Never Mind The Face Pt. 05

Part 5. Do Whatever You Want

Chapter 9. Sylvia Starts To Share

Sex on a horse was something pretty special, but left me with more guilt. I had got my satisfaction yet again, using Sylvia's body whilst she remained bereft of hers. I dismounted sheepishly and approached her.

"Help me down," she commanded.

I held her under her arms to help her to slide down from the mare. Sylvia had exerted more energy than I had, keeping control of the mare with her arms, and at times her legs. As a result, she looked physically exhausted.

She walked with slightly ungainly steps to Honey's saddle bags, but she still managed to make it look sexy. She retrieved a colourful PVC Bag.

I heard a whinny behind me. I had quite forgotten that my steed had been docilely following us. I turned my head to acknowledge Honey, the redundant bystander. In return the mare acknowledged my glance and raised then shook her head. I thought I detected a baleful look. What would she have to complain about? She had borne none of our weight yet had had a ringside seat to our unbridled sex show.

Sylvia held out a pack of baby wet wipes. "Can you clean Marshi's back, please?"

She was standing with her feet parted, cleaning her own nether regions with a moist wipe in the other hand. It was a very intimate act to witness. Her head was bent to the task, yet she peered up at me from under her brows, to check on my reaction. She was obviously posing for me, which made it all the sexier. Her faint smile showed her satisfaction at my reaction.

I watched curiously and with evident pleasure until she had completed her ablution, then I tended to Marshi.

The mare had won my total respect for her outstanding conduct. I gently cleaned Sylvia's moist secretions from the mare's back, tenderly congratulating her for carrying her mistress' naked body with such care. Marshi turned her head to acknowledge me, as if understanding my thoughts.

I felt a hand slide between my buttocks and cup my balls from behind. Of course, it had to be Sylvia. She had an obvious fascination with male genitalia which suggested complementary voyeuristic tendencies to my own.

She had a question for me.

"When did you first fancy me?"

"Seeing you on the badminton court in those hardly-there shorts."

"Not before?"

"Not at first. Why do you ask?"

"I don't think I'm beautiful, I never feel beautiful. Yet you seem to think I'm sexy."

"You're fishing for compliments? You've every right to do so. But I won't bullshit you because you'd see through it. I assume you want my honest opinion? Perhaps you aren't conventionally beautiful, but neither do you make the best of what you've got.

"Do you remember the occasion when we first met, in that corridor for our interviews? You looked thoroughly miserable, although I now think it was shyness. You answered my polite questions with monosyllables. I found it off-putting at the time. Whenever I met you after that, in passing, you appeared to scowl, which was neither endearing nor attractive. if I'm being honest nothing changed until we began to get work together and got to know each other. I saw another side to you, then, one I suspect that you allow very few to discover."

"Hm, I know my face isn't naturally beautiful, so what attracted you?"

It was a statement, not a ruse to force a denial. I suppressed thoughts of that postal delivery driver's words all those years ago. I was beginning to see women differently now.

"You first interested me when you began to mellow towards me. Your face looked different; your features softened. Perhaps the real you began to emerge when you engaged with me. You've got a beautiful smile, you know? It transforms your face.

"But what I find most off-putting is your office 'uniform'. It's utterly unappealing. It's as if you deliberately set out to keep men at bay - in fact I think you said that to me once.

"I think men would find you much more attractive if you dressed to impress, or to attract. I hope you don't think that insulting?"

"Ha ha, maybe I could impress more if I showed my body. You know, I used to stand in front of the mirror, studying my face. I never felt attractive."

"If you'd done that naked, I suspect you wouldn't have been concentrating on your face."

"How true. Are you reading my mind? I'm turned on by beautiful bodies, particularly other women's. I know I'm not lesbian, at least I don't think about women sexually, and goodness knows, I've had at least one woman try to seduce me. But I like female bodies. I've even grown to appreciate my own. I know it has its good points. Have you ever studied your body like that?"

She was delving deep into my sexuality as well. Normally, I wouldn't have replied, but in the interests of reciprocity I did.

"I have, actually. I didn't think I could ever be attractive to women - until I started to have success with them. When a few gorgeous women started to show an interest in me, I wondered what they saw in me. Maybe some liked the idea of a single father being devoted to his son? Others might have sensed my sexual appreciation of them in my eyes.

