index


Message-ID: <42534asstr$1053421805@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Spiller -" <spiller48@hotmail.com>
Mime-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} <non archive>  RP: The Gift, part one (mf,mc,cheat)
Date: Tue, 20 May 2003 05:10:05 -0400
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. Envy 
again.

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 off 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 the investment."

	"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 the sides."

	"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, trimmed cunt."

	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 my whore."

	"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.


Chapter seven.

	Days passed in a blur. At times I felt like I was passenger on a bus, which 
had lost the brakes. Mary and Henny kept me pretty busy, especially after 
the `archive' was finished the following Wednesday; on the other hand I 
worked very hard with dad and his exercises. He really was an excellent 
teacher and a nice guy. Actually I thought one day: "I wish I had had him 
for a father."

	"I read that, my boy, and thank you for the compliment! You know, that was 
what I had in mind when I wanted so much to get in contact with you."

	A couple of days before the scheduled meeting with Mr. Peterson, Mary and I 
had had a very lovely session in our bed. We fell asleep, Mary with her head 
on my shoulder, but later in the night I woke up. For a while I just enjoyed 
the heavy cloud of happiness and satisfaction, which was hanging in the 
room; Mary's steady breathing, and my own sense of contentment, which was so 
new to me.

	I could feel that I was not going to fall asleep right away, so for 
exercise I gathered my wits and sent out a message to dad. It was a great 
surprise that a minute later he was there.

	"Congratulations, son," he `said'. "I received that message, and I was not 
at all thinking of you. You really have advanced a lot faster than I thought 
possible."

	"Thank you. I have worked hard on it, though, that may be the reason."

	"Yes, I have followed you now and then, but your hard work has paid off, 
plus you must have abilities far beyond average. By the way: Why did you 
summon me?"

	"Not for any special reason, dad. I was just feeling happy, and I thought 
you ought to know. So I tried. Hope I didn't disturb you in anything 
important."

	"No, no. Never fear that. I'm ready any time. But I have to admit one 
thing, though."

	"What's that?"

	"I wish you wouldn't call me when you're naked with that lovely, horny 
woman you've got there."

	"Oh, why?"

	"She's sending out such strong emotions through you, that this dirty old 
man gets quite improper feelings of his own. It might make you jealous, if 
you are so inclined. There, now you know it."

	"Ha, ha. Stirring earthly longings in you? Well, I'm not the jealous type, 
at least not any more. I guess my growing confidence is responsible for 
that. But if she distracts you too much I can go down into the living room. 
I want to talk a little more, now that you're here."

	"That would be a good idea."

	I managed to get out of bed without waking up Mary, and from the big 
armchair I told him: "I think I shall need some advice, if you'd say I'm 
getting closer to control on the distance."

	"You are. I'd even say you could do it now. At least you could try."

	"How would I go about it?"

	"If it's about women, you try to do exactly what you have done up till now, 
only you don't need physical contact any more. The rules and technique are 
the same."

	"I get that. And I shall try. But what if I want to influence people to 
give me certain specific advantages? What then?"

	"Use words, combined with pictures, but use them in such a way that your 
victim will feel, it is his own idea. Let me give you an example, even if it 
is still premature: If you want to get something out of your new actions in 
the company, you should wait until your results turn up in accounts. Then 
you plant images of yourself in Mr. Peterson's mind, plus words like 
`bonus', `raise', `deserve', etc.  That way he will think it's his own idea 
that you deserve part of the profit, you have created for the company. Do 
you get that?"

	"Oh, yes. If he thinks the idea is his own, I'm much more likely to get 
it."

	"Right. As you get better at it, there are almost no limits to what you can 
do, but I should volunteer some advice."

	"Sure, any advice is welcome. I'm new to this, you know."

	"OK. Never bite off a bigger chunk than you can chew. You might easily 
influence the chairman of the board to make you managing director, but it 
wouldn't last long, because you are not qualified. Right?"

	"Right!"

	"If your company owns a house you'd like to buy, it would be a piece of 
cake to make them sell it to you at 25 percent of the value. But you'd get 
tax authorities at your heels, whereas if you make them sell it to you at, 
say 70 percent, you'd still get a lovely bargain, and no one would raise an 
eyebrow. Get the idea?"

	"Sure. Sounds very sensible."

	"Remember, this is your dad talking, not your mind-control-instructor. Your 
possibilities are almost limitless, but you would not want the rest of your 
life to be a roller coaster ride. You are too old for that. Use the gift to 
give your clouds, not a silver lining but a gold or platinum lining."

	"Thank you for the advice. You know, I might have plunged head on into 
something that might be too much. I'm grateful for that."

	"You're welcome, son. Keep practicing, it will increase the speed you can 
operate on, and your distance will increase. Call me if you have any 
questions or advice to ask, or if you just want a cosy chat. And now, get 
back behind that lovely ass you've got upstairs."

	Mary was fast asleep when I returned. I stood by the bed for a little while 
and enjoyed the sight of her naked body. I wondered how that woman could 
harbour so many horny and kinky desires. I wondered for a short moment how I 
would have handled it, if I had known 20 years ago. Then I gave up, climbed 
back on the bed and snuggled up behind her like a spoon, and soon I was back 
to sleep.

Chapter eight.

	Wednesday morning. The scheduled meeting with Mr. Peterson was for 10 
o'clock. Henny was gathering papers and copying a few, when I noticed her 
longish skirt. Ah, no panties.

	I went up behind her, put my arms round her from behind and kissed her 
neck. "If this meeting is just halfway a success, I think we need to 
schedule another meeting in our `archive'. I have a burning lust to find 
out, if that skirt has the length that indicates what I want to find under 
it."

	She laughed and pushed her ass against me. "I haven't the faintest idea, 
what you want to find, and if I may say so myself, I think my skirt is long 
and proper, sir. Should I consider this to be a sexual harassment?"

	"As long as you leave the pressing of charges to me, you may consider it to 
be."

	"Well, thank you, Sir, in that case I shall schedule our conference for 11 
o'clock. Will that suit you?"

	"I can hardly wait."

	The meeting with Mr. Peterson went very well. He authorised any kind of 
information I might want from the other departments, I was given permission 
to call for meetings between departments, and at last he even congratulated 
us on the planning.

	"Do you have any wishes to add, Mr. Hansen?"

	"Well, I have missed a couple of possibly fine shipments during these last 
2 weeks. Bulk offers which were sold, before samples could reach us by mail. 
If I had been able to go there myself we might have made a couple of fine 
deals."

	"Do I read you like this: You'd like a travel-account to make it possible 
to go on short notice?"

	"Yes, actually. You probably know very well how long time an application 
for an airplane ticket may take to get through our bureaucracy."

	"Oh, dear, do I know. I shall tell `communications' that for this trial 
period you are allowed immediate air travel within Europe. Will that 
suffice?"

	"Certainly."

	"OK. You've got it, and I trust you to balance expenditure with the 
benefit."

	Back to the office. On the way I just managed to be thankful that I had 
followed dad's advice, not to use mind control, yet. Then I was torn back to 
present times by Henny. In the lift she pressed herself close to me and 
whispered: "That means a `conference' in the archive, doesn't it?"

	"You bet!"

	We had only just closed the outer door to my office when Henny turned 
towards me, lifted up the hem of her skirt to show me her stockings and 
suspenders, plus a novelty for her: A smooth, shaved pussy.

	"I want you to take me in there, and just fuck me right away. I've been 
horny for two days, and I'm in no need for foreplay."

	From the janitor Henny had solicited an old, very solid table. She had made 
him cut the legs down to her size, almost the same height as her kitchen 
table. Unceremoniously she jumped up on it, while I loosened my pants, then 
she spread her lovely legs as wide as they would go and groaned: "Fuck me."

	I bent down with the intention of having a nice taste of her naked pussy, 
but she grabbed my hair and pulled me up. "I said fuck me. Just put it in 
and fuck me. You can suck it when you have fucked me, if you want." God, I 
loved it when she was so rude.

	"OK, take it, then, and put it in. I shall damn well fuck you!"

	My cock had not reached full hardness when I entered her, but that was 
remedied very fast. Her cunt was delicious. Dripping wet, very hot, and very 
tight. When she clenched my cock with that hot cunt, I grew to full size and 
hardness in a couple of seconds. When I hit bottom the first time she 
groaned: "Aaahhh, that's good, God, I love it. Shit, I could cut it off and 
keep it up there forever."

	When we equipped the archive we had spent some time on that table, and had 
had a lot of fun out of it. With carefully measured distance a lamp and a 
hook for the waste bag  was screwed into the edge of the table. Now Henny 
spread a little wider and hooked her feet behind these items. She looked 
very vulgar in this position, and she knew it, and she enjoyed it. On top of 
that, it made it possible for me to fuck hard and deep into her. Which she 
also enjoyed.

