I am a sucker for a brightness; give me a big brain every time over a big dick. He was the reason I went to his rooms after the luncheon party and the Humanist meeting.

The other reason and why I did act like a tramp? It was, I was thinking as I drove my BMW M3 down the M11 towards my Docklands apartment, because he treated me like one. Daft reason I know, but thinking through the whole situation as I drove along the uncrowded road on that Sunday evening around midnight, I was sure the combination of his intelligence, his manner and that approach, was why I behaved so differently to the norm. He moved my goalposts, took me out of my comfort zone, treated me with utmost respect as a sexual plaything, but with scorn as anything else. And on top of that he had the most amazingly blue eyes with which he stared intently, melting my resistance and creating an easy entrance for him into my knickers.

An old college friend Gayle had invited me to the luncheon and introduced me to Guy. She was a university researcher and worked occasionally for him. She hadn't said as much, but I became sure during the day that a lot of that work was probably carried on with her lying on her back with Guy between her spreaded legs. Now, having been taken by him, I wasn't so sure; wasn't so sure that she would have been on her back, I hadn't been. I'd been turned round, bent over a table and fucked and then turned round again to face him, but still standing up.

*

"Ok I'm off," I said quietly coming out of the bathroom. I was wearing the halter neck, sleeveless and largely backless, cream and orange 'cocktail' dress and the white linen jacket with the sleeves rolled up a la Miami Vice.

I was surprised to see that he was still naked as he looked out of the small window smoking his cigar.

"Ok," he said turning slowly and looking across the comfortably furnished in a very old fashioned manner room at me. He hadn't put on any lights so it was dim, but as he walked towards me I could hardly believe my eyes, he was fully erect. When we'd had sex, he'd made me cum several times and he'd withdrawn just after I'd climaxed. I was so worked up and sexually sated that I hadn't noticed if he'd ejaculated or not, but then I recalled as I washed there were no dribbles.

"Yes, fine," I mumbled "I'd better be going."

"Yes I guess so, but where is it?"

"Where's what?"

Smiling, coming closer and fixing me with that devastating blue eyed stare he said. "My trophy."

"I'm sorry?"

"My momento, my souvenir, my reward for what we did."

"I'm sorry Guy," I said fumbling through my oversized and bloody inconvenient bag for my car keys "I don't understand."

"He came up closer and kissed me, pressing his erection very pointedly right into my stomach."

"Your panties Amanda, where is the thong I tore from you?"

"Er," I started now feeling embarrassed as well as confused. "I'm still wearing it?"

"But why, it's torn."

"It feels odd not to wear it."

"Ah such modesty, such conforming, such conditioning Mandy, we will have to cure you of that," he said kissing me again. "Won't we?" He went on breaking the kiss, holding my chin and fixing me with that amazingly intense stare of his stunning, but rather cold blue eyes.

Again that feeling of being controlled and directed came over me. I felt I was losing my power to direct myself and was coming under his spell. What the hell was it?

"Yes," I whispered.

"Turn round Amanda."

I had no idea why, but I didn't hesitate for not doing as he asked, well ordered really, simply didn't enter my mind.

"Put your hands against the wall and support yourself."

"Why?"

"Don't ask Mandy, you will never need to ask, always just do as I wish please."

I did and leaned forward my arms straight out, my hands against the wall.

I felt him pressing his erection against me, he rubbed it on the silk covering my bottom, the underside of it slipping into the crease of my bum. Then he moved away and, glancing back, I saw that he was kneeling behind me. Being slightly taller than my five feet seven his face was about level with my bum. I saw the long lock of dark hair flopping over his forehead and watched as he flicked it back into place; I knew it wouldn't stay there, for it hadn't all day long.

His fingers were on the hem of my dress and I realised that he was edging it up my bare, tanned legs. That sent a shiver through me, but whether that was of trepidation, lust, concern, embarrassment or excitement I wasn't sure, probably all of them. It went past the top of the back of my knees, up my lower thighs to about mid thigh, where he stopped. He was muttering something that I couldn't quite make out and then I realised he was speaking in Latin, he sounded like the Pope! He ran his fingers very softly up and down my inner thighs, going almost up as far as the torn thong, but stopping just in time; it was hugely sexy. He pushed my dress up further, very slowly revealing my upper thighs, then my thong covered bottom to him. A gentle tug on that and of course the gusset fell away from the waist band.

"Now what's the point of that Amanda?"

"None really," I admitted as I felt that blue eyed stare on my bottom and pussy.

"Then we should remove and leave it here for display in my trophy case shouldn't we?"

"What?" I said, genuinely shocked "You'll put it on display?"

"Only for my eyes Mandy, when I want to remember you, recall what we did, how we had sex and when I need to masturbate about you."

No man had ever spoken to me like that before and his words crashed into my mind, just as his talk on bisexuality had at the meeting earlier this afternoon.

