index


Message-ID: <41501asstr$1048774202@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Spiller -" <spiller48@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} RP: The Gift. ch.1-6,(MF, mc, cheat)
Date: Thu, 27 Mar 2003 09:10:02 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d


This is adult material. If you are too young or you are forbidden
to read this kind of material, you should get off now.
................................................. 
Remember: Authors' only rewards are your comments. So please take 
a minute of your time to mail an opinion to: spiller48@hotmail.com
.................................................................
........


The Gift.

By Spiller.

Chapter one

  I cannot even contemplate how many times I have wished for that
secret gift, which would give me the power to manipulate people's
minds. I cannot even imagine, I should be the only one to harbour
such a wish.

  I know all too well where this fantasy originates. You see, I
am your 100% average man. Average looks, average brains, average
height and in every way a man of average success. I hardly need
to interpret to you, my dear reader, what that means.

Although I know that envy is one of the cardinal sins, I have to
confess to it. Oh, my, do I have to confess. Those horrible
teen-age years, when all the girls had their attention focused on
the tall guys, the handsome guys, even the fresh and the rough
ones, but never on young mister Average. That was the time I felt
those pangs of envy for the first time. Or  in college. When I
watched the guys with brains and money skedaddle through it all.
While I had to study hard to get my grades, they spent most of
their time at parties and in different beds, and when graduation
got closer they had picked the prettiest and sexiest of the
girls. I got laid one lousy time, and that was only because the
girl wanted to make a lost boyfriend  jealous. He did not notice,
and I got a lousy, pathetic lay.  Envy.

Graduation, job, applying myself to a `career' in a large
corporation. Where the guys with charisma, with the easy-going
charm, with the power to attract attention, stole all the
promotions, and left me right in the middle of the pyramid, where
nobody would notice me, as long as I filled my quota. Envyagain.

As the unproductive envy slowly seeped out of me, it was replaced
by a kind of reluctant acceptance. If this was the way it was
going to be, I had better come to terms with it and get on with
some kind of a life.

I met an average girl. Mary and I liked each other, got married,
settled down in a fairly nice house, and within three years we
had two average children. Our daily life was a comfortable
routine, and our love life was fairly satisfactory, though not
very spectacular.

That was the time when the fantasies started. First I toyed a
little with the idea of mind reading, but after some time I had
to admit, that I probably would not like to know what other
people thought of me. Then I read some books and short stories
where mind-control was part of the plot. The idea appealed to me,
and for a couple of years I liked to spend a little time, just
before falling asleep, choosing a person and then imagine, what I
should like to do to his or her mind. Great fun. Eventually my
imagination dried up, and for a short period the fantasies became
more like a sleeping pill because of the repetitions, and I
forgot about it.

Years later I became quite absorbed by the different ideas of the
afterlife. Suffice it to say, that one evening I visited a
spiritist `temple' in Copenhagen, and the medium brought me
messages from my deceased father. This was the first time I
visited the place, so he could not know who I was, but anyway he
told me details about looks, nicknames, family events etc. that
were so precise, they had to come `from the source'. I was
convinced. Days later I contacted this medium in order to learn,
if I could `receive' in the same way. I was told that it might be
possible, given  the circumstances, because a person `from the
other side', was trying to contact me. He set up a program of
meditation and training of my mind, to open up to messages which
were there, but which were unknown to most people. Eureka. In
only three months I received the first flashes of insight, and
one month later I would have short conversations with my father,
who had died when I was only 10. For fear of ridicule I kept all
this a deep secret, not even my wife knew anything, and for the
first time I had some use of my very average position in the
company pyramid: I could spend all my mental power on this
project, with no harm done to my so-called career.

 From our `conversations' I learned, that my father's wish to
make contact, was very strong. He felt, that by getting himself
killed in a stupid, self-inflicted accident, he had been a major
contributor to my utterly average life, not being there in my
formative years to enhance my confidence and courage, and he had
a strong wish to `do something' for me. Alas, it was much too
late to make any fundamental changes to my life, but when I
`told' him about my fantasies of mind control, he became very
enthusiastic. That was a field where he could do something for
me, although he warned me: To gain full control would take a long
time, but limited attempts might bring bits of sunlight into my
dull life, while I struggled to gain full control.

First he taught me to go through the same mental training I had
had, while I attempted to receive messages from `the other side',
only this time reversed: I was to send out `messages' of my own.
As soon as he felt that I had reached some kind of proficiency in
this field, he set out to teach me how to execute my first
attempts in mind control. As a beginner I should need skin
contact with the person I wanted to influence. Then I was taught
how to form images in my mind, which I could transfer to the
`victim' and then later connect to different centres of emotion.

I started out with my wife, who was the easiest person to achieve
skin contact with. I transferred an image of myself to her, which
I later connected to the emotions she would have in her abdomen,
so that all the many times every day, when sex crossed her mind,
it would be connected to my image. The result was evident in only
two days. She became much more focused on me, and for the first
time in years she took the initiative in bed. A week later I
planted the image of my lips and tongue on her cunt, and
connected it to her clitoris, and in just a few days she
straddled my face and demanded to be licked out. That was an
absolute first. My confidence grew, and I was ecstatic when I was
met with absolute success, gaining access to her ass for my
finger and my cock. At this time my father advised me to take my
new skill `to town'.

On his advice I transferred an image of hardworking me to my
wife, in order to assure peace on the home front, should I stay
out late, and I decided that Jannie should be my first target.
She is a luscious redhead who often visits a café, where I like
to listen to jazz, but she is 16 years my junior, and although we
will hug in a friendly way when we meet, she has never shown any
sexual interest. But I sure have lusted for her! Fortunately my
wife is no jazz fan, and over the years she has got used to my
going there about twice a month.

The next jazz evening I transferred my image to Jannie, and made
connections to her abdomen, vagina and clit. All this was done in
the few seconds we hugged, cheek to cheek, and then I went to the
bar and bought my first beer. Later I sat down at another table,
only to be joined by Jannie during the second intermission. We
danced a few dances, and when the band played their version of
`Take The A-Train', Jannie asked if I'd like to hear the original
recording - at her place, of course. I knew she lived only 3
minutes walk from the café, and before the band had finished
their gig, we were on our way.