	"AAhhhh. You are making me so lovely sore up there, Erik. Oohhh." It was 
furious, violent and fast! After only a few minutes I grabbed her hips and 
pulled her hard against me, while I started coming. When she felt me shaking 
and pumping against her it triggered her own orgasm, and she exploded with a 
deep groan. "Yessss, yesss," she panted into my ear, "Ohhh, it's so good. It 
just goes on! Aaaahhhhhh."

	With a long sigh, like a wheel loosing air, the tension and the 
contractions stopped, and I pulled out my dripping cock. I kissed her, and 
then I grabbed a Kleenex from the box Henny had placed strategically on the 
table, dried my cock off and pulled up my pants. All through this Henny 
maintained her vulgarly spread position.

	"Didn't you want to lick it? I shaved it for you, you know."

	She was such a nasty sight! Her cunt was very open, her shaved lips 
glistened with juice, and a small treacle of grey sperm seeped out of her.

	"Oh, what the hell, if she can eat it, I won't die from a few drops on my 
tongue," I thought. I pulled a chair up in front of her and sat down. I 
rubbed my cheeks against the tops of her stockings. I don't know why, but 
those stockings never cease to fascinate me. Then I licked her thighs, 
alternating between left and right, and at last I kissed her mons and licked 
it. When my tongue worked its way towards her crack she seemed to come 
alive, and when I touched her clit with the tip, and then moved down towards 
her vagina, she groaned and rocked her cunt against me. The taste was not so 
bad. Slightly salty, I'd say, and mixed with her abundant juice it was 
downright delicious!

	"Oh, this is nasty," she groaned. Her voice was trembling when she said: 
"Oh, my God, you are eating your come out of me! That is soooo perverse! 
I've dreamed of that for years!... God, I'm coming again. I'm coming. Yesss, 
suck it, you nasty you. Oooooohh." Quickly I pushed two fingers up her cunt 
and sucked her clit into my mouth. She pulled her feet out of the supports 
and clamped her trembling thighs round my cheeks, and her cunt really 
massaged my two fingers.

	Gradually she came down from Mount Everest. I pulled my fingers out, and 
her legs slumped down on my shoulders. When I lifted my head from her cunt 
and looked up, I was met with two starlit eyes and a happy, content smile. I 
pushed the chair back and lifted her off the table. We kissed, and for a 
moment we just stood there, arms around each other.

	"That was the nastiest, Erik! You wouldn't know how much I loved it."

	"I'd say you painted a pretty lifelike picture, Henny. By the way: I love 
your shaved pussy."

	"That's good. I did it for you, you know."

	"What about your husband, did he mind?"

	"He hasn't seen it yet. I wanted you to be the premiere. But he's coming 
home tonight, so I can tell you tomorrow."

	"Oh, he's going to stay at home for a while, now?"

	"Bloody, no. He's leaving again Friday."

	"Will you do something really nasty for me?"

	"I promise you, if you'll do what you did today, just once or twice a 
month, I'll do anything for you. Even nasty stuff."

	"If you liked me sucking my sperm out of your cunt, I'm sure you'll like 
this one, too."

	"OK, what?"

	"Can you come to work half an hour early on Friday?"

	"Sure. No problem."

	"I want you to seduce your husband to a farewell morning-fuck, then you put 
on a pair of tight plastic or rubber panties, to keep it all in there, and 
bring me your filled cunt for a morning fuck in the archive."

	"Oh, my God, NO, no, yes, yessss....you nasty, crazy man. THAT is wild."

	"Will you do it?"

	"Will I do it? The pope couldn't stop me! Oh, God, the more I think of it, 
the hornier I get. Yes, of course I'll do it."

	"Good, I'll be half an hour early, too, so we'll have a little time to 
ourselves.  But for now, we'll have to get some work done."

	"Right, nasty Sir."


Chapter nine.

	I have to admit, that so far this day had been a real boost to my ego. What 
had happened on the job could only be described as a major break through; 
and I had not even used mind control, yet! If I may say so, I also had 
reason for being just a little proud of my success with Mary and Henny. 
After all, the images I had planted in their minds were long gone, and yet 
both of them seemed to be developing more and more advanced desires.

	The idea came to me as I was driving home. I turned off at the next exit 
and drove back downtown. I had decided to take Mary one step further, and I 
entered an adult bookshop with the intention to buy cuffs for her wrists and 
ankles. Suddenly it dawned upon me that this would be a perfect place for a 
first test-run on `remote control'. This guy would probably never see me 
again; at least it was of my own choosing whether he should or not.

	I went up to the shelves with porn videos. For a little while I 
concentrated hard on forming the images of soft leather cuffs, and when I 
was ready I directed them, together with a diffuse image of myself, to the 
young salesman. Once they were sent, I turned back to the videos.

	"Can I help you, Sir?" The young guy looked eager to serve.

	"I'm just browsing."

	"Maybe I could call your attention to some very fine cuffs, we have just 
acquired from Italy. They are very luxurious. A bit expensive, I have to 
admit, but since you are the first person I show them to, I might offer you 
a special price?"

	My God, it was working! How the hell would he know what I was here for, if 
it was not through the mind control?

	"OK, show me. I just might get interested."

	The cuffs were absolutely gorgeous. Not only were they beautiful, almost 
like jewellery, but also they were extremely comfortable, made of the 
softest black leather with a purple velvet lining. Each cuff had two steel 
rings for fastening ropes or chains. I ended up purchasing four cuffs, plus 
half a metre of very light chain with hooks on each end. He sold me all of 
it for 50 dollars.
When I was about to leave, he even threw in a small zippered `leather' bag, 
which would hold it all.

	"Welcome home, dear. Did you have a nice day?"

	God, that wife of mine had sex written all over her! These last few days 
she had received me in the same dress: A long, very loose and roomy design, 
which looked so damn sexy anyway, because it was made of shiny, clinging, 
pale blue silk; or maybe it was some kind of nylon, how would I know. But I 
knew that, like the other days, she would be naked under it, except for stay 
up stockings.

	"You bet it was a good day. I have a lot to tell you." I kissed her warmly.

	"How exciting. I've put the whisky and a couple of glasses on the terrace. 
Go and relax for five minutes, and I'll be out with two cappuccinos."

	"Thank you, love. You're so nice to come home to."

	Five minutes with your eyes closed, relaxing in the evening sun, should be 
listed on the bill of human rights. Add to that a sexy wife placing two cups 
of cappuccino on the table! She noticed the small `leather' bag, which I had 
placed on the table.

	"Hey, what's that? Something for me?"

	"Sure, but you'll have to wait a little."

	I poured our whiskeys, and while we enjoyed the sweet coffee and the 
whisky, I told her about my meeting with Mr. Peterson, my extended authority 
and the travel arrangement.

	"But that's wonderful, darling. They are finally beginning to appreciate 
you!" She jumped out of her chair and knelt in front of me, grabbed my face 
between her hands and kissed me. "Congratulations!"

	"Thank you. And now for the present. It's for you, but it is also kind of a 
celebration gift to myself."

	I opened the little bag and pulled out two of the cuffs. While she was 
still on her knees in front of me, I fastened them to her wrists. She looked 
a little puzzled, first at the cuffs and then at me.

	"They are very pretty. Tell me, are they what I think they are?"

	"Easy, dear. Go back to your chair, and you'll soon know."

	Now it was my turn to kneel in front of her. As I fastened the last two 
cuffs to her ankles, the expression on her face showed that she knew, and 
when I fastened the chain between the ankle cuffs she looked downright 
horny.

	"Oh, Erik. That is VERY sexy. Do you think I can walk with these on?"

	"Slaves and chain-gangs can, so why shouldn't you? But I'm sure you can't 
run away from me!"

	"Why would I want to do that? Help me up, I want to try."

	She was a damn sexy sight. The chain rattled against the tiles, her 
movements were stiff and a little abrupt, which made her tits jiggle in a 
most interesting way. I sat down again, enjoying the sight.

	"I think you'll look even better without that dress on. Come over here."

	"What if the neighbours are looking," she asked while she walked towards 
me.

	"They wouldn't even get a peek of your tits, if they were. Unless, of 
course, they climbed a ladder. And if they did, I'm sure Hanne would become 
envious. Her tits are nothing compared to yours."

	I had counted on pulling off her dress, myself, but as she came closer she 
grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head with a very sexy movement. Then 
she took the last two steps until she was standing between my legs, naked 
except for stockings and cuffs.

	"Do you think they are prettier than Hanne's?"

	"Being coy? You know very well that they are prettier, firmer, bigger, and 
better." I placed my hands on them. A nice handful! "In fact so much better, 
that I shall propose a late dinner."

	"If that is your wish, Sir, it will be a late dinner."

	"I want you to go and lie down on our bed, while I pick up some flag line 
from the garage and lock the doors. Be careful when you climb the stairs, I 
would hate to see you fall."

	When I came upstairs with the soft, strong line, she was lying on her back 
on the bed. I bent down and kissed her, and then I opened the doors of the 
`French balcony'. Noises from the neighbourhood came into the room. A 
lawnmower, cars starting or stopping, kids laughing and playing, a barking 
dog.

