Future of Porn

Oh God. What had I done! Ron and Darren just fucked me! I sobbed as I made my way back to the car, but I was in a kind of daze. It wasn’t until the next day when the full realization of what had happened really hit me. I felt dirty, used. They had used me like a common whore. And I had let them do it. Even worse, if that could be possible, next week I would have to face them again when we finalized the presentation. Oh Anne, how could you! How could you have sunk to this? This!

Why do I let these things happen? I couldn’t understand it, couldn’t reconcile it within my own image of myself. It was like I was another person. It had even felt like that at the time; I remembered feeling almost detached from myself, as if watching it all happening: the way they manhandled me, forced me, their hard cocks, their cocks that were hard because of me.

But that was the double shame in all this. Because, I had to admit, just as much as I hated it, it wasn’t as though they had raped me. I was a willing participant. Yes, I felt dirty and cheap, violated, degraded, unspeakably degraded. But at the time I actually liked it. I loved it, it was true. How it felt, how they were hard for, how they wanted me, wanted to fuck me like I was just a dirty slut. Oh, and how they did fuck me! How they shoved their hard cocks in my mouth, watching me. And I let them because I wanted them to. Wanted it like a slut. What a shameful slut I was for them. Forever onwards, no matter what brilliance I managed to come up with on behalf of my firm, for Ron and Darren I was nothing more than a little slut prepared to spread her legs for them and suck their cocks. And even now, thinking about it, their hard male bodies ramming into me, their cocks, using me, my pussy was tingling in the memory of it, just as my mind shuddered in disgust and shame. I felt as if I was sinking, in some kind of inexorable downward spiral.

Maybe I need some professional help, I thought to myself. A shrink. No. Shrinks were for mixed up losers. That’s not what I am. And how could I tell some shrink that I have been going round acting like a cheap slut? I couldn’t. Oh Anne, get a grip!

I was dreading the next day at work. I would have to talk to Ron. By mid morning I’d received an email from him to say that the reworked campaign did the trick. That was good, and I was relieved. But I needed to talk to him. I got him on the phone.

“So it went well?” I asked coolly, bracing myself.

“Yeah, they bought it,” he said. He sounded a little tense, though not as tense as I was feeling. “We’re in the clear. Now we’ve just got to massage it into something more substantial.”

‘Massage’ it, indeed, I thought to myself. What a sleaze. I felt my blood starting to boil.

“Ron,” I said firmly, “we need to talk. About last night.”

“Well… um, yeah?”

“Listen. I don’t want either you or Darren to breathe a word of what happened. Not a word. I’m deadly serious. I know you’re married, and if word gets out, I’ll make sure you-know-who also knows about it. And make sure Darren understands exactly what I’ve just said, too. OK?”

“Anne, you don’t need to worry. I understand where you’re coming from. I guess none of us needs anyone else to know about it, and you won’t have to worry about Darren. He’s got a wife, too, you know.”

“Charming,” I said.

“Well,” he continued, “it was just something that happened. No one needs to know.”

He paused on the line.

“Anne.”

“What.”

“That was wild, last night, really wild.”

“Hmm,” I said, not really knowing what to say. “Look, I don’t really want to talk about it any further. Just keep me informed of the status of the campaign. I don’t wish to speak about last night again.”

“OK, sure.”

He hung up. That wasn’t too bad, I thought to myself. It was something that ‘just happened’, and really, if it was all that traumatic, I needn’t have let it happen. I let things get out of hand, I did. I must try to make sure I have a better grip on things in the future. And he sounded sincere in saying that he wouldn’t tell anyone. God, if word got out about this, apart from the embarrassment, it might wreck my career!

I spent the weekend cleaning the apartment, top to bottom, a kind of penance for my sins, but also an effective form of physical and emotional therapy. I busied myself, throwing myself into the job. And it was a big job. I do like a clean home, and as I dusted around the furniture I realized how I had much I had neglected the place of late. It took almost the whole of Saturday by the time I had cleaned the apartment and moved out onto the balcony, where my collection of potted plants lay near dying through lack of water. I grabbed a bucket and gave them a much-needed drink. Hopefully it would revive them.

While doing so I heard a shuffling of papers nearby. It was my neighbor, old Mr Darcy from the apartment next door, out on his balcony. The balconies of this apartment block only had half partitions, it wasn’t a fully private situation with the design of the building, and Mr Darcy had filled the remaining space above the wall with some lovely tropical shrubs. It gave the balcony a rather nice ambience, as well as providing a veneer of privacy between us. His plants were certainly doing a lot better than mine, I thought to myself as I surveyed the scorched earth of my own plants, but then as a retired old man he did have plenty of time on his hands for such domestic pursuits. He waved at me from across the lush greenery.

“Hello Anne, lovely to see you. A spot of spring cleaning?”