In her apartment she poured us a couple of drinks, then she put
the CD on the player, and when `Take The A-Train' started, she
turned round, stretched out her arms and said: "Care to dance it
once more?" Jannie is almost as tall as I am, and her wonderful
body felt so soft and pliant, it was almost as if she melted into
me. In the privacy of her own apartment, her dancing was a lot
more sexy and suggestive, and for once I didn't hesitate taking
the initiative. When I reached in and opened the two top buttons
of her dress, I was met with a smile of approval, and half a
minute later she opened the last three herself. The top of her
breasts, which could be seen over her black bra, was a matte,
pearly white, with a few freckles on. What a sight. As my hands
caressed her body I could feel, that she was wearing panties and
stay up stockings, so I planted the image of her in underwear
into her mind. A little later she stepped away from me, opened
the belt of her dress, and soon she had pulled it over her head,
thrown it on an armchair, and then she melted into my arms again.
"Do you like to see me like this?" she whispered.

"No, I don't like it. I love it! You look gorgeous, Jannie, even
better than I had imagined." I hugged her close, grabbed her soft
ass with both hands and pressed her tummy against my erection.

I learned a lesson that night. A lot of the excitement was taken
out of it, if I made my control too detailed. While we were
hugging, rocking slowly in rhythm with the music, I transferred
an image of her, lying on her bed with only her stockings on, and
therefore it was no surprise to me, when she took my hand and
guided me to her bedroom, where she shed her bra and panties, and
lay down on her bed. I then and there decided not to use control
for the rest of the evening, unless something very specific
became important to me. Never fear. Jannie was one hot lady.
First thing I noticed was her shaven cunt, which is not that
common in Denmark. Second was her almost luminant, white skin,
but best of all was the look of wanton lust in her eyes.

In no time I was naked and stretched out beside her. God, I
needed to feel that naked, soft body against mine. I started
caressing her, but she whispered: "I've wanted you in me for so
long. Please fuck me."

"Just a second, Jannie. I've got to taste that lovely, plump and
naked cunt. God, you look sooo inviting." I kissed my way down
her body, till my mouth rested on that sweet, naked mussel. She
tasted wonderful, and she was really a woman worth sucking. There
was plenty of juice to drink, and just a few seconds of sucking
her clit got her going. All the time she let out the horniest
sighs and moans I ever heard. The sound of them went straight to
my cock! Soon she was making small humping motions, pushing her
cunt closer to my face, and at last she grabbed my head and tried
to push it up her cunt. At least that was how it felt. She
screamed her way through a violent orgasm and when it died down
she grabbed my hair and pulled.

"Up here, now. And fuck me. That was lovely, but I need your cock
now. Fuck me. Take meeee!"

How could I disobey such an order?  She was absolutely wonderful.
Her cunt was slippery and hot, but surprisingly tight, and again
she used those small movements from the dance. She felt so
absolutely vibrant and alive against my skin, the way she was
always moving some part of her body against me: Little twists of
her shoulders would rub her big breasts against my chest, or she
would squeeze her thighs rhythmically around my hips, and so on.
I could feel that I should not last very long in this hot woman,
but suddenly I remembered that I had overheard Jannie say, she
liked it a bit rough.

I grabbed her wrists and held them down hard above her head, and
then I started fucking her really hard: Fast and then slow, fast
again, but always slamming my pelvis down on her. The physical
strain of this would make me last a little longer, and Jannie
certainly welcomed it.

"Oh, Erik, you are wonderful. God, this is good." Her groans
turned into little whimpers and then small screams. She was such
a wonderful sight when I looked down at her body: Her rounded
tummy quivered and her big breasts were flying around on her
chest.

"AAAhhhh, Jannie, you are great. I'm going to come soon," I
groaned, as I was fucking her faster and faster.

"Oh, yessss, me too, aaaahhhhh, yessss, yessss." She was
screaming almost at the top of her voice now, and miraculously we
hit the ceiling together. Her orgasm was a violent affair, and I
felt like her tight cunt squeezed the last drops out of me, as I
collapsed on top of her.

I had let go of her wrists, and she threw her arms round my neck.
A little later she took my face between her hands and kissed me
all over, while she made little humming noises in her throat.
"MMmm, Erik, this was absolutely lovely. I wouldn't have guessed,
that an old guy like you could be such a good fuck. If I had, I
should have scored you years ago." Her kisses belied her words
about my age.

I kissed her back and said: "And I always thought you were too
young to be really good. If I had known, I might have made a pass
at you, then."

My very satisfied cock slipped out of her, and she put her hands
on my shoulders and gave me a little push. "Well, don't you think
you have better get home to your little wife, so she won't become
suspicious? Can't have her wondering too much, if I want to do
this again next time there's jazz at the café."

"But, Jannie, I feel a little lousy just getting up and out."

"Don't even think of it, Erik. As much as I loved this, I'd hate
to sleep with you. I'm not made for sleeping together. I prefer
to do that alone, with your smell and the memory to keep me
company."

Fifteen minutes later I opened my front door. As was usual after
a jazz evening, my wife had gone to bed, and I went directly to
the shower. Years ago she had complained that I smelled too bad
of smoke and alcohol, and it had become a habit to shower before
I went to bed. As I slipped under the covers she registered my
arrival, and she mumbled: "How nice of you to shower, dear. Was
the music good?" Before I even started to say something she was
asleep again.

What surprised me most was the fact that I felt no guilt or
remorse. After all, this was the first time I had been unfaithful
to my wife, but all I could feel was joy and satisfaction. I did
not want to get involved in a moral discussion with myself, and a
few minutes later I was fast asleep.


CHAPTER TWO.

  Next morning in my car, on my way to work, my father was there
again. "Good morning, son. Had some good fun last night?"

  "Sure. It worked fine. By the way, how do you know?"

  "I followed you. Wanted to see how you managed. By the way, I'm
happy you found out that you should not control down into the
details. Takes the fun out of it."

  "I'm not quite sure that I like the idea of you watching me."

  "Well, you can't blame me, can you? She was a gorgeous woman,
that Jannie."

  "She sure was. Not that I have many to compare her with. You
probably know, too, that besides my wife I've only had one lousy
lay in college."