	"This is such a luxury, darling. All around us people are busy, the way 
they always are at this time of the day, and I'm preparing to tie up my sexy 
wife and use her to my heart's desire, and for the longest time."

	"Oh, Erik, how I love you. I'm sure that if only the other husbands would 
do something similar, there'd be a bundle of happier wives around here."

	I decided then and there to take my time. Slowly I undressed, and I spent 
quite some time cutting lines to the right lengths, and then tie them to the 
four corners of the bed. All the time Mary followed my every movement with 
eager eyes. When I reached out for her left hand, she willingly lifted her 
arm and placed it in my hand. I threaded the soft line through one of the 
steel rings and tied it with a double knot. When I moved to the other side 
of the bed, her hand was already in the right position. I was careful not to 
tighten the line too hard. I wanted her to be able to move her arms a 
little, so she'd be comfortable.

	"Let's see how much you'll be able to defend yourself."

	She pulled hard at the ropes, but she couldn't get her hands anywhere near 
her shoulders. "Not much I can do now, is there?"

	"No."

	I unhooked the chain from her ankles and placed it across her belly. I tied 
the ropes to her ankle cuffs a lot shorter than to her hands. Her legs were 
spread very wide, now, and she couldn't move them together. She looked 
wonderfully vulnerable, and in spite of that, or maybe because of that, I 
saw the first droplets of juice seep out of her.

	From the battery of bottles on her dresser I picked a small bottle of 
lavender oil. As far as I remembered, it had a nice smell, and you don't 
need a lot of it to make your hands slip and slide on the skin. I then 
straddled her hips and held the bottle above her chest. Looking into her 
eyes I let a few drops fall between her breasts, and while I put the cork 
back in, I said: "This time I'm going to let my hands enjoy your body for as 
long as they like. You are a fine looking woman, Mary."

	"Thank you, Sir, but I'm not sure I can take it for very long. I have been 
quite horny this afternoon."

	"You see, dear, that's the point: You can't do anything about it!" I wet my 
hands in the oil and started with her breasts. They were so soft and 
delicious, and I hadn't caressed them for very long before her nipples were 
standing hard and proud. Over the next 15 minutes I took good care of her 
neck, her arms and shoulders, even her forehead and cheeks. I also tickled 
her ears with fingers and tongue, and returned to her breasts.

	While I uncorked the bottle, I got down between her legs and found a 
comfortable position on my knees. A thin trail of oil followed my movement, 
and when I recorked the bottle there would be plenty of oil for her belly 
and thighs.

	"Close your eyes, dear. I want you to let your fantasies free. While I 
massage your belly, your thighs and your pussy, you must be open to any kind 
of horny fantasy, which may enter your head."

	"Yes, I shall do that, if that's what you want. I'm already so horny I feel 
like exploding."

	"Very good, that's what I like."

	It was terribly exciting to massage her this way. Her belly was lovely, and 
for a long time I alternated between her belly and thighs, with small 
detours to her pussy. I would masturbate her for a little while, but if I 
felt she was getting close to an orgasm, I would return to belly or thighs.


Chapter 10.

	When all of her body was smooth with oil, and smelled sweet and strongly of 
lavender, I finally laid down beside her. While I pressed my body against 
her my hand roamed her treasures, and I kissed her the longest time, her 
mouth, her eyes, her ears and her throat. Once more I brought her to the 
brink of an orgasm.

	"Erik, you are so cruel! Please, let me come. Please. I can't wait any 
longer." She was shaking all over, and her voice sounded almost as if she 
was in pain.

	"Just a few seconds, dear." I rolled on top of her and slid my hard cock 
inside.

	"Ohhhhhh, yesss, eeeeiiiii, it's great. Oh, you feel so good inside me." 
Her voice had an almost crying quality, and she humped her cunt up and down 
to meet me. I rolled off her again.

	"Nooo, NO! Erik. It feels so empty. Don't do that to me! Erik, please!"

	I reached down and started masturbating her clit. With a finger on each 
side I rubbed her up and down, while I kissed and sucked and bit her right 
breast. This time she reached the brink of explosion very fast, but I 
continued.

	As her panting and groaning became more intense I whispered into her ear: 
"Remember, the balcony doors are open. You can't scream like you sometimes 
do. Keep it quiet."

	She choked her scream as best she could, but she could not help thrashing 
in her ropes. She was such a wonderful sight, and I think it must have been 
her strongest orgasm ever. At least I had never seen her react so strongly. 
When she had crossed the peak I stopped masturbating her, but instead I 
massaged her mons, her belly and her thighs while she gradually calmed down.

	"Oh, my God, Erik. If I could, I'd throw my arms around you and kiss you. 
This was so gorgeous that I hardly have words. Those cuffs were a perfect 
idea."

	"What do you mean: Were?  They ARE a perfect idea. This was only the 
beginning, my dear wife. Now I want some serious fucking. We are very far 
from finished."

	For the next hour and a half I fucked her every way my imagination could 
come up with. Her mouth, her pussy, her ass, her breasts. Mary came three 
more times, and I filled her up twice. Finally, around half past eight, we 
were back down in the kitchen. I had ordered her to let the cuffs stay on, 
as her only item of `clothing' apart from her stockings. She slumped down in 
her chair at the end of the glass table.

	"Phew, Erik. I have never, ever been so fucked out in my life. This is 
better than anything I could have imagined! Can you see my pussy?" She 
spread her legs a little wider. "Does it look as battered as it feels?"

	"It looks red and greasy, and it is seeping juice and sperm down into the 
yellow cushion."

	"Great, because that is how it feels. Oooh, you were so good, Erik. Never 
better. And I love you more than ever. But there is absolutely no energy 
left in me. You'll have to fend for yourself if you want supper."

	Out of what I could find in the fridge and the freezer I made us a light 
supper, crushed avocado, plenty of scrimp, a couple of hardboiled eggs, 
lemon and a piece of bread. A protein `bomb'. Just what we needed.

	"I have a proposition, Mary."

	"What now. More ideas?"

	"In a way, yes. Did you do what I told you? Let your imagination run free?"

	"Mmmm, I did. Yummy."

	"I should like us to make three envelopes each. In each note we describe a 
fantasy, a yearning, a lust, which we should like to try. Today we have done 
one of mine, so next time we use the cuffs, I'll draw one of yours, and then 
do what I can to carry it out. Next time you take one of mine, etc. How does 
that sound to you?"

	"Wow. Exciting. But I'm not quite sure I can do it."

	"Why not?"

	"How about it, if you think my fantasy is too much?"

	"I'll promise you to do my best to carry it out. Plus, I really don't think 
you can shock me that much. I am rather horny myself, you know."

	"I can attest happily to that, dear, thank God."

	"OK. Do we have a deal? Three fantasies ready for Saturday?"

	"Deal. I think it's a good idea to say Saturday. Gives me a few days to 
think. By the way; what do I do now? Do you want me to dress properly, or do 
I spend the rest of the evening like this?"

	"Like this, dear. I may have had all the pussy I can handle for tonight, 
but I still think you are a fine sight for sore eyes. But you could do me 
one favour."

	"Tell."

	"When we go into the living room I want you to put that yellow cushion into 
a pillow-sheet. I should like to fall asleep tonight with those lovely 
smells in my nostrils."

	"God, you are naughty!"


Chapter 11.

	Thursday morning I left a little early, because I wanted a few minutes with 
dad. I turned into a rest area, stopped the car, and concentrated hard. 
Sure, a minute later he was there.

	"Did I disturb you?"

	"Not at all. I already told you that. Can I help you?"

	"I don't know if you can, dad."

	I told him about the success with the shop assistant, which made him 
chuckle. "So what's your problem?"

	"I'm a little out of ideas, to tell you the truth. I have decided to follow 
your advice and wait, until profits start turning up at the company, so I'd 
sure appreciate a few ideas on how to use my new ability until then."

	"Like I told you, there's almost no limit, son. Keep your eyes open and 
follow your wishes. Which directions are you contemplating?"

	"Well, I'd like to put a few more eggs in my basket, for one. As you 
probably know I'm not in need. Our savings account is fairly comfortable. 
But a little more will always be welcome."

	"Of course it will. I'd advice you to start out getting yourself some good 
bargains, that's easier. People are always more on the alert, when they come 
to the point of actually handing out cash.  I know, that your pretty wife 
wants another car, and I think she deserves it. The one she's got now is 
ready for the scrap-yard. You could easily get a fine, almost new luxury 
car, at about half price. Wait a second."

	I was alone for a few minutes. I had just wondered a little about his 
extraordinary interest in Mary, when he was back.