I hadn’t seen my neighbor much lately. He was a lovely old man. English, with a very proper accent, very charming. He lived alone. I had never seen a woman there with him; presumably his wife had died some time ago. Not surprising, I thought; how old was Mr Darcy? I didn’t know, but he was certainly well into his twilight years.

“Hi Mr Darcy. Yes, bit of weekend cleaning. As you can see, I’ve kind of neglected my potted plants a little, I’m afraid.”

“Oh well, never mind. You’re obviously a very busy young lady. But I haven’t seen you around much lately. You haven’t been doing your morning exercises and I was worried that you might have taken ill.”

“Oh no,” I said, slightly touched at his concern. I had often wondered whether or not he had been watching me go through my yoga routines. I often had the sense that someone was there behind the trees. I wondered now whether or not he had seen me when I was doing them naked. Oh well, no harm done if he had.

“Just been a bit busy,” I continued.

“Pity,” he said. “I must confess, dear lady, that your daily calisthenics bring me great pleasure. Please forgive my boldness, but seeing a beautiful young lady as yourself performing her morning exercises is a rare delight for an old man.”

“Why thank you Mr Darcy,” I said, slightly shocked at his candor, and not really knowing what else to say in reply. Actually, were it anyone else, I’d probably have been mighty offended. But Mr Darcy was such a sweet old gentleman. If my yoga had been brightening up his existence, more’s the better.

“I just hope I’m not disturbing you so early in the morning,” I said.

“Oh no, my dear, not at all!” he said. “Young lady, at my age sleep does not come easy and nor, sadly, I must confess, is it long lasting. Most days I’m sitting out here enjoying my cup of tea as the first bird of the morning sings. Please, my dear, do not stop your exercises on my account! On the contrary, I do so wish you would do them every day!”

“Well,” I laughed, “maybe I should.”

We chatted on for a little while longer before Mr Darcy ‘retired’ to his living room. What a lovely old man. Cheeky – cheekier than I could ever remember him being, but charming. I liked him. Strange, though, that I wasn’t offended that he had been virtually spying on me. Well, by the sound of it he had been spying on me. But I wasn’t offended. Well, it was not as though he was being a dirty old man and being sneaky about it – he just straight out told me he’d been watching me. And it’s not as though he was any kind of threat; the poor old guy couldn’t have that many more years left in him. I didn’t know how old he was, but he had to be pushing 80. No, if my yoga exercises brought dear old Darcy ‘great pleasure’, so what? And he was right: I hadn’t been doing them much lately. I had almost forgotten about my morning yoga ritual. I had really been letting myself go.

I was feeling a little better after my chat with Mr Darcy. The apartment was spic ‘n span, and all of a sudden I felt somehow settled, at peace, back home. I curled up on the sofa for a night in front of the TV.

A little later on the phone rang. It was my friend, Wendy. I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, not since she and Roger announced their engagement.

“So how’s tricks hun’?” she said.

“Yeah, OK. Busy as ever.”

“That’s no good. Girl, you never seem to relax, you’re always working! But hey, are you doing anything tomorrow? Rog and I are going to the beach. It’s gonna be a hot day. Want to join us?”

“Sure. Love to.”

“Great. I can’t talk long, got a roast in the oven. Meet us at our place at about 10. OK? Good. See ya.”

A cleansing day at the beach, sun, sand, surf and relaxation – what a great idea. Perfect. I went to bed feeling much, much better.

I slept well that night; in bed early and waking up late. I felt good, nicely rested. I had my morning coffee and dressed into my black bikini, the one I had bought for the Buck’s Night. Oh God, the Buck’s Night for Roger’s brother, where I had been the drinks girl… Never mind, that was all in the past now, and I had already made my peace with Roger over that. It was all in the past.

I was about to throw on my wraparound and grab my things when I remembered my conversation with Mr Darcy. I hadn’t done my morning yoga… But should I? Knowing that he’d be there waiting to spy on me? He was probably out there right now. I looked at the clock. There was time for it. Oh heck, why not?

My bikini would be fine for yoga – and I certainly wasn’t going to do it nude again. I grabbed my yoga mat and opened the balcony doors. As I laid the mat on the floor, I heard a rustling of papers from behind the row of trees. Yes, he was there alright.

I laid out and went through an abbreviated routine – I didn’t have all that much time. It felt good, physically invigorating. I hadn’t done my yoga in a little while. But it also felt good on another level. Someone was watching me. Watching my body, enjoying it. I glanced down across my tits, down to my hips. Yes, I thought to myself, I look good. My body looks real good. And Mr Darcy thinks so, too. He’s watching me now, and old man watching, admiring a near naked young woman, who is doing nothing more than innocently going through her yoga regime – her ‘daily calisthenics’, as Mr Darcy had so cutely put it. It would be wrong to say that it felt naughty, but there was something about it!

Time to go. I headed inside and grabbed my gear.

Wendy and Roger had just moved into a new apartment. Lovely place, too, bigger than mine, and in a nicer part of town, not that there was anything wrong with my place.