  "I know. I know. But we shall remedy that, right?"

  "I should hope so."

  "Well, son, but if you want privacy sometimes, I shall have to
teach you how to reach out with messages and calls to me. That
will also enable you to perform control without skin contact. Can
you arrange for some privacy in the near future? It's going to
take some tutoring."

  "I could bring home some papers and pretend I have to work on
my computer for an hour or so every day. I'm sure Mary would not
disturb me, and I'd have the peace of my home `office'."

  "OK. I'll be with you around five. In the meantime you could
sow an image or two into that secretary of yours. I've followed
her around, and even if she is not your typical knockout, I can
assure you that she is one hot little lady. I watched her only 15
minutes ago. She has put on a new colour of nail varnish this
morning. Gives you an excuse to take her hand and admire it,
doesn't it?"

  Once again I was alone in my car. Phew. He would have to stop
popping up while I was driving. I had absolutely no recollection
of my driving the last ten miles!

  To a certain degree it was a bit of an overkill, when my father
had called Henny `my secretary'. I should have loved to be in a
position, which would have entitled me to a full secretary, but
the fact was that I had to share Henny with Mr. Larsen in
`claims'. She was mine only from 11 to 3 every day.

  All the years we had worked together I had never thought of
Henny as anything but an efficient and amiable secretary. All I
knew about her was that she was married and had no children.

  Now I was going to look at her differently. I could hardly
recall a picture of her from memory! Oh, yes, she had a sweet
smile which also reached her eyes. She was not very tall. That
was all! In a few hours I was going to exploit the fact, that
statistically all women think of sex at least 20 times a day.OK!

  The morning rushed by and suddenly it was 11 o'clock. Henny
entered my office with her usual "Good morning," though it was
hardly morning any more. While she picked up papers from `in' and
`out' trays I had a chance to look at her undisturbed. What I saw
was a woman around 40 years of age, which I knew very well to be
true. She was small and slim, but her broad shoulders and rather
wide hips made her look a bit square. There was not much in the
tit department, but it was hard to judge, because her blouse was
loose. But I had remembered right about her face. She looked kind
and pleasant in a non-sexy way, which was the way she looked when
she turned towards me, smiled and said: "This order, are you sure
it is all right? I remember last time we ordered from that firm,
they were 2 weeks late on delivery."

  She stepped up in front of my desk and handed me the order
form. This gave me the chance. I took the paper and also took her
hand. "Oh, I think you have a new colour on your nails today."

  "I say, Mr. Hansen, I never thought you would notice that kind
of thing."

  "Well, ordinarily I wouldn't, but this colour goes splendidly
with your skirt, that's why I noticed."

  Of course she could not know that, during this short
conversation, I had planted a prepared image of myself and
connected it to her abdomen, no specific centre of emotions, just
generally her abdomen, which by the way looked nice and flat
under her skirt.

  I let go of her hand and commented on the order. "This time I
have ordered delivery three weeks earlier than absolutely
necessary. A little bothersome for our people in stores, but the
price is very attractive and their quality is more than
adequate."

  The rest of the morning was quite uneventful, and as usual
Henny and I went together to the company cafeteria for lunch. I
wondered if she should sit down at my table, as she did a few
times every month. Today she did.

  It was impossible not to notice that she had changed a bit. She
was a lot more talkative than was usual, and a few times she put
her hand on top of mine, as if to emphasize something. I took
those chances to connect my image to her vulva and her clit, plus
I planted a few blurry, nondescript images of her, fucking. Talk
about `Speedy Gonzales', but the chance was too obvious to pass.

  The afternoon was a delight. Henny was a lot kinder than usual,
or rather, she was as kind as she usually is, but on top of it
she made little hints, she went closer to me than ever before,
and a few times she even leaned against me when she showed me
some papers. To be honest I really enjoyed myself. I was
definitely not used to such overt approaches from women, and I
couldn't help taking a little advantage of it: Once I put my arm
round her shoulders and hugged her a little while I told her she
had done a good job on a special contract.

  Shortly before closing time she came into my office again.

  "Erik, that meeting with the Johnston Company tomorrow has been
rescheduled. Something came up and they just called and asked if
we could be there at half past 12. I know it's during our lunch
hour, but I said yes, as I know you think this meeting is
important. Maybe we could grab a bite in town when the meeting is
finished?"

  "Sure, Henny. I'm happy you accepted." The idea of getting out
of the house with Henny was quite appealing, and I decided to
plant yet another picture in her mind, and then no more. I formed
an image of her legs and hips in stockings and suspenders, then I
took her hand: "You know, I haven't said it too often, but you
really are a gem for a secretary. I don't know how, but you seem
always to know what I would have done myself." I let go of her
hand.

  "Oh, Erik," she jokingly hit my shoulder with her fist. "The
way you talk to people one is never afraid to make a decision.
That's why I wished I could work for you all day."

  Phew, what a Monday. First the shock my father gave me in the
car, and then this day filled with sexual innuendoes. For once I
really enjoyed the ride back home. Until I remembered my `date'
with dad. This Monday turned out to be not at all so average for
this average guy.

  It was also quite unusual that Mary met me in the hall when I
entered the house.

  "Welcome home, dear. You look a little flushed. Had a hard
day?"

  "Oh, yes, quite busy. I didn't even get to finish the last
contracts, so I'll have to work a little before supper. Is that
OK?"

  "Sure, dear. Come on in, I just made your coffee. Would you
like a small whisky to go with it?"  Wow, for a reception. Not
since the first year of our marriage had she welcomed me this
way. I took my coffee in the living room, and shortly before five
I excused myself and went into my little `office' for my date
with dad.

  Right on time, precisely at five, he was there, in my head.
"Hello, son. Listen, you can't talk like you did in the car this
morning, but then you don't need to. I can read what you are
thinking. All right?"

  "All right. Then see if you can `read' this message: Please
don't get to me while I'm driving. I can't remember a thing about
my driving for the time you were with me. It's far, far to
dangerous."

  "I read you all right. Sure, just never thought of it. Well,
we've better get started."