	"There is a Fiat dealer close to your office. He's got a perfect, very sexy 
Alfa Romeo two-seater convertible, only three months old, for 30.000 
dollars. (Here, my dear reader, I have to mention that in Denmark cars are 
so heavily taxed, that we pay for three when we get one!)  I'm sure you can 
persuade him to sell it to you at half price, cash. Send him a few images of 
rainy, Danish summers, and words like `get rid of', `too special', `half 
price' - and you'll see him melt."

	"Are you sure Mary will like such a car?"

	"Am I sure? Let me tell you something, son. A woman would never buy a car 
like that! But if she gets it as a present, she'll love you to death. It is 
sexy, it will make her feel 20 again, and she'll see you as a daring and 
self-assured man."

	"OK, ok, I get you. I don't know much about women, do I?"

	"To tell you the truth: No."

	"How come, by the way, that you are SO interested in Mary? It wouldn't be 
because she was naked with me the other night, would it? Dirty old man!"

	"Hm. Caught in the act. Yes, I have to admit she called my attention, 
through you."

	"You keep your dirty mind out of her! Right?"

	"Sure. Promise. And even if I wanted to, I couldn't. She has absolutely no 
idea of the afterlife, and she couldn't receive an elephant, if it tried to 
enter her mind."

	"But you can, through me?"

	"Sure!"

	"Dad, you haven't got a body! What kind of pleasure could that give to you? 
Even if I was willing to help you."

	"For once I haven't got an answer, son. But there is a guy up here who 
brags, that his son took him to a whorehouse many times, 200 years ago. I 
could ask him. But please, no whorehouse. The son died of Syphilis."

	"You sound terribly eager. OK, you find out how they did it, and I'll think 
it over. I'll run off, now, maybe I can catch the Fiat dealer before office 
hours."

	"Good idea. Call Henny and tell her, you may be delayed a few minutes."

	Wow, the old man was right. That Alfa Romeo WAS a sexy car. I had trouble 
keeping up a poker face, feeding him negative images and words. He squirmed 
like a salmon on the hook, because at 30.000 it was a good deal, but at last 
I took out my checkbook and said: "15.000 cash. That's my last offer, if you 
can have it registered to my wife by noon."

	"Oh, all right. You sure drive a hard bargain, Sir. By noon, in your wife's 
name?"

	"Yes. I'll pick it up shortly after 12."

	It was a fairly ordinary morning at the office. I asked Henny for a favour: 
That she'd drive me to the Fiat dealer, first thing during lunch break, and 
take my car back to the company parking lot. At ten I called Mary and told 
her to be ready in our front garden at half past twelve.

	"What for?"

	"You'll see. Sorry, I'm busy. Bye."

	At twelve Henny rolled us out of the parking lot, and I directed her to the 
Fiat dealer.

	"Wow, are you going to have a new car?"

	"No, it's for Mary. The one she's got is ready for the scrap heap."

	When we stopped in front of the dealer's office, the Alfa was ready right 
there.

	"Is THAT the one?"

	"Yes."

	"Oh, my. What has she done to you?"

	"Well, little favours."

	"I should say so. Wow, it's sexy."

	I told her I'd be back a little after one o'clock, picked up the keys and 
the papers, and said my good byes to a sour looking dealer, who apparently 
regretted the sale.

	What a car! No only sexy, but very powerful, inviting me to some fast 
driving. It turned corners like on rails, and even the animalistic sound of 
the engine added to its sexy feeling. Five minutes earlier than expected I 
stopped with screeching wheels in front of our house. Mary was there, in a 
chair in our front garden. I jumped out and went up to her.

	"Hi."

	"Hi. What's that? Are you going to buy a new car?"

	"I already bought it."

	"Why? Your Toyota is fairly new."

	"Right. But this one is not for me. It's for you." I handed her the keys. 
"A sexy car for a sexy wife." I kissed her.

	She ran out into the street. When I got out there, she was dancing round 
the car, running her hands all over it.

	"Erik, Erik! It's beautiful! I love it! I love you! Eeeoowww! I can't 
believe it! Do you think I can drive it?"

	"You'll get to try it, right now. You have to take me back to the office 
straight away. Come on."

	I jumped into the passenger seat, took a minute to show her, where it was 
different from her present VolksWagen, and issued a last warning:

	"It's very powerful, Mary. Go a little easy the first few miles!" She did 
so for a little while, but when she had turned 4 corners she stepped on it! 
I cannot say I was afraid, for she turned out to be an excellent driver, 
much better than her old VolksWagen had allowed her to show, and faster than 
ever we rolled onto the company parking lot. She let go of the wheel, threw 
her arms round my neck and kissed me, eagerly.

	"Erik, what a wonderful gift. It's not even my birthday! God, I love it. 
I'm going to take it for the longest spin right now. You may hope for me to 
be back when you get home."

	"That's a good idea, dear. I think you should go back home, first. You'll 
need your licence, and your credit card to buy petrol."

	"I will, I will. I love you. Bye, bye." With flying hair and the speed of 
Michael Schumacher she took off.


Chapter twelve.

	I grabbed a couple of sandwiches from the cafeteria and was back in office 
right on time.

	"Hi. Here are you keys. What was all that about? You make me curious."

	"Mary's old VolksWagen has had it. I thought she'd like a new car."

	"Even if you had a new VolksWagen you'd be happy to get one like that! But 
I never suspected that Mary would want an Alfa Romeo."

	It dawned upon me, that Henny had not met Mary since last year's Christmas 
party. At that time she sure did not look like an Alfa woman. Well, for that 
matter, I did not look like a womanising mind-controller, either!

	"Well, you know. When the last kid moves out, it does something to a 
woman."

	"I wouldn't know. I never had kids."

	"Well, I don't know how to explain it. Something like `momma moves out' and 
`the woman' moves back in. Does that sound sensible?"

	"It sure does. Lucky you! I've seen so many of my friends transform from 
lovely women into mousy mommas, and most of them never go back, even when 
the kids move out."

	"I do think Mary is on the move. We'll se. Give her some time."

	"I wish I could inspire Claus to give me an Alfa Romeo."

	"Talking of Claus. How did he react to your shaved pussy?"

	"Very enthusiastically, thank you. He's convinced I did it for him."

	"Then you'll have no trouble about our date for tomorrow? That is, if 
you're still up to it."

	"You bet I'm up to it. The more I've thought about it, the nastier I think 
it is. Could we make it even nastier?"

	"Maybe. How?"

	"If you could bring me your cock, tasting of Mary's pussy, I'd suck it 
clean."

	"Wow, that would make it nastier, all right. A double cheat! I'll see what 
I can do."

	There were no visits to the archive that Thursday. Claus had been quite 
eager last night, and we also had a lot of work to do. Meetings were 
scheduled with stores, sales and different production units, and I even 
called for a short meeting, Friday at one, for a general information with 
all departments present.

	When I got home the old VolksWagen was in the garage, and the Alfa was 
nowhere to be seen. I made coffee and took it to the terrace with the 
whisky. I had only just poured one of each, when I heard the Alfa in the 
driveway. A minute later Mary was with me. Her cheeks were red, her eyes 
shining, and her hair blown into wild disarray. She jumped into my lap and 
started kissing me, fast and hard, and a million times.

	"Erik. You wouldn't believe how wonderful it is. I'm still all bubbly 
inside. How on earth did you get that divine idea?"

	"I knew you'd need a new car before long. You've changed so much this 
summer, and I love my new, hot wife so much, that I thought another 
VolksWagen would be most improper. You're no VolksWagen woman any more."

	"Ha, ha. You could say that. But this car is downright sexy, and maybe too 
young for me. Not that I don't love it. I do!"

	"You're downright sexy, yourself! And you're a lot younger than you were 10 
years ago. You even look it!"

	"My, are you a flatterer! Keep it up, dear. That one just earned you a 
dinner invitation, right now."

	"You are not going to cook dinner right now?"

	"Ha!  I feel like anything but a cook, right now! No, my dear, I'm going to 
take you to that small gourmet restaurant 50 miles up the coast, which we 
happened upon two years ago. I stopped by and booked a table for two, 
overlooking the ocean. Finish your coffee, have another whisky, and let's 
go." She kissed me a thousand times again, and then she jumped off my lap. 
She seemed so full of energy.

	I poured another whisky. I knew very well that she wanted to drive, 
herself. She disappeared into the kitchen, while I drank the rest of my 
coffee and the extra whisky. She returned while I was closing the terrace 
doors.

	"Ta-ta. How do you like this?"  She did a pirouette with her arms held 
high. She looked stunning! She had changed into a long, black skirt, and she 
was wearing a flaming red mohair jumper, which did wonders to her breasts. I 
had never seen it before.

	"I bought this sweater because it is exactly the colour of my new Alfa."

	"You look great, dear."

	I also bought a present for both of us. I have it in the car.

	"OK, I'll just pick up a coat. The evening may get cool for the ride home."

	"You don't need that. Come on."

	In the driveway she reached into the passenger seat and pulled out a black 
leather jacket. "Here you are, dear. I'm sure it will fit."

	"Hey, woman. You must have paid a million for this. It's beautiful. And 
soooo soft."

