Message-ID: <15998eli$9810042014@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: "neil elias" Subject: new story from Wombat Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <19980925083346.15896.qmail@hotmail.com> My first story last month was an entry in the Virtual Reality contest and scored a 10-8-8, which I guess means I can construct a piece of writing which is grammatical and correctly spelt, but it lacks something to make it special. This is the next attempt, with a bit more sex, a bit more character, and a bit more length. Hope you enjoy. This is a story with adult themes and content. It may be illegal in your area, or you may be too young to read it. You may not enjoy erotic stories. If any of those apply, please stop here and go back to reading proper literature like the Kenneth Starr report. The people in this story are, however, more attractive than the main characters in that one, and they certainly have more fun. Enjoy this if you're still with me! Wombat888 How to Succeed in Chicago by Wombat My name is Sarah Brentwood, I am thirty four years old, and I had just finished working ten straight fifteen hour days. I'm a lawyer, and I'd been assigned to a company in Chicago putting together the documentation for a big bond issue. hard, nitpicking work with lawyers from three different banks each wanting their own, often contradictory terms, and if it hadn't have been for the company's in-house counsel, Richard Morton, I think I'd have ended up shooting someone. As it was, by 6p.m. on Friday, we were done, the deed was signed, and I was debating in my mind whether to catch a late flight back home to New York or stay and spend a weekend in Chicago. There was not much to go home to: a studio on the Upper West side with two weeks of mail and dirty laundry to take care of, but more time in a hotel did not really tempt me either. After ten years in my job the romance of staying in hotels had well and truly worn off. Richard came over and watched me irresolutely packing my briefcase. 'Off back to New York tonight?' he asked, 'What time's your plane?' 'I'm still undecided,' I replied, 'I'd like to see the city while I'm here, and I'm wondering if a weekend in Chicago is worth the hotel. And, if I do stay, when I get time to wash my clothes.' 'You could stay at my place,' Richard said, and then, seeing my quizzical look, he added, 'No strings. I have a three bedroom apartment on Lake Shore Drive with a great view of the lake. I even have a washing machine. I also have a rare free weekend and I'd be delighted to have your company.' I thought for a minute. The offer was tempting, and I knew Richard pretty well after the last two weeks. Working closely with someone for that time and under pressure gives a good insight into what sort of person they are, what makes them tick, and how they react when they get tired and irritable. On all of these Richard scored well. I liked him, and I guess I trusted him. 'Thank you,' I said, 'I'd love to.' 'Good,' he said. 'Why don't I take you back to the hotel to check out, and we'll have dinner to celebrate a job well done. Then I'll take you back to the apartment and you can sleep as long as you like.' Dinner was very pleasant. The conversation moved on from legal issues to the merits of different cities, and on to more personal issues. Richard was a good listener, and he had a way of asking questions without making you feel like a witness being cross-examined. 'Is there a reason you live in New York?' he asked me at one stage. 'Habit, I guess,' I said, 'I went there at twenty two for my first job and never moved. Except that I spend so much time in different cities it is really just a base to leave from. I suppose I could move...the firm has offices all over, but I never have. It's mainly that there's been nothing to drive me. How about you? How long have you worked for Smith Tining?' 'Almost ten years. I joined them on my twenty sixth birthday as a legal officer, and whenever I've started to think of moving they've promoted me.' 'Are you married?' I asked 'Was. Divorced about two years ago.' 'I'm sorry,' I said. 'Why didn't it work out?' Richard smiled. 'In the time honoured phrase, I'm married to the job. My wife got fed up with the seven day working weeks and the cancelled dinners. How about you?' 'I could say the same, but I've never been married. Men friends generally require you to be in the same city on a fairly regular basis.' 'Do you regret it?' I thought more carefully than I had - the tone of his question suggested a real interest in what I had to say. 