"I would beg girlfriends to striptease for me. Most refused, some through shyness, a few because they thought it demeaning. So one day, I stood in front of a full-length mirror and tried to imagine what it felt like to do a striptease. How do women feel about showing their bodies and how men react to it?

"It wasn't easy. I could imagine how a woman might be intimidated by a man watching her, afraid that she might not arouse him and simply look ridiculous.

"I watched myself perform in the mirror. I was quite surprised. I studied my gyrations, like a male stripper would act. It felt absurd at first. But when I cupped my genitals and squatted, spreading my thighs apart, I got aroused at seeing my body as women would see it. It was erotic. I was so excited that after a few strokes, I came in my hands.

"So I performed for a girlfriend, just like that. We had our best sex ever that evening."

That intimate confession left me feeling exposed and vulnerable as mere nudity never could.

"Mmm, I'd like to have seen that. So is it my body you really like?"

"Your body is exceptional. But your face comes alive as well when you're aroused and excited. There was a look on your face on that badminton court that will forever be etched into my memory for its intensity of desire.

"It was a revelation to see your bottom in those shorts - well, hot pants. I never imagined when seeing you before in your tight office skirts that you had such a fantastic figure. Every part of your naked body looks fantastic, back and front. How many women can claim that? I feel privileged that you're willing to show yourself to me like that. At this moment, I can think of no other woman I'd rather be with."

"Hold me. Make me feel wanted."

We came together and hugged. I felt her body shudder as I embraced her. It wasn't from fear though, it was as if her whole body was enjoying a frisson of emotional, or sexual fulfilment. But it wasn't an orgasm.

We held each other tightly, kissing deeply, and pressing our bodies together along their whole lengths. It was a moment of sublime oneness, of shared desire and pleasure. It made me light-headed, stemming as it did from a simple embrace.

Sylvia released me and stepped back a few inches. She studied my eyes at close quarters, shifting her gaze from one pupil to the other as if searching for a sign. She took a deep breath.

"I need to tell you something, before matters go any further. It's why I had to organise today with so much advanced planning and preparation."

The gravitas in her voice suggested that she was about to be reveal something momentous.

She looked around for a grassy spot on which to place the tender flesh of her bottom. I chose a spot and sat. She smiled and, without seeking permission, sat astride me on my thighs, facing me. She put her arms around my neck and clung to me. We both closed our eyes, caught up in a moment of blissful shared intimacy. It was such a natural move that spoke volumes, of closeness and trust.

She began to talk in a throaty half whisper. Her words were poignant but conveyed a sense of deep frustrated sensuality.

"I have great difficulty reaching orgasms. You must have guessed that by now. - No, don't say anything. Normal intercourse doesn't do anything for me. It's one of the reasons that Alfie and I split up. He used my body for his own gratification and didn't care about me. I had a miserable marriage.

"I'm telling you that now because I was close to having the most sensational orgasm just now, on Marshi. Maybe it was the eroticism of the bareback horse ride, but I prefer to believe that it was also because of you, and how you make me feel. I felt desired and wanted. I'm wondering whether my upbringing has had something to do with my physical problems? Maybe I have mental problems as well? Whatever, I hope you will stick with me to help me find a solution."

How could I respond? I had no magic potion that would conjure up her ecstasy. I couldn't begin to guess at what was causing her inability to orgasm; it certainly wasn't for the sake of arousal. I had no magic wand, let alone a magic dick. All I could do was support her any way I could.

We hugged and kissed again. Her breasts pressed against my upper chest, like two barely yielding fleshy sacs. Her moist fluids dampened my groin and the neck of my shaft.

It was a perfect moment.

"Shall we ride back now?" she asked at last.

I grimaced. "My balls won't take any more pounding. I shall have to walk from here."

She laughed. "Then we shall walk back, buck naked, together. We've come in almost two thirds of a circle. I'll return later with the Land Rover for our clothes."

She led her Marshi by the reins and walked ahead of me, to let me admire her exquisite bottom some more as we walked barefoot, and bareback naked, to the stables. It took quite some time, avoiding the uneven ground, lateral tree toots and unforgiving, sharp stones, but it was a magical experience for me. I couldn't stop staring at Sylvia's perfect bottom, and her sinuously, sensuous hips as she walked. At times, when the track widened, we walked side by side, hand in hand. The mares followed us obediently.

