I Call Her AmybyNakod Apa©
The morning rush hour was past but still the traffic flowing from airport to town that Friday remained heavy. Not that our slow, stop-go-stop progress bothered me unduly since I was already late. However Paul Strafford, the corporation's Personnel Manager ("Vice-President for Human Resources" in new-speak) kept interrupting our conversation to complain bitterly over every minor delay.
It was, perhaps, a measure of their board's desperate need for my expertise that he had himself come to meet me off the aircraft; or perhaps he felt his personal intervention could somehow recover the two days I had lost being stranded by the air traffic controller's strike.
He sat beside me in the back of the corporation limousine - an overweight businessman with sandy hair and surprised eyebrows, soberly dressed in a dark grey suit with matching waistcoat and turn-ups on the trousers. A total contrast to my black cargo pants; beige, long sleeve knitted shirt, and brown, soft leather jacket - I've learned to dress for comfort when travelling.
'How long do you expect to take?' He asked.
'You can never be sure,' I said. 'It depends what I find. I had hoped to finish the initial survey by the weekend after next, but with this additional delay I guess it'll now be about the end of the month.'
'And how soon after that can we expect the rescue plan?'
'Not long. In these matters time is vital.'
He grimaced. 'Don't we know it. Much longer and the shareholders will start hearing rumbles. . . . Incidently, I've arranged for you to have the use of one of the apartments we keep for visiting VIPs. It'll give you greater freedom to plan your schedule.'
In the circumstances I'd have thought that I rated VIP status. Perhaps I did and he couldn't express himself well.
'I expect you'll want to lunch in the director's dining room and eat out for your other meals, though there is a kitchen in the apartment and the housekeeper will stock the fridge for you - if you tell her what you want. Alternately we have a cook on call if you wish to entertain anyone.'
'Talking of entertaining, if you feel the need for female company of an evening it can be arranged. Just let me know your preferences, I'm sure I can find a satisfactory lay for you on our list. Indeed there are several I can personally recommend.'
I was surprised. Not by the offer, that was pretty standard for an important client or consultant to big business, but by the admission that Strafford himself carried out quality checks on the girls they retained. I'd had him pegged as a Grundyite who accepted the propriety of a frigid spouse dutifully allowing him to penetrate her once a week; the result being the standard two point four offspring. It seemed I had underestimated him; that he was a closet libertine.
I was tempted, especially since I'd been pretty celibate for a while now, it being ages since I met a woman I really fancied. Maybe I was just getting older but I'd come to find that no matter how conventionally attractive a woman was, nor how well endowed - often the same thing - in itself that just wasn't enough; there had to be something else, something in her personality that clicked. I wanted to feel not only lust but also affection; this I was unlikely to do for a professional lay, so I decided to refuse.
'Thank you for the offer Paul, but these days I've become rather particular. I prefer to pick them myself. Perhaps later.'
'Up to you. Maybe you'll see something that suits you round the offices. If so, let me know. Assuming she's on the permanent staff then there's a good chance I'll be able to persude her to put out for you.'
I rather doubted that would happen, which just goes to show that even the most perspicacious of us can be wrong because it was barely a couple of hours later that I found Amy.
Strafford was giving me a brief familiarisation tour of the administrative department when I noticed this winsom pixie with oversize spectacles, black slacks, a white blouse that had the top three buttons open and a spiky hairdo that said more about domestic economies than a stylists craft.
She was standing bent over a desk, the effects of gravity giving any casual observer - me - a great cleavage display. I could see she was gloriously endowed, and her thighs good and slim as well, but it was a tingling and stirring of my cock that told me she possessed that rare something extra that I hadn't found for many a month.
She looked up, thoughtfully regarded me, then caught my eye and gave an impish grin. She had me hooked, though I might still wriggle off, since too often I have found a poor voice can subvert the finest shape.
Leaving Strafford discussing a point with the office manager I moved toward her and asked what she was doing, but paid little heed to the words of her answer; it was the soft, southern lilt that captivated me, together with the way her eyes locked onto mine. This was a hook I had no wish to escape from.
When I rejoined the other two the office manager looked at me and smiled, 'I see you've already noticed our main distraction.'