"Because I will Amanda, I most certainly will masturbate endlessly about this," he whispered stroking the cheeks of my bottom almost with reverence "And this," he continued, running his fingers softly along the lips of my pussy "And of course these," he went on reaching up between my legs and squeezing my full breasts.

"Oh Guy," I whimpered, now so under his spell I would have done anything he asked.

"Undo the halter neck," He said taking hold of the ruined thong and starting to ease it down my thighs. He quickly removed it as I pulled the Velcro on the halter at the back of the dress apart and let either side fall away from me, my leaning forward position helping it to fall from my boobs. The dress had some inbuilt support that my D verging on DD cup breasts needs, so I wasn't wearing a bra and they were quickly naked.

He was holding my hips, he licked the cheek of my bum.

"You can play with your tits Mandy," he said as if he believed I needed his permission. I'm not sure I did, but nevertheless I did cup and squeeze them with one hand as I continued supporting myself with the other.

His lips and tongue were roaming over the cheeks of my bottom kissing and licking the full mounds and then gently nibbling them. That and what I was doing to myself created a wonderful cocktail of sexual sensations. But they were nothing compared with what was to come.

I felt him grip, tightly each of my cheeks. I gasped at the sharp pain as his fingernails dug into the soft, pliant flesh as he pulled my cheeks apart and then whimpered with pleasure as that pain combined with the pleasure of the tip of his tongue pressing right on my anus. He lubricated that with his spittle then wiggled his tongue so it slipped in a little way. That and my own caresses on my breasts sent me over the top and he gave me yet another orgasm.

"That's enough for now," he said standing up still fully erect my ripped thong in his hand. "We'll come back to that later won't we Amanda?"

"Without really thinking I had whispered "Yes Guy."

*

On the trip home I couldn't work out what had happened to me. Well I knew what had happened, I had been well and truly totally seduced and royally fucked. It was the why that concerned and interested me. I just wasn't and never had been like that. I didn't need sex that much, I didn't 'fall' like that, I didn't open my legs easily. But I couldn't escape the fact that I had and big time.

I knew I was impressed by his mind and intellect. When Gayle had told me about him saying he was among the most intelligent men she had ever met and given that she worked at Cambridge, that made him special. And she wasn't wrong. But there was something else and I couldn't put my finger on what it was. Yes I was fascinated by him, interested in his views and attracted by his physical appearance. That didn't though explain why I had given myself so easily and fully to him, why I let him dominate me so easily and completely and why I had been his to with as he wished, for I realised that was the situation.

My phone rang.

"You do have hands free don't you?" Guy asked.

"Yes," I replied wondering how he had got my mobile number, but I didn't ask.

"Can you pull off the motorway soon."

"I think so yes, the Stansted turn off shouldn't be far."

"Good, now undo that halter neck just as you did leaning against my wall."

"Guy, I can't driving."

"Yes you can it's easy, relax, free yourself. No one will see, the doors are too high" he told me, "I know, I have done it many times."

"But what if a truck comes past?" I asked my body beginning to win against my mind.

"Stay in the outside lane, now come on," he ordered, as I found my fingers fumbling at the Velcro.

"Are they out?"

"Yes, but I am at the turn off now."

"Good, find somewhere quiet. Are your nipples hard?"

I touched them and glanced down; they were like bullets.

"Yes."

"I am naked Amanda."

"Really?" Was all I managed to stammer.

"Yes very hard, thinking about you, I'm holding your panties, they feel lovely against my cock."

I drove away from Stansted towards Dunmow then turned off the main road into a lane. I went along it for a while, pleased to be in the dark with no traffic around for I wasn't too sure on the window height covering my bare tits; it did feel nice though being bare breasted and having Guy telling me about my panties and his erection.

"You know what you are going to do don't you Amanda?"

"I think so yes."

"What is it?"

"You want me to masturbate, yes?"

"Of course, have you found somewhere?" He asked as I found a short track leading to a gate across a field with heavy bushes either side. I reversed into it and cut the engine.

"Yes."

"I have started to wank, Mandy and I want us to cum together."

"Oh," was all I could whimper sitting there in the dark silence of the countryside.

I pushed the central locking button and turned the interior light off as, at the same time I stroked my breasts, just as I had earlier when he made oral, anus love to me.

"Mmm it feels lovely Amanda, almost as good as fucking you did. My hand feels almost like your cunt."

I didn't say anything.

"You are still there Mandy?"

"Yes Guy."

"Pull your skirt up and open your legs."

I did.

"We both know you haven't got any panties on don't we?"

"Yes Guy," I whispered.

"Because I have them here Mandy and I am holding them round my cock as I imagine sticking that right up your cunt. The cunt Mandy that you have to rub, right now."

"I can't Guy."

"Don't can't me, just do it, you slut, for that's what you are and sluts do that sort of thing don't they?"

He was right, he must have been for I did do it, I did rub my cunt and I did cum with him as I lay on the front seat of my car, my tits out and my dress round my waist.

*

I got a text message the next day.