	"You deserve the best, love.  Ha, ha, and so do I. I've bought the same one 
for myself." She slipped into her own. She really looked tough, and very 
feminine, too. I put on mine. She smiled at me. "Hey, you look real good, 
Romeo. Your Alfa ride is ready."

	Wow. This afternoon had turned her into a different driver. She turned off 
at the first exit from the motorway, and soon she was navigating the small 
country roads leading north. She handled the strong car with assurance, 
turned corners with amazing speed, and she didn't touch the brakes unless it 
was absolutely necessary. Fortunately no police was out, or we should have 
ended up with a stack of speeding tickets! Amazingly I felt safe with her 
fast driving. She was really good.

	We were back home about half past eleven. I was really tired, and 
fortunately Mary was too. While we undressed she said: "I had such naughty 
plans for you, Erik. But this day has been so exciting that I'm going to 
fall asleep in two minutes. I'll make it up to you in the morning."

	"Oh, dear, you'll have to be early, then. I have to go at least half an 
hour early tomorrow to make some calls to USA."

"We'll see." She snuggled up to me with her head on my shoulder. Seconds 
before she fell asleep she whispered: "I love you. Such a wonderful 
gift....."


Chapter thirteen.

	I woke up to the sensations of Mary's mouth around my hard cock. I reached 
down to stroke her hair.

	"Good morning, Romeo. How do you like your alarm-clock?"

	"Ooohhh. It's great. Good morning."

	"Roll over, I want to ride you."

	She wrapped her dripping cunt around my cock and started a rocking motion. 
I was severely tempted to carry it through; on the other hand my cock was 
now sufficiently oiled for Henny! I looked at the clock.

	"Mary. Mary, stop it. I have to get up. I told you last night, I have to be 
early in the office today. Much as I hate it, I have to get going, right 
now."

	"Oh, shit. I forgot." She got off me, kissed me and said: "Never fear, 
love, I'll take care of you when you get home. Go and take a cold shower! 
I'll make your breakfast. Just a quick one?"

	"Right."

	I turned on the water in the shower, but I used a washrag to clean my face 
and torso while Mary's juice dried on my cock. I shaved and dressed quickly, 
and when I got down to the kitchen Mary had coffee and a cheese-sandwich 
ready for me.

	"I'm sorry I forgot, Erik. I must have been too tired to pay attention last 
night."

	"It's all right, Mary. We'll catch up in the afternoon. OK?"

	"Sure. I'll see what I can come up with. Bye, love."

	I have to admit that for the first time I felt like a heel. I had no 
trouble handling the affair with Henny, because I felt it did not take 
anything away from Mary. But this time... Well, fortunately I did not take 
long to recover, and soon my attention was focused on the upcoming meeting 
with Henny.

	She was already there when I entered my office, five minutes early.

	"'morning."

	"Good morning, Erik. How are you?"

	"I'm fine. Are you?"

	"Sure. So you remembered our date."

	"I did. I have fulfilled my part of our agreement. Have you?"

	She lifted her skirt to show me a pair of thin rubber panties! "It was a 
lot naughtier than I had expected." She dropped the hem of her skirt and 
moved up closer.

	"Sit down. I want to do this while you sit in your chair. Then we can go 
into the archive."

	Unceremoniously she unzipped me and fished out my cock, which was only semi 
hard. When she pulled back my foreskin and wrapped her lips round the head 
it soon reached full size! She hummed little tunes while her mouth moved up 
and down, but then she pulled away.

	"Mmm. This is very good. Your wife has a lovely taste and smell. I want to 
get it all." She licked and sucked me all the way down to the base, and she 
even put her nose into my hair and sniffed.

	"Ooohh, this is wonderful. Almost as good as licking her in person. Take me 
into the archive now, or my juice will have washed out all Carl's sperm."

	We locked the door from inside, and I turned to pull down her rubber 
panties. She pushed me back and got up on the table.

	While she spread out and placed her feet behind the lamp and the clamp, she 
said: "There are a few hooks halfway up my belly. You can open them there."

	They were a little tricky, but suddenly I managed, and the whole front of 
the panties folded down and revealed a smelly, red, greasy and leaking cunt.

	"God, you look used!"

	"Believe me, it is used. It's only half an hour ago Carl fucked me silly 
and drove me here. Now I want your big cock. You asked for this mess, now 
use it!"

	I had never tried anything this nasty! It was sheer heaven to slide into 
her. No resistance at all, not her usual tight fit. A big, sloppy silky 
cunt, gushing and leaking, her husband's sperm sloshing round my cock. When 
I hit bottom she started whimpering. She let out the horniest meowing little 
cries, while she rolled her head from side to side, supporting the back of 
her head against the wall.

	It was absolutely wild! The more I thought of her husband fucking her, the 
hornier I got.

	"God, Henny, you are such a slut! Is it good to get your second cock in the 
early morning? Is it?"

	"Yesssss, yesss, I'm a slut. Yesss, I love to be a whore. I'm on fire, 
Erik. It's a million times better because I'm still horny from Carl fucking 
me, and I've got the taste of your wife's cunt in my mouth! God, I love to 
be wicked!" Those words just did it. Simultaneously we started coming. I 
pushed the hardest I could against the bottom of her cunt and poured gush 
after gush into her, while her cunt opened up even more, and then squeezed 
and massaged my cock in the most wonderful way.

	For a little while I held her in my arms while she leaned down and rested 
her head on my shoulder. When my softened cock fell out of her, she returned 
to reality, too. While I dried off with a Kleenex and pulled up my pants, 
she struggled to hook up her rubber panties. She threw me a wicked smile.  
"I'm going to keep this locked up all day, and when I get home I shall spend 
a couple of hours with my fingers and my massager."

	"You are going to walk around like that all day?"

	"Sure. And I'll be horny most of the time. All the mess stays in there. It 
is such a lovely, squishy feeling. Never fear, the smells stay in there, 
too. I've tried it before."

	All those years wasted, without knowing the kinky potential in most women! 
My own Mary for sure didn't need much pushing, to transform from a boring 
once-a-week household fuck into a hot, daring and exciting mistress. Not to 
mention kinky little Henny. Well, I was not going to cry over spilled milk; 
I was going to catch up!

	Looking at my watch I realised that people would be arriving in the offices 
around us. I stepped out into my own office, looked around and called Henny. 
Soon the day gained its usual momentum. The meeting at one was a success. 
The leaders of the different production units were very positive. They all 
realised the advantages of direct contact to my purchasing `department', and 
one even solicited a good idea: I have copies of all constructions that are 
produced, but if each unit would circle measures and figures which were 
vital, and even more important: mark figures and details which were not 
vital to the function of the end product, I should have a much larger choice 
on the market.

	When the meeting ended a little after two I decided to call it a day. I 
kissed Henny good-bye and told her she could leave any time after three. 
When I got home there was no Alfa Romeo in our driveway.




Chapter fourteen.

	I figured that Mary was out burning petrol, so I decided for a cold drink 
on the terrace and a chat with dad. Henny had showed me how good a Gin and 
Tonic was, so I mixed a weak one, shed my clothes except my shorts, and 
settled down in a deck-chair. I had barely closed my eyes before dad was 
there, all on his own initiative.

	"Hi, son. Am I disturbing you?"

	"No. I had planned on calling you. Why are you so eager? Have you got 
anything new?"

	"Sure. Good news, bad news. Which do you want first?"

	"Good for whom? For you? Then give me that first."

	"I talked to Theodor. That's the guy with the son, remember?"

	"Yes. The son who died of syphilis."

	"That's him. The good news is that it can be done, and that it would be as 
good as it was when I was alive."

	"I say! Give us the bad news, then."

	"It's quite tricky, for a starter. Would need some practice. But the really 
bad thing is, that it cannot be done with a woman who knows you well."

	"That sounds strange."

	"Not really. At least it is logic. You should have to open your mind 
completely and let me take over. The moment I'm inside you, I'd also take 
over your physical movements, and any woman you have slept with before would 
know, it's not you."

	"You're saying that Mary or Henny would sense, something was wrong?"

	"Immediately."

	"Oh. That's too bad. So I should have to tell them the truth and get their 
acceptance?"

	"I can't recommend that. I'm absolutely sure they'd feel terribly cheated, 
if you told any of them how you used mind control from the beginning. And 
I'm not at all sure, you could convince them that all the rest is of their 
own doing. You'd loose two hot and loving women."

	"?"

	"They both love you, you know. Mary is really on cloud nine with pink and 
silver lining. She never loved you this much, and she feels like an 
infatuated teenager combined with a middle-aged wife. It would be terribly 
cruel to destroy her. I'd never accept that."

	"Neither would I. Well, we shall have to wait, then, shan't we? But that 
may take some time. Those two old girls really keep me busy. I certainly 
have no plans of expanding my harem."

	"Ha, ha. I can see that. You might benefit from a bit of exercise, you 
know."