'No,' I said, 'I love my job and I'm used to being self sufficient. I wouldn't want to have to spend my life having to please a man.' As it happened, I didn't know how ironic that would turn out to be. We drove back to Richard's apartment at about ten o'clock, with me feeling relaxed and charmed. I studied him as he drove - I found him very good looking although he was not classically handsome. He was fairly tall and slim, and his face was rather bland except when he was interested in a subject: then it would become animated and his eyes would bore in on me. I'm sure I also found him attractive because of the interest he had shown in me! After we parked the car, Richard carried my bags to the elevator and up to the twenty ninth floor. He unlocked the front door, and before he turned on the lights he turned to me and said, 'Your own room or my room?' I think I'd already decided hours ago. Richard was a very considerate lover with a talent for foreplay and a genius for cunnilingus. I lay there in seventh heaven as he licked my pussy and sucked and flicked my clitoris with his tongue. He also showed me a few things I had never tried before. As he licked me, he pushed one finger deep in my vagina and another deep in my ass, and I had the most intense orgasm I can ever remember. While I was recovering, he stimulated my nipples with his cock, and I could see it was turning him on as much as me. Finally, when he put his hands underneath my back and almost lifted me onto his cock, I was so ready I came in a moment, and he followed seconds later, pumping cum deep in my cunt. I felt sexually satisfied for the first time in what felt like years. More than that, I felt replete, sated, totally fucked, for the first time perhaps ever. I didn't so much sleep as become comatose. I awoke late to the smell of coffee and the sight of Richard sitting naked on the bed. He smiled down at me. 'What would you like to do today?' he said, 'now that you've emerged into the land of the living.' I smiled back. 'My sleeping was largely your responsibility,' I said, 'and you were great last night. As for today - it's your town and I'll leave it to you again.' Richard looked thoughtful. 'Well,' he said at last, 'I have two alternative suggestions. Either I can show you the high spots of the city, or we can make this weekend a sexual odyssey. I don't just mean staying in bed: I mean exploring new dimensions in sex. I don't... I won't say any more until you say what you want to do.' My first reaction was to get up, get dressed, and leave. Why didn't I? Probably the good feelings left over from last night; the fact that I basically trusted Richard, and, if I were absolutely honest, that deep down I found the proposition intriguing. Maybe I was just a career woman half way to three score years and ten and ripe for an adventure. Either way, I found myself tempted. 'Tell me more.' 'What I am suggesting,' said Richard, 'is that you are totally sexually available to me all this weekend. You will do exactly what I tell you, and you do it when I tell you. No questions, no arguments. In return, I promise you two things. Firstly, I won't do anything that hurts or abuses you. Secondly, you will learn more about your sexuality than you ever have before. I also think you'll find it pleasurable. And, if you want to stop the game at any time, you only have to say the word. What do you say?' 'Have you done this before? Like with your ex-wife?' Richard looked straight at me. 'No,' he said. 'I was never interested enough to. But since the divorce I've spent a lot of time thinking and fantasising about sex, and I've imagined my ideal partner in making the fantasies come real. I think you're pretty ideal.' Once again I found myself considering hard. Thoughts of my own sexuality, my sense of who I am, my ideas of trust - these and others threaded through my mind. The decision, when it came to me, was much less considered, more a gut feeling of "what the hell, go for it". 'Tell me what to do,' I said. 'Well,' he said, 'I've only ever really imagined the rules in concept, so we'll have to make them up as we go along. Firstly, I want you undressed all day so I can look at you whenever I want to. Then you have to obey everything I tell you to do, and especially everything sexually. You must be ready at all times for sex with me. After that, we'll see.' 'What if I refuse?' I asked. 'Then the game is over and we stop immediately.' Strangely, this was both reassuring and threatening. I did not want to be responsible for the game failing. I tried to look submissive. 'What's my first instruction?' 'Get up and look beautiful.' I got up and went to take a shower. As I closed the bathroom door, Richard called out, 'No closed doors. I want to see you every minute,' and I pulled the door back open. Richard came and watched me as I showered, and I was very conscious of my appearance and my movements. Suffice it to say that it was not the shower I would have taken alone and unobserved. Richard was wearing a T-shirt and a pair of chinos, and as he watched me I was acutely aware of the difference between being naked together and being naked with my partner clothed. It made me feel more of an object, and, in a way, much sexier. The feeling continued over breakfast - him clothed and me nude - and I discovered that it is difficult in that position to talk about world affairs or social events because the situation is so overtly sexual. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not, but the answer was close enough to yes for me to persevere. A couple of times Richard told me to stand up and turn around, and when I did he looked at me in a cool, appraising way before telling me to sit down again. At the end of breakfast he told me I had done well, and I felt absurdly pleased. Then he said again, 'I want you available for my pleasure any time.' This was clearly a fantasy coming true for him, and it turned me on to be having this effect on him. I discovered what "any time" meant about an hour later. I went to the toilet, and had just sat down when the door opened. 'Sorry, it's occupied.' I said. 'I'll just be a few minutes.' Richard ignored my words and walked in. He stepped close to me until his legs were astride mine, and quickly unzipped his fly and pushed his cock into my mouth, pulling my head forward to take him deeper. My first reaction was shocked outrage, followed quickly by embarrassment. Richard simply ignored any protests I had (somewhat muffled in the circumstances), and gradually my mood changed as I found myself getting excited and wet. With the sensations in my body, the earthy smells of my toilet, the invasion of the normal privacy, and Richard thrusting harder into my mouth, the build up became intense and I came about four seconds before his cock started pumping into my throat. It was exciting and sleazy and sexy and dirty, and I loved it. Richard still did not say a word, but just kept his cock in my mouth until I had sucked it completely, and then he zipped up his pants again and left me to finish. For the rest of the morning I was in a state of uncertainty. Richard would occasionally come over to me and stroke my breasts or my hair, and once or twice he asked me again to stand up and pose, but for long periods he simply ignored me and read the newspaper. I felt a little rejected: if I was flaunting my sexuality he should be responding to it. I was almost relieved when, just about lunchtime, he told me to come over and suck his cock. 'Now,' he said, 'crawl over to me and make me come with your mouth. I want you completely focused on sucking me and making me feel good. You have to concentrate on the perfect blow job. Do it now.' I crawled over and took out Richard's cock. It was only semi-hard, and I could take the whole thing into my mouth. I started sucking and licking at the head, tasting the sharpness and the moistness. I thought I was pretty good at oral sex, but Richard was demanding and explicit. 'Suck me harder. Use your tongue more. Use it to flick the slit at the head of my cock. Put more saliva in your mouth, I want to feel and hear you slurping as you suck. Take it all in your mouth. Hold my balls with your hand while you suck. Squeeze them gently. Gently. Make me come in your mouth. Let me feel my cock fucking your mouth.' The instructions went on, and it became the most important thing for me to please him and feel his tension draining into my throat. My world was focused on him filling my mouth, and my hands squeezing his balls and pumping at the base of his cock. When he came, pulling my face hard onto his prick, I felt almost triumphant, as if my sexuality had been affirmed. It was great; any time later I felt like pulling out of the game agreement, thinking of that moment kept me going. The afternoon continued in the same fashion: occasional feels and looks and a lot of me sitting there feeling inappropriate. The real excitement came when he suddenly left the room and came back with a quilted jacket on, before taking my hand and leading me, naked, on to the balcony. Chicago in Winter is freezing, and I was certainly not dressed for it. 'Suck me off again,' he said. 'Only use your mouth. After I come you can go back inside.' He pushed me down until I was kneeling in front of him, and I took out his prick. In my mouth it felt small and cold, and I had no idea how to stimulate him when I was so cold. I tried to remember his previous instructions, and sucked and slurped, holding his balls, and feeling him slowly growing hard in my mouth. The feel of a cock stiffening in your mouth is like nothing else - you feel sexy and powerful and almost desperate to produce an orgasm. It's almost like having a baby - you feel responsible for this little limp object you have brought up to manhood. I was also desperate to escape the cold; if I hadn't had my mouth full my teeth would have been chattering. Richard was talking to me, telling me how much he liked my mouth, but I hardly heard him. I was willing him to come, trying with my tongue and my lips to push him over the edge before I developed frostbite. He was rubbing my breasts, and the nipples were so erect his fingers were almost strumming them. Finally I had an idea. I raised my finger to his mouth for him to suck, and when it was wet I moved and pushed it into his asshole. Almost at once I felt his balls contract and he began shooting sperm in my mouth. Success - I think I beat him back inside to the warm Before dinner time, Richard gave me the next instruction: a striptease. 