'It was all great, I want to do it again soon, G'

But then I heard nothing for over two weeks. I was relieved, I think. It had all been extreme and disturbing. Perhaps I should just put it down to experience and forget about it, I thought. He and what we had got up to were way out of my league, I was straightforward, a typical mum, albeit divorced, but a pillar of society, golf and tennis club member and a relatively successful business woman.

I tried Gayle, but she didn't respond to my phone messages or emails. That wasn't that unusual for she travelled frequently with her freelance research projects. I then got a mail from her. 'Was a good time had by one and all?'

I was in a meeting with the creative team of a small agency in Paddington. My phone vibrated. It was a text.

'I want you again, contact me, G'

My heart pounded and my pulse raced. Surely I could and should ignore it or say no. Looking around to ensure I was being watched as texting in meetings was frowned upon I typed.

'When?'

'ASAP'

'Today?'

'Yes, this afternoon at 3, ok?'

'Ok'

'Call when you get to Cam, don't wear much and no bra.'

I was trembling, I felt hot and then cold, and then sick. What was I doing? I looked at my watch

"Er excuse me Richard,"

"Yes Amanda."

"I'm sorry, I've had something come up, I have to go."

"You can't if you are going to do this campaign, it's the only chance I have to brief you."

"Could you not let Harry do it?" I suggested throwing three or four days at six hundred pounds a day down the drain.

'Don't wear much' was running through my mind as I showered at home and started to dress.

I slid a lemon coloured, cheap thong up my legs and put another into my bag, just in case, I smiled. 'No bra' he'd specified, now that with my melons was awkward. I slid into a tight singlet that I sometimes wear at the gym. It's similar to the vests worn by athletes. Being thin, my nipples, over which I could clearly see I had lost control, beamed at me in the mirror like two beacons. Momentarily I wondered what he would think if I turned up like that and walked through the courtyards and quadrangles of Corpus Christi? Not daring to try it, I put on a yellow, silk blouse on which I left enough buttons undone to show the top of the vest and the swell of my boobs inside it. I toyed with what to wear down below and tried several garments until I settled on a white, fairly, but not overly, short, thin skirt with brass buttons up the front. Twirling in front of the mirror I felt I was following his brief.

It was just after one thirty when I set out and the ride through Docklands, past Beckton and onto the M11 was easy; it was early for the rush hour and I knew that barring something unexpected I should be able to make Cambridge comfortably by three. I took my time keeping with the seventy speed limits as I buzzed north through the pleasant Essex, Hertfordshire then Cambridgeshire countryside.

Obviously my thoughts were on Guy and what was happening. I didn't understand it and was now starting to think I never would and did that matter? I was fascinated by him, the approach he took and his attitude towards sex; it was so different to everything I had ever believed in. I had never had any form of relationship based purely on sex, particularly sex of the sort he was introducing me to.

I also had no comprehension of the power he had on me. I couldn't believe what I had done at the agency this morning and that I was now rushing to meet my lover; was that what he was, I smiled.

I was fortunate that I had met him at a time when I had more freedom than usual. Sara my daughter and three of her friends had asked if they could attend a crammer college to prepare them for their exams. Being semi residential she was away a lot and thus, I was able to do the things I was doing, such as not worrying about rushing home the other Sunday and instead laying in my car in the dark, my tits uncovered and my skirt round my waist as Guy and I grunted to a mutual climax.

"Hi it's me," I said into my hands free.

"Where are you?"

"Not far, the sat nav says two miles."

"Ok come into the centre and get onto the A14."

"Not the college?" I asked.

"No I want you to see my farm. It's at Swaffham Bulbeck, put it in the satnav."

I found it quite easily and turned onto the private lane that was nearly a mile long. He was waiting for me at the door. I was surprised that he was wearing a dark blue, silk, mid calf length dressing gown.

"Hi welcome to Blakes," he said walking across the cobbled courtyard and opening my car door. As I got out he took me in his arms and kissed me, quite unabashed that there were two working men and an older lady looking on. They took no notice and just got on with their work.

He put his arm round me and we walked inside. It was beautifully furnished, so much different from his rooms at the college. It combined wonderful antiques with the most modern of artefacts and furniture including plasma TVs in the kitchen and the small sitting room.

"A drink?"

"Well that depends when I next have to drive."

Smiling and settling his disarming, cold blue, but sparkling gaze on me he said.

"Tomorrow?"

As frightening, extreme, different and controlling as things had been on that Sunday, they were now quite the opposite.

We kissed and he took me upstairs to an equally modern and impressive bedroom with a huge bed. Beautiful music, Bach violin concerto I think, was playing, although the huge, probably fifty inch, wall mounted TV was on as well showing a fashion channel. The floor to ceiling French windows on one side of the two aspect room were open leading out onto what looked to be a sizeable balcony. I could smell the countryside and hear the sounds of birds and cows and sheep in the distance. A gentle breeze blew in keeping the large room cool and refreshing.