	"I'm sure, you're right! Could we do a couple of practice runs?  I mean, 
practice you taking over. Then we should be ready for it, if opportunity 
turns up. I'm sure willing to help you on this."

	"We could, but not now. Your dear wife is overtaking all and everything on 
the motorway right now, and she'll be back in ten minutes. You said you were 
about to call me?"

	"Yes. I got an idea. Up at your place there must be plenty of guys, who 
have gotten away with different scams, when they were alive. Maybe you could 
shop around for a few ideas."

	"I could. But do you need to? You said your savings were on the abundant 
side. In about six months you'll start harvesting in the company. I 
shouldn't be surprised, if you'll get bonuses close to a million dollars 
this year alone. If I were you, I'd calm down and wait for that. Why risk 
anything? Take it easy, son. Relax and enjoy. You've got two hot women; you 
know you'll be rich in six months; and if you stumble on a thing you want, 
you can get it at a bargain. What more do you want?"

	"God. I feel like a teenager taking advice from his dad, only I'm not a 
teenager. But of course you're right."

	"Of course I'm right! You could practice your control some more, take it to 
a level where you can do it over a distance, through walls, and so on. And 
then I have one last warning. In the near future you'll get to trade with 
some Eastern European businesses. You'll be offered a commission, if you 
place your trade at their company. Don't take it! Their vicious kind of 
mafia will be involved, and it will backfire on you. They'll use it to 
blackmail you later. Don't take it, however tempting."

	"I'll remember that. Will you please leave me alone? I want five minutes 
before Mary returns."

	"OK. Bye, son."

	"See you."


Chapter fifteen.

	I must have dozed off for a couple of minutes. The softest, sweet kiss and 
a hand caressing my naked chest awakened me.

	"Hi. You're home early, dear."

	"Yes. I finished a meeting at two, so I persuaded myself I wasn't needed 
any more. Have you been out for a spin?"

	"Not really. I had some shopping to do. Of course I left an hour early to 
have a little fun on the small roads, but only a little."

	"You can have all the fun you like, love. I'm glad you like your car."

	"Like? I love it! You should know all the attention I get! I think all boys 
from 6 to 80 have been staring at me and my car. Or rather, my car and then 
me. I'm not used to that."

	"I thought most women liked to be stared at."

	"Well, I have to admit, it gives me a little kick. You know, a week ago I 
could walk down Vesterbrogade, and nobody would look. Today, when I got out 
of the Alfa Romeo, there were at least 10 boys and men staring at me, after 
they had feasted their eyes on the car. By the way, I have decided I'll call 
it by its full name. No `Alfa' any more. Agree?"

	"Sure."

	"What are you having?"

	"A Gin and Tonic. Nice and cool."

	"Will you make one for me? I have to go and change."

	"OK."

	She looked very sexy when she returned. Stay up stockings, high heels and a 
thin, see through negligee. She took her glass from the table and sat down 
on a chair, with her legs sufficiently spread for me to enjoy the sight of 
her trimmed pussy.

	"Cheers, dear." She took a swig of her drink. "You're right, this is lovely 
on a warm day."

	"So are you."

	"Flatterer. You make this old wife feel like she was. Lovely."

	"But you are. Was that outfit on your shopping list today? I can't say I've 
seen it before."

	"It was. You know, that short moment I had your cock in me this morning, 
has been most productive. I've been horny almost all day, and I've thought 
of almost nothing but a way to make it good for you, when you got home."

	"I should have known. I might have called you from the office. Have you 
come up with some good ideas?"

	"I think I have. I want my drink first, and then I want to see, if I can 
make that lovely long cock raise its head, untouched by human hand, as they 
say. Will you please get rid of those ridiculous shorts?"

	I lifted my ass from the deck chair and pulled them down. "Do you really 
think they are ridiculous?"

	"They are not remotely as sexy as you are, old boy. I have something better 
for you, for later."

	"You wouldn't know how much I love your new outspoken and sexy you. Look, 
he's raising his head in appreciation."

	"Thanks for the compliment, Mr. Cock. I see, you know that a gentleman 
should stand up for a lady. I have nice and naughty intentions for you this 
afternoon."

	"He can hardly wait."

	"Neither can I!"

	She got up from her chair, opened her negligee and went over to me, lifted 
her leg over me until she was standing with her open pussy right over my 
cock.

	"Move down a little."

	I did.

	"Good, this is perfect." She reached down to grab my cock; she guided it to 
her very wet opening, bent her knees and impaled herself on me. The lack of 
resistance showed that she really had been horny for a long time. "Aahhhh. I 
have longed for you since you left me in the morning, Mr. Cock!"

	She grabbed the small armrests of the deck chair for support, and with 
languid motions she moved her ass up and down. All the way up till only the 
head of my cock was in her, and I could see her juices glistening on the 
shaft, then slowly down again, sucking my cock into her hot cunt. Oh, it was 
great. I reached up to touch her swinging breasts.

	"No, no. I want you to put your hands behind your head and relax. I'll take 
care of everything. I'll go and mix you another drink if you want, and then 
serve it with your cock in my pussy. I'll take care of my own orgasms and of 
yours, and I promise you, I'll have many! May I serve you another Gin?"

	"That would be lovely. Maybe I shall need a straw if I have to lie like 
this."

	With a slurping noise she got off me, went to the table and mixed a Gin. 
 From the cupboard in the kitchen she fetched a drinking straw and returned 
to the terrace, straddled my deck chair again and impaled herself elegantly 
on my cock.

	She held the glass to my mouth. "Here you are, love. Have a drink while I 
massage your cock." I got the straw into my mouth, and while I started 
sipping, she made pinching, milking movements with her cunt. It was very 
depraved, but it was going to get better! She lifted the glass off my mouth 
and placed it on the table. With a wicked smile she moved her right hand to 
her cunt and started masturbating. Her left hand changed from breast to 
breast, kneading and pinching. I could see that she suppressed the moans she 
felt like uttering, but she certainly didn't suppress her orgasm, when it 
hit her. One loud, short scream and a lot of contractions. I always loved 
that feeling: A coming cunt round my cock, but this time it added to the 
luxury, that I had not moved a finger or a cock to produce it.

	She opened her eyes and looked down on me. "Aahhh, that was great. I've 
needed it since this morning. Now it's your turn."

	Once again she grabbed the armrests and fucked me royally. This time her 
cunt was sloshing wet and open. I could feel I should not last long, and I 
told her so.

	"Oohhh, I like that. That's a nice compliment. Let it go, love, I want you 
to come in my hot pussy. I love to fuck you."

	As I was getting closer I could not help tightening my back to press 
against her. When she felt that, she moved one hand back to her pussy and 
resumed masturbating. My first spurt hit her, and her hand took on a frantic 
speed, and before I had finished coming in her, I felt her familiar 
contractions once more. Finally she collapsed on top of me and buried her 
head in my neck. "Welcome home, Sir," she whispered to me.


Chapter sixteen.

	I had more or less expected her to continue, but she got off me, kissed my 
belly lightly, and went to mix another two Gins. Then she shed her negligee 
and sat down on her chair. She was a lovely sight. She had never before been 
very comfortable, being naked around the house. Now she openly displayed all 
her beauties, which were enhanced by her relaxed and satisfied movements. 
Her happy smile gradually turned off and was replaced by an annoyed 
expression.

	"What's on your mind? You don't look happy any more."

	"That's because I'm not. Happy. I have to go in a little while. I'd much 
rather stay here and fuck the life out of you, and live happily ever after 
on your life insurance."

	"Ha, ha. Talk about the merry widow. Why do you have to go?"

	"I thanked yes to an invitation, three months ago. You know, our little 
`yakkedi' club. Normally we meet some weekday afternoon, but tonight Anni's 
daughter is having her bachelor party, because she is getting married 
tomorrow. Her girlfriends are to pick her up at five. Anni has invited the 
club to a test-run on the wedding menu, because the wedding itself is a 
strict family affair.We're to be there at six."

	"I can guess. And you'll be back home at midnight, tired and drunk."

	"I'm NOT! I'll go in the Alfa Romeo, to make sure I do not drink, and also 
to show off to the girls and watch their envy. I'll be back no later than 
nine, maybe half past eight."

	"It's all right, dear. Go and have some fun. I dare you to leave your 
panties at home. Might remind you why you have to hurry back."

	"I will, I will. If the other wives knew, it would make them even more 
envious than the Alfa Romeo." When she kissed me good-bye at half past five, 
she looked a lot sexier and vibrant than most 46-year-old housewives.

	I left the terrace doors open, settled down on the living room couch and 
decided to call dad.

	"Hi, son. Any problems?"

	"No, not at all. Mary left for dinner with her girl friends, and I thought 
we might have a little chat. For instance about you taking a place in me. 
How it is done, and all."

	"Oh. Have you decided to give it a try?"

	"Yes. You have given me so much, since we made contact, and I'd be a lousy 
son if I didn't try to pay back, wouldn't I?"