  I shall not go into a lengthy description here. Suffice it to
say, that he started me on concentration exercises, forming an
image of him and erase all other thoughts from my mind. It was a
lot more difficult than I had thought. Our mind is cluttered with
huge amounts of information which we just don't pay notice to in
our daily life. Towards six o'clock he told me that I had managed
a very, very weak signal, but that I was on the right track, and
he'd visit me, same time, same place, on Wednesday.

  "Well, boy, I'll leave you to your own devices, but you sure
put the heat on that small office-thing. Watch out tomorrow. And
don't exhaust yourself too much tonight. Your wife is in the
mood, you know."

  God, how he irritated me. On the other hand I could not very
well be angry with him, could I? And he was dead right about my
wife. When I returned to the living room around six, she was
sitting in the sofa. She had changed her dress, and through the
thin material of her dress I could see that she was not wearing a
bra, but the telltale folds on her thighs showed that she was
wearing stockings and suspenders.

  When dinner was over she was very amorous, and already at half
past ten we went to the bedroom for a great fuck. No, I certainly
could not be angry with dad!

Chapter three.

  When Henny finally arrived in my office at 11 she was all
smiles and reminded me of the meeting with the Johnston Company.
We spent half an hour picking up all sorts of papers we should
need, and at half past eleven we left the office. On the way out
Henny called from the lobby to remind Mr. Larsen that she might
not get back in time for her hour in his office.

  When we got into my car I could not help looking at her legs,
and I was happy to notice that she was evidently wearing
stockings. Her skirt had moved up a little as she sat down, or
maybe she had moved it up? The dark edges of her stockings were
on display, and a sly, small smile was on her lips.

  The meeting was very successful. Once again I had to admire
Henny's efficiency. This prim and proper little lady always
seemed to have the right document in her hand, a minute before I
knew I needed it, and the expediency of our negotiations was to a
high degree of her doing. Shortly after one o'clock we sealed a
deal for 18 million dollars, securing us steady deliverances for
the next six months, at an extremely favourable price.

  As we walked across the parking lot in front of Johnston's, I
could not help but put my arm round her shoulder and say: "That
was an impressive piece of work, Henny. I have to admire how well
prepared you were, and the discreet way you guided me past
obstacles."

  "Well, thank you, sir," she smiled at me. "And now for that
lunch. I have a proposal."

  "I'm open."

  "Instead of going to some restaurant, we go to my place. I live
quite near, at the harbour, and I've prepared a little lunch,
which we can enjoy on my balcony."

  "What a perfectly nice idea. Your husband wouldn't protest that
you bring `work' to your home?"

  "He couldn't very well, as he is in Vancouver the next three
days. And I shouldn't consider you `work'."

  Her apartment was a very nice place. Bigger than I had
expected, but then her husband was an engineer, and I had no idea
in which income-bracket he was. Henny opened the doors to a
sunny, secluded balcony with a wonderful view of the harbour and
told me to sit down. Two minutes later she came out there with a
butler's table, where she had arranged a small, nice lunch
covered by glass lids, and a couple of tall drinks.

  "I took the liberty of making us a couple of Gin'n't. I like
that drink in the summer."

  "What a delicious idea. I like it, too. And after all we have a
contract to celebrate."

  It was not until she sat down in her chair opposite me, and we
raised our glasses to salute, that I noticed she had opened a
couple of buttons in her shirt. Her very pretty smile lightened
up her face as she said: "And we have all the time in the world.
I've prepared home office, and no one expects us to return today.
I said it was going to be a very difficult meeting, you know."

  The temperature on the balcony was going up, in more ways than
one. When we started eating the open sandwiches, I took of my
coat and loosened my tie. A little later I even rolled up my
sleeves. We had a cold beer and snaps with the sandwiches, and
while we were eating Henny flashed me a glimpse of her stocking
clad thighs. I felt sure that she did this on purpose. When she
got up from her chair to put away the plates, she flashed me very
openly once more, and I thought it was time to comment on it.

  "I may be stepping out of line, but I simply have to tell you
how lovely it is to see a woman wear stockings. It is one of my
favourites."

  "It's always OK to pay a compliment to a woman. Would you like
a better look?" I did not even get time to nod my head. Without
waiting for an answer she grabbed the hem of her skirt and lifted
up. She looked a ton better than I had expected. Slim, curved
thighs in shiny, black nylon,  a piece of very white skin, wide
straps holding her stockings, and a pair of ultra thin, pale blue
panties, showing off her trimmed cunt.

  "God, you look terrific, Henny. How come I have never noticed
these years?"

  "I don't know, Erik, but then, I never noticed you, either. Not
in that way, at least. So we're even." With a smile she dropped
the hem of her skirt and wheeled the table towards the kitchen.

  "I'll drop this in the dishwasher. Could you do with another
cold drink?"

  "I can't say if it's the sun or you, but I sure could do with
something cold."

  "Then come and get it."

  I followed her into the kitchen. She pointed towards the
refrigerator. "Help yourself and mix a Gin'n't for me."

  When I turned round to hand her the drink, I was met with an
astonishing sight: Henny had unbuttoned her blouse, showing off
her small, pointed tits, and with blushing cheeks she whispered:
"I hope I haven't misinterpreted you. I'd die if you reject me
now."

  I put the drinks down on the kitchen table and stepped up to
her. I took her into my arms and told her hair that she had not
misinterpreted me, that I thought she was absolutely ravishing,
and that right now I could think of nothing better than to get
naked with her and feel her body against mine. I pushed her
blouse down her shoulders while I felt her nimble fingers
unbutton my shirt and a little later fumble with my belt. In no
time skirt and trousers, shirt and blouse were off. I pulled her
panties halfway down her thighs, and then I grabbed her by the
waist and lifted her up, to sit on the kitchen table.

  It was as if we were consumed by a fever, as if speed was
vital; as if we were drowning, and the only rescue would be cock
in pussy. The moment I had pulled the panties off her legs she
threw those pretty, stocking clad legs round my hips, and leaning
back to support herself on her hands, she pushed and pulled her
ass to the edge of the table, placing her glistening cunt right
in front of my very hard cock. Fortunately the kitchen table was
tailored to her short body, which meant it provided an excellent
fucking height.