'Have you ever done a striptease?' he asked. 'You're going to do one tonight with a few extras. I want you to get dressed, but before you strip you must come and undress me. I'll be naked while I watch you. I'll give you more instructions as we go on.' I had something of a problem with this, because the clothes I had brought were more suited to my legal image than this new erotic image, but at least I always spoiled myself with lingerie. I liked sexy underwear that I knew I was wearing when my clients only saw the surface look of a conservative lawyer. I put on a silk brassiere which gave me maximum uplift (not much at best), and a matching cream silk g-string. I had a suspender belt and a pair of light stockings. Not bad. I would have preferred black, but never mind. The outer garments were more difficult. In the end I settled for a shortish black skirt and a white silk blouse, figuring I wouldn't be wearing them too long anyway. I thought a lot about how I would do the strip. I'd never tried one, and I wanted this first attempt to be memorable. I would say I'm fairly good looking. I am slim, with good legs; five feet six or thereabouts, and a face that I'm happy with. I'm a little under-endowed on top (if I'm feeling generous I say I have a 33 inch bust), and my hair is styled for practical rather than sexy, but overall I felt I had enough to work with. I also decided to work up rather than down. From all my limited knowledge of striptease, the pants come off last. I decided to start there so that Richard would be enjoying my legs and other seductive parts and not concentrating on my breasts. I dressed carefully, despite a sense of oddness in taking such care to put on clothes only to take them off. In the end I felt as ready as I could be for my debut performance. If getting ready was sexy, undressing Richard raised the stakes about ten times. Have you ever undressed a man? Fully? From jacket to nothing? It's almost like a striptease in reverse, and by the time I eased his boxers over his erection I was feeling well in the mood to strip. Richard put on some upbeat music - Santana, I think - and I started dancing in my best bump-and-grind style. As my skirt came off and then my pants, leaving me with just suspender belt and stockings below my waist, I could see my audience reaction showing definite approval. I slowly removed my blouse and turned my back, swaying my ass as I danced backwards towards Richard, bending over to give him maximum exposure. I unhooked my bra, and turned to drop it in his lap. He was excited; I could hear his breathing. 'Now,' he said, in a strangled tone, 'play with your nipples and your cunt. I want to watch you come while you're dancing.' I wasn't sure if I could do this. I'd never masturbated with an audience, and I wasn't sure if I wanted to. But the alternative was to stop the game, and the way I felt and the way Richard looked made me sure I didn't want that. I started playing with my breasts; squeezing and pulling my nipples, and then moved my right hand between my legs to stroke my clitoris. I was still moving to the music, rubbing myself, and watching Richard watching me. As I got more stimulated I lost myself in my own sensations, and I felt a flush heating my face and my breasts as I approached orgasm. My fingers flew over my cunt, and I was crying "oh, yes, oh god" as I finally came. When I looked over at Richard, he was entranced. "Now come over here," he said, "and suck me." I went over and took his cock in my mouth. It was hard as iron. I began to suck it with the slurping method he had asked for earlier, but then he pushed my head away. "Rub your cunt over my face," he said. "I want to feel your wetness all over me. Push it into my face." I pulled his face into my pussy and slid up over his nose and mouth. I felt so wet and so erotic - the power of sex was incredible. "I'm going to come in your mouth," said Richard, "but first I want you to suck my ass the way I suck your cunt. Lick me, fuck me with your tongue. Make me as wet as you are." This was something else I'd never experienced, but at that point I think I would have done anything. I put my head between his legs as he leant back and I began licking and tonguing his ass. It felt good, earthy and dirty like Woody Allen says good sex should be. His cock was standing in front of my face and his balls were knocking my nose as I licked him, and he was clearly super turned on. I tried to do all the same things he had done to me, licking, nibbling, thrusting my tongue in and out of his asshole, and the more I