	"No. Not at all. What I have given you is without any obligations, you 
know. I'm happy; I can finally do something good for you. But of course I'd 
really appreciate it, if you would try."

	"Sure. Tell me what to do."

	"Turn over to lie on your belly." I did so. "Now to the difficult part. 
First you must form an image of yourself. In your brain. Do it now, it 
should be fairly easy for you by now."

	"I've got it. Sharp or blurred?"

	"Doesn't matter. As long as you can identify it 100 % as yourself."

	"I can."

	"Now you make a small storeroom. A file, I think you call it in computers. 
Right?"

	"Yes, it's called a file. How should it look?"

	"Make it like a big, transparent bubble."

	"I've got it."

	"Concentrate on the things you can sense, one by one, and put them into the 
bubble."

	"I'm not sure I understand?"

	"Like, you can sense cold, right? Concentrate on that sense, and then put 
it into the bubble."

	"OK."

	"You can taste sweet, sour, salt and bitter. Put them into the bubble."

	"They are in."

	"You can feel pressure, light and hard. In they go."

	"OK."

	"Stop. You're wrong. That pressure thing made you think of your cock this 
afternoon."

	"Yes. You could see that?"

	"Sure. But that is emotion. That is not sensing. No emotions go in there, 
and no signals governing your muscles or reflexes. Pure feelings."

	"OK, I'll try. Give me a minute."

	"Well, have you put more into your bubble?"

	"Oh, yes. But the more I put in the more I seem to remember."

	"That's all right. What you've got now will suffice for a short test run. 
Are you still willing to try?"

	"Sure. This is really fun. And quite new, isn't it?"

	"Yes. Now concentrate on your bubble. Imagine how it gets smaller and 
smaller until it will fit into the image you've made of yourself."

	"That was difficult. Very difficult. I think I've got it now."

	"Good. Now for the really tricky stuff. Ready?"

	"I am."

	"Good. It may make you feel uncomfortable at first, but there is no danger 
involved. I want you to imagine, how the image of you is slowly leaving you 
through your backside. While the image is leaving you, I'll take over. It is 
going to feel very strange, but don't be afraid."

	It was a gross understatement that it would feel strange. It was downright 
spooky, scary, and weird. As the image was leaving me, I felt I was losing 
all control, bit by bit. I cannot really describe it. The closest I can come 
are those descriptions of after-death-experiences, I've read about. You 
know, people leaving their body and watching it from a corner of the room. I 
watched myself get up from the couch, walk to the table on the terrace and 
pour a drink. I watched myself drink it, but I felt nothing! I watched my 
hands touch different places on my body, like my hair, my chest and my cock. 
I watched how I returned to the couch and laid down on my belly.

	I understood this as a signal to return, but I did not have to do anything. 
I felt the image gradually be sucked back into my body, and my senses 
returned slowly. After a short moment I felt absolutely normal, as if 
nothing had happened at all.

	"Phew, dad. Are you still there!"

	"I'm here, son. It was wonderful."

	"For you, maybe, but you scared the shit out of me."

	"Was it really that bad? I just had my first drink since I died! It was 
great."

	"It was mega scary. I hated being out of control. You could have gone and 
killed my neighbour, and there's nothing I could have done to stop you. I'm 
not even sure I want to do this another time."

	"Oh. I'm terribly sorry. First, that I scared you so much, and secondly 
because I sure want to try it again."

	"You'll have to go back to Theodor and ask, if there is some kind of 
emergency brake I could use. I haven't got the faintest idea of the world 
you live in, or how tempting it would be for you to stay in me. This thing 
might have the severest consequences for me and a lot of other people, you 
know."

	"I get you, son. I'm sorry I can't offer you anything but a promise." I 
sensed some kind of disappointment, but I could not decide, whether it was 
of me for not trusting him, or of the conditions. "I'll talk to Theodor. But 
anyway: Thanks for a wonderful experience."

	I was alone again.


Chapter seventeen.

	Mary was in a fine spirit when she came home, shortly before nine. She 
kissed me in that special way she had done lately: 6 or 7 fast little kisses 
on my eyes, nose, cheeks, and then a long, soft erotic kiss on my lips.

"Hello, dear. Had a nice dinner?"

"Oh, yes. I loved showing off my Alfa Romeo. They were VERY envious, and 
they had a lot of naughty suggestions on how I had `earned' it."

	"I'm happy to have kicked off that kind of talk with my gift. I hope you 
didn't reveal too many truths."

	"No, not too many, but a few!"

	"You didn't!"

	"Sure. Just to see their faces."

	"What did you tell them?"

	"About the glass table, just as an example. You should have seen their 
faces. Sarah even said, if I ever wasn't up to it and wanted a stand in, I 
should call her!"

	"Sarah? I'm not sure I remember her."

	"Oh, yes, you do. The tall one with the brown, wavy hair."

	"Yes. The skinny one. Yeah, you might call her in, if I get tired of my fat 
wife!"

	"I'm not fat! ! !"

	"Of course you're not, love. I was joking. You'd be a damn good-looking 
woman if you were 36. In fact, you look a lot better than you did, when you 
were 36, and a hell of a lot more sexy than when we got married."

	"Thank you, dear husband. You are not half bad yourself."

	"Kiss me."

	She came up to my armchair and kissed me for the longest time, while my 
hands roamed her breasts, later her hips, and then found their way up her 
skirt.

	"Oh, yes. I forgot. You did go without your panties, didn't you?"

	"Yes, and that was very naughty! Not only was there a lot of dirty talk, 
but also this naked pussy reminded me.... Can't you feel I've been horny 
most of the evening?"

	"Deliciously so, love. You are lovely wet."

	She pushed my hands away and straightened up. "You just wait. I'll go and 
change into something comfortable. Isn't that what a `femme fatale' should 
say?"

	"Right. I think it was some dame in a film, said it first."

	She was upstairs for more than a quarter of an hour, but she was certainly 
worth the wait! I had never seen her look even remotely like this. Almost 
like a model in a fetish magazine. Black, seamed stockings, high heels, and 
some kind of a corset made of soft leather straps and see through nylon. She 
had changed her make-up into a very slutty look, with a big, red mouth and 
dark lines around her eyes. She held her hands behind her back, which pushed 
her pretty breasts forward. VERY sexy.

	"VERY sexy! Where on earth did you find that outfit?"

	"I went to the hooker street behind the central railway station. There are 
some very special lingerie shops there. Do you like it?"

	"I like it, and Mr. Cock certainly appreciates it. You look terribly 
exciting and kinky."

	"That was the general idea. I even feel exciting and kinky wearing it."

	She brought her hands forward, and she had a parcel in each. "I also bought 
a couple of gifts for you. Open the small one first."

	For a short moment I wondered about her change. I sure hoped she was not 
getting inspiration outside the house. Then I remembered dad's words about 
her: Her love and infatuation, and I pushed the thought away. Her first gift 
was a pair of Y-fronts, made of some shiny, light blue material.

	"They should go well with your blue eyes, dear. Try them on. If they fit 
I'll get more, and never see those silly shorts any more."

	I stripped quickly and slipped into them. The smooth, silky feeling was 
very new, very sexy. I was surprised that they were even comfortable. I 
could get used to them, very fast.

	"MMmmm. Very nice. Do you like them better than the shorts?"

	"Yess. Now you look like my sexy husband." She got out of her chair, took 
my hand and guided me to the glass table. "I've got something to tell you 
before you open the next."

	I do not like to brag, but that glass table was a brilliant idea, 
especially when Mary dressed up like this.

	"Like I said, I went into that lingerie shop. I tell you, they had all 
kinds of underwear and gadgets, enough to equip five whorehouses. The woman 
was very kind. She could probably see I was not used to this kind of shop. 
She showed me around and pointed out different outfits and their use. I 
think I learned more about sex and variations than in all my 46 years! I was 
stunned. On a shelf was a pair of black rubber panties with two cocks 
sticking out. She told me they were for two hookers putting on a show, where 
one would fuck the other, ass and cunt at the same time. That gave me a 
rush. I looked at some of the others, they were more like thongs with a cock 
on them."

	"Don't tell me you bought one."

	"Sssshh. Let me finish." She had dropped one hand into her lap, and through 
the glass I could see her diddle her clit. "She explained that model A was 
for a woman to wear, with a short, fat cock going into her own vagina. Model 
B was for a man, either to fuck another man, or to fuck a woman, cunt and 
ass at the same time. I must have blushed, when she said that, because she 
smiled at me, and then she said: "But maybe you should buy model Lux. Look 
here, it goes both ways. The man adjusts the thongs so the cock is nestled 
against his pubic bone, right above his cock. For the woman this short, fat 
cock screws into the back of the front plate to go into her vagina, and when 
she adjusts the thongs right, she can fuck her husband for all he wants, and 
have a lot of pleasure herself." Really, Erik, she said that."

	I was getting quite horny myself, hearing my wife talk like that. "Did you 
buy it?"