  God, I wish this first push into her could have been recorded,
so I could play it again and again. She was all the good things,
only ever so much more than I had known: Hot, wet, tight and
electric, and to top it off she let out a deep, long sigh, when I
reached bottom. The kind of sigh you let out on a hot summer day,
when you have finally had your first drink of ice cold water.

Suddenly we had all the time in the world. The fever left us, and
we could savour the exquisite feelings of this first fuck. Her
sweet smile returned to her face, as she pushed forward to meet
my every thrust. Her tiny, pointed tits quivered on her chest, so
I let go of her hips and moved my hands up to caress them. When I
pinched her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, a slow,
rolling orgasm started in her cunt, spread to her thighs and
belly, reached her head and her toes, and forced her to scream in
the most delicious way. The contractions of her cunt were so
strong and erotic, that they milked my own orgasm out of me. 
With a groan I grabbed her hips and pushed hard against her, till
I felt the bottom of her cunt against my cockhead, and I pumped
and pumped what felt like a gallon into her.

  When I had finished coming, she sat up straight, threw her arms
round my neck and buried her face on my shoulder, while I held
one hand round her back and the other on her head. It suddenly
dawned upon me that we had not even kissed, yet.

  "God," she whispered, "this was the best and fastest ever. Why
didn't we do this five years ago?"

  I grabbed her hair and pulled her head back. Then I kissed her,
tenderly and soft, and said: "Because five years ago neither of
us thought that way. But maybe we shall be doing it five years
from now."

  Her pearly, rippling laughter was music to my ears. "I might
suggest ten years, Erik." She pushed me away, so my softening
cock fell out of her, then she jumped off the table, grabbed my
hand and said: "May I invite his Lordship to my humble bed? I'm
sure we can find ways to spend an hour or two."


  We certainly found ways to spend two hours. I was happy that I
had not planted any specific images in her mind, for she treated
me to so many unknown pleasures, all out of her own will and
lust. My dad had been right: She really was a hot little thing. I
told her, and convinced her, that I thought she looked absolutely
lovely, ravishing and erotic, and she opened up like one of those
Japanese flowers, which look like a little piece of dried wood,
but when you put them into a glass of water they open up to a
many coloured beauty. Inhibition and shyness seeped out of her,
and for the first time I experienced that sex could also be fun,
joy, laughter and passion, all at the same time.

  Invariably we got close to four o'clock, when we would
ordinarily close down office, and after a nice, cooling shower,
she stayed naked while we said good-bye. I could not help telling
her once more, how much I was attracted to her slim, square body,
and her last words to me were: "From now on I shall always wear
stockings and suspenders, and if my skirt is below the knees you
might want to catch a peek, because then I shall have left my
panties at home. Would that please you, my Lordship?"

Chapter four.

  Driving home I once more wondered why I felt no guilt at all. I
did not get anywhere near an explanation, at least none better
than the fact, that Jannie and Henny both had been pure sex.
There was no love involved, and at the moment I could not see,
that they should pose any threat to Mary or to our marriage.
Except, maybe, that I might run into trouble living up to the
wishes I had planted in my wife.

  Mary again welcomed me with attention and kindness. I told her
about a tiresome day, but a successful one as well. The large,
very profitable contract was sure to get me some attention at the
company.

  "Well, dear, why don't you take a little rest in the bedroom. I
shall wake you up before dinner. Would that help?"

  "You are a very considerate wife, my dear. I think that would
be a perfect idea." Alone in the bedroom I had plenty of time and
opportunity to practice the things dad had told me yesterday, and
on top of it I managed a short sleep, which restored me
completely. So much so, that when Mary came to wake me up with a
kiss, I let my hand slide up her leg to feel the piece of naked
skin between her stocking tops and her panties.

  "Hello, dear. I must say, I really appreciate that you dress up
in this kind of underwear. I might even take advantage of it
after dinner."

  "You shall be most welcome, sir. Do you intend to take
advantage, or are you just going to enjoy?"

  What was SHE up to? This was not a thing I had planted with
her. I felt how my excitement was growing.

  "If I'm going to take advantage of it, I should like to tell
you to dine with me in your underwear." As I closed my mouth
round the last word I started to regret. This might very well be
too fast and too advanced. I didn't want to return to our sexlife
from one week ago.

  "Oh, how wicked. Underwear it shall be, sir," then she kissed
me once more and went back downstairs. I stayed on my bed for a
little while to think. This was taking on a momentum of its own,
which I had not at all expected. But I had to make a fast
decision. How was I going to live up to my words? I certainly
hoped she did not expect me to turn up as a Master, you know the
kind you read about, with a whip in his hand. I decided on a more
verbal version of this `taking advantage', and I quickly changed
into my formal black suit, white shirt and tie, and I had just
finished changing when she called from downstairs: "Dinner is
ready."

  In the dining-corner the curtains were drawn, and she had
bloody well done it! Shiny, black stockings, a lacy set of red
suspenders and wispy bra, plus the tiniest and most see-through
panties I had ever seen her wear. On her feet she wore a pair of
black pumps with a semi high heel. I have to admit that she has
kept her figure very well. Compared to a lot of women far
younger, she looked gorgeous.

  "I see you have dressed properly for dinner, too. What a nice
idea. Do you want a drink for a starter?" She was obviously
flirting with me, her husband, and the question about the drink
was not a question at all: She picked up a small tray with two
glasses of champagne and walked up to me.

  "Thank you, dear." I took my glass and raised it towards her in
the traditional salute. "I must say, it is the prettiest dinner
dress I have ever seen. You look marvellous, Mary."

  "Well, thank you, sir. You don't look half bad yourself."

  When we had finished our drinks I sat down on my chair and
ordered her to come up close. Unceremoniously I ran my hand from
her knee to her soft inner thigh, and then on to her pussy. The
tiny panties were delightfully damp, and when I rubbed them a
little she willingly spread her feet to give me room. I leaned in
and kissed the swell of her breasts and playfully slapped her
ass.  "Dinner?"

  "Coming up, sir." She went back and forth from the stove a
couple of times, and a fine risotto with a salad on the side was
placed in front of me. Each time she came near me I let a hand
exploit her scantily clad body. Finally she sat down and we
started eating.