I knew there was more to be revealed about Sylvia in her own good time, and I couldn't wait to discover what.

~*~*~

Chapter 10. Exotic Fantasy Made Real

After bareback sex on her horse, our relationship looked set fair to blossom. But fate has a way of screwing up destiny when things seem to be going well. I went home in ebullient mood, eager to spend more time with Sylvia. Yet in the days that followed I struggled to find an excuse to contact her. I knew I was nowhere near close to loving her yet; I still hardly knew her. Our meetings were now mostly about sex. She didn't like to go out on conventional dates, to the theatre, cinema, days out in the countryside, or fine dining. She was too bound up in her enclosed world and her problems to want to participate in wider activities.

My own home life became unbearable at times. I was lonely despite William's precocious company. We did things together at weekends. He liked to look at caravans and boats, never tiring of visits to dealers' show fields. We went on holiday to an upmarket holiday camp, but it was filled with families and couples. Singleton males just did not holiday alone in those days.

I did my best to smile and inure myself to single parenthood and Williams' welfare. I could not let him see my anguish. Nor could I wholly blame my ex-wife for my predicament because in the end I had cheated on her as well, with Sylvia. But I was stuck with a mortgage I could barely afford, along with meeting the costs of schooling for our son. I relied on Sandra's largesse to buy his school uniform and sports kits and other accessories. She made a big thing about 'helping me out', She had me dangling on an economic string. But I was carrying by far the heaviest burden.

Sylvia's new job was not working out. She had lied about her qualifications. It was to prove her undoing once it was discovered. She retreated again into her shell. All the progress we had made dissolved away with her self-esteem.

When I finally telephoned her she wasn't in a good place.

"The company found out about my CV. They'd assumed I was qualified. They're making life difficult for me. I think they want me to quit. But where would I go?"

Something about her voice wasn't right.

"How do you feel?"

"I'm very depressed. I thought of calling you many times, but it was hard to admit that you were right all along."

"Sylvia, don't punish yourself. You know your stuff. I'm sorry that I was so bound up in my problems that I didn't call you before now."

"Did you think of me?"

"Often. Take it as a compliment: I've masturbated to memories of you, several times."

"Tell me something good, to cheer me up."

"There's nothing in my private life to shout about. I just drift along these days. No girlfriend. I live for my son, and I think often of you."

"Don't you get the urge from time to time, you know, just to see a woman for pleasure?"

I took a deep breath. That question was very personal and near the knuckle.

"I manage without going looking for sex. I have my imagination, and my memories."

"Memories of us?"

Her voice had softened, become seductive. My cock stiffened at her allusion to our previous sexual encounters.

"Those most of all."

"Do you ever think about me?"

"Frequently. I wonder how you're getting on, what you're thinking. I remember some very arousing encounters, but they were all somewhat one-sided. I always felt guilty afterwards of exploiting you."

"That wasn't your fault, and I know it wasn't your intention. I participated willingly, to give you pleasure, and to feed my fantasies."

"So do you often think about me?"

"Yes, and more frequently recently. I have fantasies about how I can improve my sex life."

She paused, waiting for me to react.

"Do I ever figure in them?"

"Yes."

"Care to tell me more?"

"If you get your cock out. I want you to stroke it. Let me hear you come."

"You mean telephone sex? Isn't that just as hopeless for you as physical sex?"

"I discovered with you that I enjoy making a man come, if he's worth it, even if I can't manage it myself. It makes me feel good. I was turned on from the start when we started to flirt in the office. Do you remember?"

"You mean when you claimed to be wearing those skin tight shorts under your skirt?"

"Yes, do you recall how you felt?"

"I remember the office falling dark, barely being able to see you. Your voice getting sexier as we talked in the gloom. When you persuaded me to get under the desk, I was turned on, even though there was little prospect of anything sexy happening."

"But you did get on your knees, my boss, the pervert."

"Ouch! You were enticing me. I did what any highly-sexed man would, out of sheer curiosity."

"And you found my wide-open thighs, and what did you discover?"