Quickly I dissembled to cover my interest. 'Sure, that's part of why I'm here, to check for anything that detracts from your operating efficiency.'
His grin said he'd heard that one before. 'Well checking her's as far as you'll get. We've all tried to get in her panties but she just ignores us.'
'Does she now.'
You can't succeed if you never try, so I turned to Strafford. 'Reference our discussion in the car, I was wrong. She could be just the one I'm looking for.'
'Like them young and skinny, do you?'
Young, yes - what man does not like them fresh and nubile - but not skinny. To me she was slim or slender, but then I've never been one for broad hips and fat arses. 'Yes, but well presented,' I told him, diplomatically.
'I didn't think it would be very long before you found one to suit. I'll look into it for you when I get back to my office.' He was cynical.
'If you would,' I returned to the task in hand hopeful of an interesting evening.
Toward the end of the afternoon I returned to the apartment I had been allocated to find that a note from Strafford had been slipped under the door. It reported that the girl's name was Adeke Stark and that she was not a permanent employee but a holiday substitute working through the summer to earn enough to fund her studies at university. Stafford wrote that he would suggest she might find it profitable to share my solitary leisure time though, as she was only a temporary employee, he was unable apply much pressure and so couldn't guarantee that she would be willing.
I hoped she would. Maybe it was only the change of scenery, but for once I felt I had found a woman I wanted. Not that there was much I could do until I heard from him, so I set about unpacking my cases and getting organised for the three weeks or so I anticipated my survey would take.
The door bell rang. It was the girl.
Standing there, head slightly bowed she said nothing. Neither did I.
Dressed now in white shorts and a green cropped top that contrasted nicely with her auburn hair she was taller than I remembered - a mere three inches or so less than my five foot ten. She wore a light, gold, slave chain around the right ankle of her long slender legs. A forecast, I hoped, of our forthcoming relationship.
I gestured her into the apartment and directed her to the lounge. Following behind I savoured the tight arse below the narrow waist. Then, as she tentatively lowered herself onto the couch, I slipped to the small kitchen and collected a bottle of Chardonney. Pouring two large glasses I gave her one.
To one side was a recliner and footstool. Pushing the stool close in front of the couch, I sat and, for several silent minutes, studied my quarry.
The merry smile and mischievious twinkle in her eyes had disappeared, yet still she remained exceedingly desirable. It wasn't just the large hazel eyes behind the glasses or her pouty, kissable, bee-stung lips. There was an elegance about the way she held herself; proud of her slender body and young edible boobs. There was an intelligence in her eyes and something more, something I couldn't define, that made me want not just her body but also her company.
Under my silent gaze she appeared nervous - almost fearful, with an aura of vulnerability that stirred me to protect and care for her.
'Mr Strafford explained what you are to do?' I said at last.
Timorously she looked down, hiding her eyes. Her voice was low. 'I'm to be your woman, to please and entertain you.'
'You don't sound over-enthusiastic.'
'I'll do whatever you want.'
I took a sip of wine. 'So, what did he offer to persuade you?'
She stirred uneasily. 'He promised that if I pleased you the corporation would sponsor my studies until I graduate. I would have no more money problems.'
'And if you said no?'
'He would dismiss me and make sure I never work again in this town.'
'I see he hasn't left you much of an alternative but to agree. We'll have to make sure that when I leave I can give him a good account of your willingness and competence.'
'Oh! I hope so. Please, sir.'
'Not sir, Alec. And I'll call you Adeke. . . no, that won't do. I can't see me gasping Adeke! Adeke! Adeke! as I come. I think I'll just call you Amy.'
'If you say so . . . Alec.'
'Right then, just remember you do whatever I tell you.'
Apprehension turned her mouth down. I hurried to reasure her. 'It'll be all right. I'm not an ogre, nor am I particularly kinky, and I want you to enjoy your time with me. Now, how often do you sleep with your boyfriend?'
She jumped slightly. 'I . . .I don't.'
'You've got a boyfriend?'
'Not a regular one.'
'And you've never put out for one?'
'N . . never.'
'It sounds as if you could still be a virgin. Are you?'
She blushed and studied her hands. 'Yes.'
'No problem - it could even be an advantage.' This was a real slice of luck since it meant that safe sex was not an issue and I wouldn't need to bother with condoms.