  "This might easily become an addiction. I can see why Roman
emperors and nobility wanted half naked girls around their
tables. It's a pity I can't see through wood."

  "Oh. You want to see my legs while we eat?"

  "No. I'd tell you to put a hand down those tiny panties and
play with your pussy. Not of much use now as I wouldn't be able
to see it."

  She smiled and got up from her chair. Still smiling she slid
her hand down into the panties, and the thin material let me see
clearly how she pushed her middle finger in to touch her clit.
She made small, circular movements with it, and for a short
moment she closed her eyes in pleasure.

  "Was this what you had in mind, sir?"

  "Lovely, lovely. Please sit down again, or I shall never get to
finish this meal." A little later I said: "Tomorrow morning, when
I have left for work, I want you to go downtown. There is a large
furniture store, which imports Italian furniture. I want you to
find and buy a new dinner table. One with a thick glass surface.
Make sure that the glass does not distort the view, and make sure
that they are willing to deliver it tomorrow."

  "That store is terribly expensive, you know that, don't you?"

  "The sight of your legs and your hips is worth theinvestment."

  "My, what a sweet compliment, Erik. I gather then, that you'll
want me to dress for dinner like this, some other times?"

  "I most certainly do. But for now I shall settle for some hard
nipples. Pinch them and play with them right now."

  She was incredibly willing to do anything I told her. The
dessert was a fruit salad, and when I told her to sit on my knee
and feed me with a fork, because I wanted to play with her pussy,
she did it! She even grabbed a small towel and spread it over my
knee before she sat down.

  "I do not want to ruin your fine suit," she said with a wicked
smile. She was so sopping wet that she certainly would have
ruined my trousers. When she was about to feed me a tiny piece of
apple I interrupted her: "I think this bite could do with a drop
of exotic dressing. Can you provide?" Once again she surprised me
with her willingness. She bent her head and dipped the pice of
apple in her wet pussy. Then she fed me with the fork and kissed
me.

  For the first time since the early days of our marriage we went
straight from dinner to bed, and to say we had a good fuck would
be a gross understatement. Seconds before I fell asleep with
Mary's head on my shoulder, I thought: "I wonder what's
happening. None of this is of my doing. All I wanted was a little
more interest in sex."

Chapter five.

  The hours up to 11 o'clock when Henny arrived had been very
busy. After all we had been away all afternoon, Tuesday. At ten
o'clock the managing director of production, who was my immediate
boss, called to summon me to a meeting about the Johnston
negotiations. I asked him to postpone it till a quarter past 11,
as I wanted Henny to be present.

When she arrived, five minutes early, I barely got time to tell
her where we had to go. She entered my office with her usual
`good morning', then she turned round and closed the door. I
noticed immediately that she wore a long skirt, but before I had
time to think she came round to my side of the desk, lifted up
the hem of her skirt and said: "Care for a wet feel?"

  Did I care? She was so wonderfully juicy  and good looking,
that I really had to collect all my wits to get it said: We have
to be at Peterson's office in ten minutes! Get proper, woman!"

  Her pearly, ringing laughter was so typical of her. "OK, boss,
I guess it's the Johnston contract. I've got it here."

  Right on time we entered Peterson's office. Ordinarily he was
quite an arrogant bastard, but the Johnston deal was so good, he
forgot his arrogance and even uttered a few words of appraisal.

  "This is well done, Mr. Hansen. Seems like we could raise our
profits considerably by upgrading your buying department. Any
suggestions?"

  "Long term contracts like this one can be very favourable, if
we can achieve the right conditions. But in order to take real
advantage of the many bulk offerings on the market, I should need
much better information on logistics, especially concerning
stores. Like, which storerooms will be available for holding raw
materials and pre-produced parts, and for how long time before
production starts filling them up. It will demand at least
monthly meetings with different sections, and I should need my
secretary full time."

  "OK. Seems like you have given this some attention. How long
time would you need to prove yourself?"

  "A few weeks to do some planning, and then I'd say six to eight
months to make the raised profits turn up in accounting."

  "Sounds like a very sensible plan to me. About your secretary:
Would you need a new and younger secretary working full time?"

  "Certainly not. Mrs. Dalby is very efficient, and she knows a
lot about buying-techniques. I'd certainly prefer to have her
full time."

  "OK, Mr. Hansen, I'll give it a try. You'll have two weeks plus
8 months to prove yourself. Consider Mrs. Dalby your full time
secretary from this moment, and call me in two weeks when you
have a plan for the meetings you shall need. Fine work on that
Johnston contract."

  I have to admit that this was the most promising meeting I had
had in all my time by the company. Henny was quite happy, too.
She gave me a hug in the lift, going down to our own floor, and
the minute we were back in my office she kissed me and said: "Are
you sure you wouldn't rather have a new and younger secretary?"

  "And wait 6 years before I get to fuck her?"

  "Oh, Erik, you are such a hopeless romantic, aren't you?" She
laughed again. "But I wouldn't like you to change."

  "Are you sure you want to be mine, full time?"

  "At the office there's nothing I want more. Outside the office:
I sure want to be yours, part time, and I hope your passion will
last for years."

  For the rest of the morning and for a couple of hours after
lunch we caught up with the work at hand, and got started on the
planning. At three o'clock she stopped at the computer and came
round to me. "I want you to touch me, and then I want to show you
something." I touched her all right, and she finished off by
dipping a finger in her pussy and feed the glistening juice to my
mouth.

  She opened the door to a small, narrow storeroom at the back of
my office. "Nobody uses this room. See down there? That door
opens to a corridor on the other side of the building. I'm sure
the janitor can get me keys to these doors, and if we clean it
out and refurnish a little, it could be our official archive and
our unofficial fuck-room. You know, a wise fox has several exits,
and no one should raise an eyebrow if you came back to your
office from the archive, while I sneaked out the back door."

  "Wow, good thinking, Henny. I'd love for us to have a private
fuck-room. How about an initiation ceremony right now?"

  "Silly man. Much as I'd love to, it's much too risky. Neither
of us could afford the office gossip, if someone came into your
office and we both should come out of the storeroom. If you write
a note to the janitor that you claim the room for archives, he'll
even do the clearing out and cleaning, and refurnish, as you want
it. I'll take the note down to him as I leave."