"You weren't wearing any panties. I could see your naked pussy, lit by a torch in your hand. I was stunned, unsure what to make of that. I couldn't really take it all in, then. But I've recalled that moment often afterwards"

"Have you got your cock out?"

"Yes, I've pushed down my pants. I'm holding my cock in my hand."

"Take all your clothes off; I want you to be naked... Done?... Is it hard? Do you want to come?"

"Yes."

"Have you stripped?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember that trip to the archive store?"

"Yes."

"What do you remember about that?"

"You insisted on climbing up onto the worktop counter and reaching up for a box. I guessed that you did it so that I would admire your bottom in your tight skirt."

"That was true. In my fantasy, I wanted you to pull my skirt down whilst I stood above you. I wanted you to drag down my panties and play with my pussy. Did you realise that?"

"I suspected it. But I wasn't comfortable with making the first move - and with it being on office time."

"Yet you fucked me in the end? Was it good?"

"Yes, and I brought myself off again in bed that night, just recalling it."

"What did you see in your imagination?"

My arousal was deepening as she questioned me. My breathing got heavier and I was conscious that she could hear my heavy breathing through the telephone mouthpiece.

"I imagined attempting to strip you naked whilst you stood on that worktop. You changed your mind when I tried to remove your skirt, and you resisted at first. In my fantasy, you chickened out. But I forcibly pulled your clothes off your body. You didn't resist me, because you didn't want them ripped. I forced you to stay standing on the worktop-"

"Ah!"

Her loud, forceful gasp seem to pierce me through the earpiece. She was getting into the swing of it.

"Your naked bottom was at my face level. I prised your bottom cheeks apart and licked your pussy and clit. You pressed your palms against the wall to help keep your balance, and pushed out your bottom to make it easier for me to gain access. You were surrendering to my foreplay. I dragged you off the worktop and forced you to bend over it. I fucked you. You didn't resist. You had an orgasm too."

"Yes, umm. Some of that would have been true, except for my resistance. Did you have an orgasm in bed?"

"Yes."

"Are you ready to come again now?"

"I'm close. Are you fingering your pussy?"

"Yes."

"Are you naked?"

"Yes."

Her voice was like a breeze, sighing with her rising arousal.

"Do you remember the bareback horse ride?"

"Yes."

"How did you feel about being naked on Marshi?"

"I was incredibly aroused. I hoped that my stretched pussy and the constant rubbing of my clit on her back would give me an orgasm. I felt you watching me, getting excited by my nakedness. That increased my excitement. Did you enjoy it?"

"I remember it all. I wish we could have videoed it. I remember that Marshi turned her head to look at your naked body. I imagined your horse being as turned on as I was."

"Would you like to film my naked body?"

"It's one of my fantasies."

"What would you do with it?"

"I'd watch it at home, alone, and masturbate as I enjoyed looking at your naked body."

"Could we watch it together?"

"Yes."

"And would you fuck me whilst we were watching it?"

"Of Course."

"Do you want to fuck me now?"

"Yes."

"Go on then. Are you fucking me now, in your mind?"

"Yes, ohhh-I'm sinking my cock into your welcoming cunt."

My penis was tingling and my heart was pumping furiously.

Sylvia gasped as she pictured images in her own mind. "Ahh! I can hear your heavy breathing. I can see you there, your fist pumping your lovely thick cock. Can you feel how tight my vagina is?"

"Oh, yes, fuck! I'm close now. Oh, yes, ah, ah -"

"Yes, that's it, come on fuck me harder, make me come -"

"Ah, ah, yes, I'm coming, ah, ah, aaahhh. I've come!" Milky sperm fluid spewed out onto my cupped palm.

There was the briefest of pauses on the other end of the line.

There was a humorous edge to her voice. "So I hear. Do you want to do it again, for real?"

"Yes."

"So what would you say if I volunteer to look after the horses again for a long weekend, if you agree to come down to the farm and stay over with me. Agreed?

"Yes, just tell me when. Make it a weekend when my son is with his mother."

"OK. There's some unfinished business between us. I had plans, before everything blew up in my face. I just need to resurrect and rearrange them."

~*~*~

It is only now, when writing this, that I suspect that Sylvia had been implanting ideas to come to fruition at a time of her making. I was being led along on a course she had probably mapped out some time before, and it wasn't in pursuit of my pleasures alone.