	"Open your parcel."

	My eyes flickered between the paper and the finger in her pussy, while I 
slowly opened it. She had done it. It was the model Lux with an extra fat 
cock to screw in. If someone had told me about this situation six months 
ago, I should have said he was crazy.

	"This table is good for the goose, too. I can see Mr. Cock is trying to get 
out."

	"No wonder, you wicked you. Let's go upstairs, I want to try it."

	"No. Let's stay down here. Can I help you put it on?"

	She pulled down my new underwear. With soft, trembling hands she fumbled 
with the thongs, interspersed with loving strokes or kisses to my cock. 
Finally it was on. What gross sight! My cock sticking out in a menacing way, 
and on top of it a smaller and thinner black rubber cock.

	I grabbed her hair with one hand and supported her arm with the other, and 
pulled her to her feet. In the living-room I took her to the end of the sofa 
and pushed her down to lie, ass up, over the armrest. "Stay there! I'll go 
and fetch the Lavender oil."


	"You don't need to. I brought it down here when I had changed my clothes."

	The head of my cock slipped easily into her hot cunt, until the black 
rubber cock touched her asshole. With my thumb I lubricated her, on the 
outside first, and then I pushed some oil into her. I also rubbed some oil 
on the artificial cock, and finally I was ready to do it. When I pressed 
myself against her my cock went deeper into her cunt, and the black cock 
strained against her asshole for a few seconds, then it suddenly slipped in 
past her sphincter. Wow, what a feeling. Mary trembled and groaned, and I 
could feel the extra cock rubbing against my own, inside of her.

This was such a thrill. A power rush. Her slushy cunt was electric round my 
cock, and as I started fucking her hard, her ass trembled and quivered and 
invited me to slap her hard a few times. She didn't last long. She let out 
an almost crying yell, and I felt her cunt spasming violently round my cock. 
I concentrated very hard on not coming, and I managed to fuck her hard all 
through her orgasm. When she collapsed I pulled out and went to the kitchen 
sink. With a wet towel and soap I washed the rubber cock. I turned round and 
looked at her: "Get down on the floor, whore. I want to fuck ass and I want 
to fill it up. You can have this black cock in your cunt at the same time. 
This time I don't need oil, do I?"

"Oh, no. My cunt is so wet and my ass is oiled. Come and fuck meeee!" She 
spread her legs wide and pulled her knees up to her shoulders, lifting her 
ass invitingly towards my cock. When I had pressed the tip of my cock into 
her hot, tight ass, she reached down and guided the black cock into her 
pussy.

"Oh, my God, you fill me completely. Ooohhh, it's like having two real cocks 
at the same time. Erik, you split me open. Aahhh, it's better than I dreamed 
of." She hooked her arms round my neck and fucked herself against me as if 
she was possessed. The sight of her face, all distorted by lust, went 
straight to my cock, and even if I only managed to fuck her this way for 
about five minutes, we both collapsed in violent orgasms.

When I finally pulled out of her and helped her to her feet, we stood there 
for a moment, arms around each other, savouring the moment. When we 
separated I looked down myself and couldn't help laughing. What a sight. My 
own cock hanging limp beneath a prominent black cock! Mary slapped it, 
laughing too. "If you take it off now, I'll clean it while you make us a 
couple of cappuccinos."

"Sure. Do you want a brandy too?"

"Yes, please."

She walked with swaying hips towards the bathroom door. The she turned 
round, looked lovingly at me, and said: "I feel so wonderfully naughty with 
your sperm seeping out of my ass. I guess I'll have to clean that, too."

I had the coffee and brandy ready, when she returned from the bathroom, cock 
in her hand. We sat down at the glass table to enjoy them. Of course I told 
her what a wonderful idea it was, and she admitted she thought so, too.

"You know what? I think the girls would climb their walls if they could have 
seen this, or just watch us now, in our own kitchen."

Although I should have sworn to the opposite, she managed to make me horny 
once more, that evening. Pretty good for a 48-year-old guy, don't you think? 
She screwed in the short, fat cock, to go into her cunt, and then she fucked 
my ass, while I was lying on my knees in front of the sofa, with my head 
down. I never knew there were so many nerve ends in my ass, but when she put 
her hand round me to hold my cock while she fucked me, I had never felt 
anything so divine. She groaned that the fat cock in her cunt was doing 
wonders to her, and she fucked me harder and faster by the minute. I started 
coming first, but when she felt my come fill her hand, she exploded, too. 
That did it. I was finished for the night!

We had another cup of coffee, and later we fell asleep, arm in arm, Mary 
still dressed in her hooker costume, because I had asked her to do so.


Chapter eighteen.

	In order go get on with my story, I shall skip a few months. Mary and Henny 
kept me pretty busy over the summer, and I considered myself one lucky 
bastard, in that department. I had two flights for the company, one to 
Poland and one to Spain. True to dad's predictions I was offered a 
substantial bribe in Poland, but I relented. In fact I didn't do any trade 
with them, at all. In Spain I took in a huge profit for the company on 
thermostats, which would fit into three of our end products. I have to 
admit, I used a bit of mind control on that trade.

	I did not try out my capabilities on any of the women I met on the two 
journeys. In fact my two hot mistresses kept me fully satisfied.

	By mid October I was called to Mr. Peterson's office. I had done a few 
calculations of my own, and I was pretty sure that profits by now were 
turning up in the company accounts. I told Henny, I wanted to go to that 
meeting without her, because it was going to be of a private nature. On my 
way up to his office I sent out `messages' to Mr. Peterson. I planted 
`bonus', `well deserved', '10 percent', etc.etc.

	Mr. Peterson was almost spilling enthusiasm.

	"Mr. Hansen. We should have thought of this, years ago. The result of your 
work is turning up rapidly now. Already these last six months have raised 
our profits by 8 million dollars, all related to your work, if I have to 
believe `accounts'. This is very, very promising."

	I transferred the word `bonus' once more to him, and he reacted 
immediately.

	"I really think you deserve a bonus, part for your innovative approach to 
this, and part for your good work. Have you considered this?"

	"Yes, Mr. Peterson, I have given it some thought."

	"Have you also thought of the size and nature of such a bonus?"

	"To be honest, I have."

	"I have too. Let's see if we have the same idea. What's your proposal?"

	"I have thought of something like 10 percent of profits, which can be 
directly credited to my work."

	"That's funny, Mr. Hansen, because that is exactly the figure I have 
imagined. Have you got any idea as to how you want them paid?"

	"Not really, Mr. Peterson. But it seems to me that a fifty-fifty share 
between company stock and cash payment would benefit us both."

	"That is a very reasonable approach, Mr. Hansen. I am sure the board will 
accept that. Of course I have prepared them at our last meeting, and they 
are very eager to keep you in the company. Consider it a deal. You'll have 
400.000 dollars paid to your usual bank account, and 400.000 dollars in 
shares transfered next week."

	"Thank you, Sir. That is very fine with me."

	"Good. At the end of this fiscal year we shall make a final evaluation of 
your work, and you'll have another payment due, at the same fifty-fifty 
conditions. Will that be OK?"

	"That will be most satisfactory, Mr. Peterson."

	"Good. Keep up the good work, Mr. Hansen."

	Compared to my former status this was an enormous boost, to my bank account 
as well as to my ego. Mary was absolutely ecstatic. She even hinted, that we 
might want to sell the house and move to a luxury condo, closer to the city. 
"You wouldn't have so much gardening to do. Might give you more time to 
cultivate another `garden'," she laughed.

	Shortly after New Year I was paid another bonus, this time 400.000, divided 
fifty-fifty. This coincided with a weeping Henny, meeting me the next 
morning. Her husband had been offered a very lucrative position in 
Vancouver, and he had accepted.  "I shall have to leave Denmark by the first 
of May. It will give me plenty of time to train a new secretary for you, if 
you want me to."

	Of course I hated the idea of losing her, but on the other hand, the 
thought of a new one was a temptation as well. I persuaded Henny to help me 
in choosing the right woman for the position, but her last comment on that 
was: "Don't you dare fuck her, until I have left!"

	Mr. Peterson authorised the hiring of a new secretary from April 1st, and I 
left all the initial interviews to Henny. After all she knew my needs pretty 
well. She ended up with three likely candidates, and we decided to do the 
final interviews together. I can only compliment her on her choices. They 
were all three very well recommended and efficient secretaries, two of them 
in their late thirties and one was 42, and either Henny had been lucky, or 
she had had other `secretarial duties' on her mind, because they were all 
rather pretty women. We ended up choosing Alice, the 42-year-old, who had 
managed the complicated spare-part stores for a big water- supply and 
wastewater processing plant.

..................................................

This will be the end of `The Gift' - part one.
Sincerely
Spiller.

_________________________________________________________________
Få nye ringetoner til mobilen 
http://www.msn.dk/mobile/logoringetone/ringetoner/

-- 
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>      |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+