  "God, Henny, you ARE a gem for a secretary  -  and a lovely hot
woman, too."

  While I went about and closed office for the day, I couldn't
help whistling to myself: `When you come to the end of a perfect
day..'.

  On the way home in my car I slowly cleared all this sex from my
mind and tried to focus on the upcoming meeting with dad, at five
o'clock.

  At home I was met with a hug and a kiss, and with two eager
hands pulling me towards the kitchen. Mary was almost dancing
with joy.

  "Ta-ta. There it is! What do you think?"

  I had forgotten all about the new table, but there it was, and
extremely elegant it was. And very see through. All stainless,
matte steel and a glass plate close to two inches thick!

  "That is a very pretty table, and very classy," I said with a
little fear in my voice. It looked like a million, which I
certainly hoped it was not.

  "Never fear, dear. It WAS very expensive." (I think that woman
has a built-in radar for my emotions) "But I did the nasty trick.
I overplayed my feminine charms and flirted shamelessly with the
owner. And finally I got him down to 1000 dollars.

  I think she overplayed her feminine charms with me, too. How on
earth would you explain I could feel relieved that she had just
paid 1000 dollars for a small dinner table! Mary sat down at one
end of the table, and I most certainly could see everything. Not
that she was dressed in any provocative way, but still I could
see her dress, her knees, her...everything.

  It is a very, very fine table. You are as good a buyer as I am.
And I'm sure you'll look just delicious in your special evening
dress tonight!

  We had our coffee at the glass table. By the way, we sat on the
chairs that went with the table: Four stainless steel things at a
hundred and fifty dollars each. They were more comfortable than
they looked, but they looked really great with the table. I told
Mary about my attempt at expanding my branch, and that Henny had
become my full time secretary. When I got up to go to my `office'
to work a little overtime on the computer, Mary kissed me with
enthusiasm and congratulated me.

  I did not have to wait long for dad.

  "Hi, son. Congratulations. I paid a little attention yesterday,
and actually a very weak signal reached me while you were
practicing. You may become very good at this."

  "Thank you. It's shutting out all other thoughts that give me
the biggest problem. I find it a little easier to concentrate and
to think harder."

  "Maybe because you haven't worn out your brain these last
years..ha, ha."

  "Ha, ha, to you !"

  "Any success with your office lady?"

  "Absolutely. And you were right, she sure is hot."

  "Mmm. I knew. She spends a lot of time in the company of her
right hand, you know. She only needed to have the direction
changed."

  "She was delightful, and she's going to be more so in the near
future. But say, how often do I have to refresh the focus of her
mind?"

  "Tsk, tsk. Do you really know that little about women, or are
you just being coy?"

  "I have to admit, I don't know much. Not much experience. You
know that."

  "Yeah, I know. Partly my fault, isn't it?"

  "I don't know."

  "Well, boy. She will not need any refreshment. Once her passion
has been directed to you it will stay, as long as you make sure
you stoke her fires. Be attentative, cultivate her longings, and
above all, never take her for granted. Keep her satisfied and
horny at the same time, and she'll be there for you, not for the
image you planted in her. You'll have to tamper with her mind,
though, if you want to get rid of her, or if there is some
specific kink you want. Think of Mary. The images you planted are
gone now. She's horny for you. She's had a couple of wonderful
fucks with you, and she just wants more. Have you noticed her
attitude lately?"

  "Yes. She kind of calls me Sir, and all."

  "She wants you to take control. If you had done that 15 years
ago she'd have been just as passionate."

  "I'm not sure I'm into that SM business at all."

  "That's not what she wants. She wants you to be a man and to be
in charge. She wants to be swept off her feet, to be surprised,
overwhelmed, shocked... you name it. She wants you!"

  There was a little break in the flow of his thoughts.

  "As you get better and better at this mind-control, I certainly
hope that your confidence in yourself will grow. That's what you
need most, and that's why I have wanted so much to get in contact
with you. I feel it's my fault for getting myself killed."

  "You certainly have achieved a lot. I feel a lot better about
myself than I did six months ago."

  "I see that, and it makes me happy, because I can see an end to
this searching. I shall love to be able to relax and just be
there if you call me."

  "What's your lesson for today?"

  "No lesson. A small test to see if your signal is gaining
power, that's all. You are on the right track, and you know, 99%
of this has to be of your own doing."

  I concentrated very hard on sending him a message, and after a
few minutes he broke in and told me I was much better, that I
should continue my exercises, and that he'd return sometime
Sunday, when he could see I was alone. At last he wished me an
exciting evening.

  "Mary is getting ready for a hot evening, and my only advice
would be to exploit it. Be naughty and a bit dirty towards her,
and she'll love you for it. Just give her the orders, and she'll
take off from that. Good luck."  And I was alone in my office
again.

Chapter six.

  She looked ravishing when I entered the kitchen. If someone had
told me six months ago, that I should see my wife at the stove,
dressed in a see through corselet, red stockings and high heeled
gold sandals, I'd have said he was crazy. But there she was, all
curved legs and high ass because of the heels, and wavy hair
hanging loose to her shoulders. When she turned round to welcome
me, she revealed that she had also applied a very sexy make up.
It also showed that her pussy was not naked, as I had believed
when I saw her bare ass, it was covered in a G-string.

  "Hi, luv'. Dinner is ready in ten minutes."

  "Fine. You look great, Mary. I'll go and mix us a drink. You
can take time to have a drink with me, can't you?"

  "Certainly, Sir. This will wait in the stove for as long as we
wish."

  "Sit down, then. I shall make us two appropriate `Bloody
Mary's."

  The new dinner table was a perfect idea. When I placed her
drink in front of her I watched her legs through the glass. I
leaned down to kiss her, and though she was wearing a discreet
perfume, an unmistakable scent of horny pussy hit my nose. I sat
down at the side of the table to be nearer the sight of her sexy
body.

  "Cheerio, dear. I see the furniture shop was not your only stop
in town. Looks great on you."

  "Cheers. Yes, I thought I'd like something special for our
first dinner at the new table. I hoped you'd like it, Sir."

  "Oh, but I do. You look very erotic and a bit whorish. Lean
back a little. I want to see your pussy."