did the more excited I became. I was kneeling in front of him while he was leaning back on the couch, and I found myself rubbing my groin against the couch as I licked. Finally Richard could bear it no longer. "Take me in your mouth, I'm going to come." I took his cock into my mouth and at once he gushed cum into me. His orgasm seemed to last for minutes, filling my mouth and dribbling onto my breasts. Almost unconsciously I was rubbing my clitoris again, and for the second time I came with Richard's cock in my mouth I kept the stockings on when we went to bed, and Richard enjoyed rubbing his cheek over my bare thigh and my silk covered legs before nestling down between my legs and sucking me to orgasm. When he moved back up he kissed me deeply and said, "How did you enjoy your first day as a sex slave?" A sex slave? I'd never thought of it like that, and the term seemed somehow to demean the day. Then when I ran through the events I could see the justification, but at the same time it missed so much. I had never felt so sexually powerful and so much in control of a man's sexuality before today. I had brought fantasies - his and mine - to reality and been the embodiment of desire. I had also been more turned on than ever in my life. I suddenly realised that all day Richard had only wanted my mouth. "Mmm," I said, "it was quite an experience. But I think you need to fuck me hard to round it off." "I have every intention of doing just that," said Richard, and moved down to kiss my breasts. "But first there is something else." Richard turned me over so that I was lying on y stomach, and pushed two or three pillows under my waist. This left my head down and my bottom raised up. He began to lick and suck my asshole, letting me feel from the receiving end what I had given him earlier. It was incredible. I was discovering erogenous zones I never knew existed. As his tongue pushed into my ass I found myself thrusting back, trying to get more of it inside me. When I came it was a whole new kind of orgasm, not intense and finite but like waves of floating sensation. Richard moved up, and without changing my position penetrated me from behind. The angle made him feel so deep inside me and his cock rubbed my clitoris with every stroke. He gradually raised the tempo, and I was dimly aware of my shouting as I came in a shuddering, shattering climax. Then, once again, sleep overcame me. The next morning when I woke up Richard was already awake beside me. "What's the time?" I mumbled. "Eleven thirty." "God, I need to get moving, my plane's at two." I started to get out of bed, but Richard pulled me back. "Go to the kitchen, get a jar of honey, spread it all over my cock, and lick it off." "I don't have time," I said, "my flight -" "Do as I say, that's the rule," interrupted Richard "What if I don't obey?" I asked, half angry and half intrigued. "That's a lesson for another day," said Richard. "Get the honey." I got the honey and sucked Richard for about fifteen minutes until he came, and then I went to shower and dress for departure. As I showered I wondered what our relationship was, or if indeed we had one, and where we could move forward from here. I planned to raise it with Richard on the way to the airport, but in fact he raised it first. "You have been sensational," he said, looking across at me. "Can we take the next step next weekend? I can come to New York if you prefer." "What is the next step?" I asked. "I really like you, and I've had a hell of a weekend, but a relationship must be based on more than just sexual games." He was silent until we reached the airport, and then when he had parked the car he turned to face me. "Sarah," he said, "we're not talking about sexual games. We're talking about total sexual surrender and being completely sexual beings. I want you to learn to give every part of you to me, and to take every part of me. I want your whole body. I want to know your every sexual fantasy; I want you to experience every sexual possibility. You know how good it's been this weekend. Let's keep going and see where it leads." "I don't know." I said, "I need time to think about it. Anyway, it can't be next weekend, I'm working. And it can't be my apartment - it's too small." "I can't make the following weekend," said Richard, "so we'll say three weeks. Let me know your flight time." "I haven't said yes yet," I said. "I'll decide." Richard escorted me to the gate and kissed me. "Remember," he said, "we've only got as far as your mouth. There's a whole way to go." On the aeroplane I thought about the weekend. It seemed unreal, a time out of time. I remembered that I hadn't even seen the great view he'd promised - the only time I'd been on the balcony I'd been otherwise engaged. As I thought over the events I found my hand creeping under my skirt to my pussy. I'd make a decision when I felt calmer. 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