She said nothing for a moment. Then, 'I'll try to please you.'
'Of course you will. . . . . '
Leaning forward I rested my hands on her knees. Her flesh was smooth and warm as I slowly eased them apart then reached in and stroked the soft inside of her thighs - from her knees, up the legs of her shorts to the constricting fabric of her panties, and back again.
She said nothing. Anxious, yet also diffident she continued to avoid looking directly at my eyes.
'Don't be afraid. What could be more natural than a man and woman giving each other pleasure. If we take the trouble to get it right we'll both delight in the other.'
As she glanced up to see if I meant what I said I moved to sit beside her on the couch. Gently I put my arms around her and pulled her close. Momentarily she stiffened then realised she'd made her choice when she rang my door bell. She relaxed and nestled into my arms like a small furry animal. Her face was soft under my lips, her breath sweet when I found her mouth.
I smiled at her. 'We've plenty of time. There's no rush. Anyway I've still got a trace of jet-lag. So I feel a quiet, stay-at-home evening would be best to start with. It would give us a chance to get acquainted. What do you think?'
'If you say so.'
'That's agreed then. . . . Now, I was about to have a shower. . . and also a shave if I'm not to scratch your fair flesh with my bristles. So why don't you go and get under the water while I scrape my face, then I'll join you and we can spend some time discovering what each of us has to delight the other. After that we can eat and explore our minds, see what we have in common.'
One last caress and I rose and took her hands. Hesitantly she let me pull her to her feet. Suddenly I was hit by a bolt of desire - I couldn't wait. I wanted her now.
'Hold on a moment,' I said. 'On second thoughts, before you rush off with such wild enthusiasm let me unwrap you, see what you've brought for my pleasure.'
She wavered. Again I sensed a slight reluctance, an apprehension in her. Why?
I moved close and carefully removed her glasses, placing them on the coffee table. 'Do you really need these?'
'For detail work,' she said, softly.
Why do glasses give a woman an air of vulnerability? Is it because it suggests a slight blemish? All the more enamouring since we find it difficult to live up to total perfection.
'I think I prefer you without.' I said, cupping her cheek with my palm. 'You really are beautiful.' I leaned forward to press my lips gently on her eyes. Instead her face tilted up and our mouths met in a slow kiss. Her lips were warm and her body soft under my touch.
My breathing wavered slightly, my hands caressing her shoulders were unsteady - I seemed to feel a myriad of small feet, insects, scurrying across my back. Who was this woman, this girl I had only just met, and what was she doing to me.
When we broke apart her eyes looked deep into mine as my fingers moved of their own accord; found the bottom of her crop-top and leisurely drew it up and over her head revealing a simple white cotton bra - so mundane, yet on her so sexy. Reaching round I unfastened the catch and slid it down and away allowing her entrancing young breasts to billow proudly from her slender form. Shyly she crossed her arms over their bare mounds until, leaving her top and bra to fall unheeded to the carpet, I gently took her wrists and pulled her arms wide.
Over the years I have been lucky enough to sample many a delectable boob, but never before has a pair promised such delight - their full, convex lower curves rising sharply to meet concave upper slopes at long, dark, sky searching nipples set in wide brown areoles.
I cupped each full, soft mound, my thumbs stroking their neat points. She sighed and demurely lowered her head. For several minutes we just stood, all my feelings and senses concentrated on the joyous weight in my palms. Finally I dropped my lips to a nipple and tasted her. She gave a quiet moan and held my head in her hands as first my tongue toyed, and then my lips sucked, her bud.
My free hand caressed the satin skin of her belly, found the waistband of her shorts and unzipped them. A slight nudge of her flaring hips and the cloth floated down to her feet. Her panties were also plain white cotton, matching her bra - almost passion killers. They would have to go. Leaving her tits for a moment I knelt in front of her, gripped the offending fabric at the sides, and in one quick jerk dragged it down to the floor. Her lush pussy hair was a slightly darker chestnut than that of her head.
I looked up into her face. She was gripping her lower lip between her teeth; a solitary tear stained her cheek.
'Why so glum?' I asked. 'You grow more and more desireable by the moment.' I stroked her bush, 'But this needs trimming. I just hate to have hairs caught between my teeth.'