  Immediately she leaned back and pushed her ass closer to the
edge of the chair. That put her pussy on full display, plus the
slightly darkened gusset of her G-string. She had to be
deliciously wet. I went to the top drawer in the kitchen table
and picked up a pair of scissors.

  "There you are. I want you to trim your pussy. You'll look a
lot more sexy in that G-string, without long curls on thesides."

  "Oh, dear. I didn't give it a thought. Do you want me to do it
right now? Here? In the kitchen?"

  "Sure. I want your pussy to look its best for our first dinner
at the new table. I'll even brush off the snippets when you have
finished doing it."

  "Yes, Sir, if that is your wish." She took a sip of her drink,
pushed her chair backwards and put her left leg up on the seat.
Her look of concentration, as she held her G-string to one side
and snipped away with the scissors, was great. When she reached
her lips it was clear to me that she was in a bit of trouble.

  "Erik, I can't very well do it all, this way. The chair makes
me sit on it."

  I got up from my chair, lifted her out of her chair and put her
down on a part of the kitchen table, which was free. Then I took
the scissors from her hand and said: "You want me to do the rest,
don't you?"

  "Oh, yes, please, that would be kind of you, Sir."

  "Spread wide, then."

  Deliberately I did the trimming in a very matter-of-fact way.
No sexy touches. When I had finished, I brushed her off with my
hand and later dried her off with a damp towel. I slapped her ass
jokingly and helped her down from the table.

  "That's it, love. I really like your new look."

  "Mmmm. It feels good, too. I might go further and shave it one
of these days, if you'd like that."

  "I'm sure I shall, but this is fine for now. Do you want a hand
with the dinner?"

  "No, thank you. I'll get the plates ready now."

  "Fine. Then I'll sit down and enjoy the sight of your naughty
ass and your trimmed cunt."

  I really enjoyed it. Every man ought to have his dinner served
by a willing and well-shaped woman dressed this way. When she
brought my plate and placed it in front of me I grabbed her pussy
and fondled it. I turned a little on my chair so I could caress
her soft thighs with one hand while I still rubbed her soaked
G-string with the other. Then I pulled her G-string down her
thighs, and while she supported herself on my shoulders, she
lifted her legs one at a time so I could get it off.

  "Your cunt is lovely wet, dear. I think I've better go and get
one of the small pillows from the sofa for you to sit on, or I'm
sure you'll make your new chair greasy."

  "That's nice of you. But do you have to talk that naughty?"

  On my way to the sofa and back I thought of dad's advice:
Naughty and dirty. Her last question was not a question at all,
it was bait.

  "No, dear, I do not have to talk dirty, but I like it, and you
look so lovely naughty and wicked that you make me want to do a
lot of nasty things with you. Take that as a great compliment."

  "Yes, Sir, and thank you, Sir."

  She sat down on the pillow, and certainly it made it easier for
her to put her pussy on display. When we had had a few sips of
wine and a couple of bits of the dinner I said:

  "Please, pass the salt, and spread your legs."

  She handed me the salt, then she leaned back in the chair and
spread her legs wide.

  "That looks great. If you push your plate a little to the
right, I'm sure you can eat for a while with only your right
hand, because I want you to play with that lovely, trimmedcunt."

  She blushed a little, but she did it anyway. First the plate a
little to the right, and then her left hand down between her
spread out thighs. I saw her middle finger push in between her
lips and then move up to touch her clit. For a short moment she
closed her eyes in ecstasy.

  "Open your eyes and look at me, while you do it. You have
bought us this wonderful table, and now you must live it up to
it. Show your husband that you love to perform for him. Right?"

  "Right. And I shall do it, I shall look at you. Only I wouldn't
have bet a single penny on you liking it. It has been a fantasy
of mine for years, to show off for you."

  "For me, or just to show off."

  "For...you, Sir."

  "Now, be honest, at least while you are dressed like mywhore."

  "To be honest?  To show off. Mostly to show off for you, but
sometimes also to strangers.... God, Erik, you make me say these
terrible things, and I get so wonderfully horny."

  "Your cunt is nice and wet?"

  "No, it's wickedly sopping wet."

  "Rub it, now. Rub it and make yourself come. For me."

  It was such a decadent thing to do: To continue eating little
bits and taking sips of my wine, looking through the glass table
at her fingers working in her cunt. Every time I looked up into
her eyes it was almost as if it gave her an extra kick. She would
groan and pant, and finally she exploded in a violent orgasm. She
was unable to control her movements, and her right hand hit her
wineglass and pushed it to the floor. Her thighs quivered, and
she rocked her ass violently on the seat.

  I got out of my chair and went up to her. Quickly I lifted her
out of the chair and lowered her to the floor. While the last
contractions ran through her I unzipped my fly, pulled out my
very hard cock and pushed it into her in one violent push. I
grabbed her wrists and held them down above her head, and then I
fucked her hard and fast, without any finesse at all. It was very
erotic that I couldn't feel her skin anywhere. The only place we
had naked contact was cock in pussy.

  Mary loved it, at least that was what she screamed! She had
hardly come down from her self-induced orgasm when her next one
started to build. The harder I slammed into her, the wilder she
thrashed under me, and the louder she groaned and screamed. My
wild fucking pushed her across the kitchen floor. When her head
hit the kitchen table I had to let go of her hands so she could
use them to hold  herself off the table.

  At last I heard and felt her come again. "Oh, my God, Erik, I
love it, I love it," she screamed, and when her cunt contracted
violently around my cock, I came too. God, she had turned into a
wonderful fuck in these few days.

  It took us a few minutes to calm down. A few minutes spent
kissing and caressing. Finally we got up from the floor. She
looked at me like I had never seen her do it before. There was
love and passion and abandon in her eyes, and I told her how much
I liked my `new Mary'. We left the kitchen as it was and spent
the rest of the evening and night in bed.

To be continued.......














_________________________________________________________________
Send søde postkort til søde mennesker http://www.msn.dk/postkort 

------- ASSM Moderation System Notice--------
This post has been reformatted by the ASSM
Moderation Team due to inadequate formatting.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> |
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html>  Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d, look for subject {ASSD}|
|Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+