Lifting first her right foot then the left, I pulled the shorts and briefs from around her ankles to leave her standing before me, legs apart and naked except for the gold slave chain.
Seeing her so vulnerable my desire was unbridled. Her flesh was so soft and smooth I couldn't resist caressing her - but gently, oh so gently and delicately, as if she was a doll that would break in my hands. I let my finger tips glide up the inside of her lithesome thighs, barely touching, just hinting at the holding and caressing to come. I felt an overwhelming need to possess this lovely young thing, to make her total mine, to start a new life within her.
She seemed uncomfortable, timid and - yes - somewhat apprehensive under my lustful observation, possibly at the contrast between my fully clothed form and her nudity.
Reaching for her pristine pussy my fingers spread her open, explored her, teased her clit. Then I pushed a middle finger up inside, pumped it in and out, giving a taste of what she would feel when I took her. She moaned and flushed.
Soon she was wet so, withdrawing my fingers, I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bedroom where, sweeping the sheets and blankets to the floor, I laid her reverently in the middle of the bed.
Lost in a sea of joyous emotion I struggled to keep her needs formost in my mind - I must be gentle, I must not hurt her, she must enjoy losing her virginity as much as I was going to enjoy taking it. But I was ethralled by her beauty. I wanted her. I needed her. Now!
She lay quiet, resigned, a picture of vulnerability as she waited for me to deflower her. I stepped back and tore off my shirt, my shoes and socks, my trousers and underpants. At last I was naked, filled with a primitive desire to possess and own this enthralling, willing creature. Stepping to the bed I saw she was looking at me with a mixture of expectation and shyness.
I lowered myself onto her. Then, taking her by the arms, I pulled her tight, those firm breasts pressing into my chest. Ravenously my lips claimed her mouth which parted under my probing tongue as if she were hungry for my kisses.
Putting my hands beside her shoulders I raised myself to free her beautiful boobs, then spread soft kisses down her throat, across her shoulders and onto her mounds. We both moaned as my circling tongue found her nipples, prompting them to peak. She was giving herself to me, surrendering to the force of my lust.
My staff rock hard against her fresh young crevice, she instinctively spread her legs wider, raising her knees alongside my hips, freely offering her maidenhead to my impatient manhood. As I made a tentative first entry she locked her feet behind me offering me admission.
With one swift thrust I pushed as hard and as deep as I could, filling her all at once. She gasped as I broke her hymen. Her nails dug into my shoulders as I stretched unused muscles to their limit. Raising her hips she clamped herself tightly around my shaft, taking me deeper.
Smoothly I ploughed in and out, tilling her nubile body, rejoicing in the soft, throaty moans as she tightened her arms. Closer and closer she approached her climax, until suddenly her first orgasm took her with an overpowering blast.
As I continued driving into her pristine cunni she forced her nails still deeper into my shoulders. She arched up to me, wanting me to ride her faster and harder, saping my will to hold back. I was beyond gentleness, I had lost the battle for control; my body was tingling with delight. Hoarsely I cried her name - 'Amy! Amy! Amy!'
I felt a strength, a power, a desire to crush her to me and possess her very soul. My animal appetite gripping me and with one final, mighty thrust my seed erupted into her clutching cavity.
Emotionally exhausted, never wishing to leave, I collapsed onto her chest, breathing hard, my temporary madness slowly ebbing. I hadn't taken a woman so fervently since the early days of my now defunct marriage.
'Please, you're heavy,' she said.
I rolled to one side. 'Sorry, I forgot.' Mentally I castigated myself for my selfishness. 'Did I hurt you? I got somewhat carried away.'
She started to relax, her body soft against my side. As she laid her head on my shoulder my hands left her waist and I wrapped my arms about her.
'Just a little. But it was worth it. I never thought it would be like that,' she said.
'Now you know why I said there was nothing to be afraid of.'
'Oh, yes, I wanted to believe you. I know it was silly but being the first time I was just a bit frightened.'
'It's never silly to fear the unknown.'
She sighed and settled closer to me. 'But did I please you? I know I wasn't very good - you deserve better. I so want to please you. Show me how.' That note of apprehension was back in her voice.