“Hey Anne, good to see you!” Wendy said with a flourish and a hug as she greeted me at the door. “Rog will be just a minute. Hey Rog, let’s get going!”

“Coming hun,” I heard him say.

Soon we were on our way, in their car, me in the back seat.

“So, you guys go out last night?” I asked. It was good to see them again, and see them looking so happy. They had a hand on each other’s leg as they sat up front.

“Yeah,” said Wendy. “It’s Rog’s birthday – well, next week actually – so I took him out to see a burlesque show.”

“A burlesque show?” I asked. “What’s that?”

“It’s a show, like a cabaret. It’s kind of a strip show, except they don’t go past their underwear. It’s a retro thing, really quite the in thing at the moment, so I’m told. You know, like all those voluptuous movie stars from the ’50s, Marilyn Monroe, Jayne Mansfield – it’s kind of like that. I don’t really know how to explain it, but it’s not sleazy or anything. I thought, since it’s Roger’s birthday, it would be something a bit different and he would enjoy it, and I think he did.”

Roger was nodding in the driver’s seat. It looked like he had enjoyed it.

“Actually,” Wendy continued, “it was really well done, quite a funny show. And sexy, too. Rog, did you think it was sexy?” She gave his leg a little squeeze.

“Oh yeah, it was sexy,” he laughed.

As we headed out of town the conversation drifted away as we settled into the journey, taking in the sights along the way as we passed through the outer ‘burbs. It was a fine, warm day, and people were out and about doing things.

I watched as we approached a group of cyclists. I watched them as they hauled ass up a small hill, all those muscle-bound young males, their thin, brightly colored lycra cycle wear, their tight asses gently swaying to and fro as their legs pumped hard up and down the pedals, up and down in a solid, driving rhythm. As we got closer to them I could see their arm muscles flexing as they gripped the handlebars to anchor themselves as they pedaled, pedaled hard, big thigh muscles straining, pumping. I found myself almost in a languid daydream as I watched them, as if treated to my own private little show. Mmm, such rhythm, such power in their hot young male bodies…

As we left them behind, it occurred to me that only a short time ago I wouldn’t have thought of the cyclists in such a way; wouldn’t have focused on the physicality of them. It would have simply been a group of cyclists out for a ride that we were passing. But everything seemed to be sexualized lately. I seemed to see people, perceive them, in a different way. I had been aware of it just the other day, when strolling through the mall during my lunch break. Watching the passing parade, I found myself focusing on good looking young men in business suits, noticing the shape of a nicely formed neck and shoulders. Watching the way a guy walked, the way his ass and legs moved in a certain definite rhythm, concentrating on the way the material of his suit pants shifted and creased as he walked. And it wasn’t just the cute young guys. There was a woman who fairly captured my attention; dressed in a black business suit, conservative, yet stylish and sexy, really very striking. I watched her walking through the mall in her elegant black pumps, her dark curly shoulder-length hair and full, thick red lips. There was a magnetic quality about her; I couldn’t take my eyes of her. She looked up and must have caught me staring. She smiled. It was probably nothing more than an innocent smile, but I felt my nipples bristling as she looked me in the eye and smiled. Such sparkling dark eyes! I felt like I wanted to go up to her, place my hands on those perfectly formed cheek bones, run my fingers through her dark curls and place my lips on hers… I didn’t, of course, and soon she was gone. But it was how I felt, deeply; what I really wanted to do.

Oh well, I thought to myself as we neared our destination, already feeling a little flushed, if I seemed to be developing a view of the world around me that is more physical, more sexual, then what better place for me to be than the beach?

Soon we were there. It was the perfect day for it; already it was quite warm, and I was looking forward to the feeling of the cool salt water enveloping my body. If the surf was not too rough, I might even do some laps of the beach.

Evidently Wendy and Roger weren’t up for such physical pursuits; they’d brought a hamper of food and some excellent wine for us to enjoy: relaxation all the way with this pair. We found a nice spot and spread out our things. The beach was not too crowded, although it was still quite early.

“Who’s up for a dip?” I said, peeling off my wraparound.

“Absolutely!” Wendy said, stripping off her skirt and t-shirt. Roger was wearing little speedos rather than surf shorts, and I had to admit he looked good. He had a better body than I’d imagined.

We played around in the water for a while, but since the surf was nice and flat I left them there and went for a nice long swim down the beach. When I returned Wendy and Roger were lying on their towels, sipping a glass of wine.

“How civilized!” I smiled, as Wendy handed me a plastic cup. “Very nice indeed!” I sipped my wine and laid down on my towel, letting the heat of the midday sun dry my wet skin. We chatted about the latest celebrity sex scandal to hit the gossip columns, although I had to admit I hadn’t really been following the drama with any great interest.

It was getting hot. Wendy reached into her bag for her sunscreen. With her fair complexion, she was going to need the protection. She was lying on her stomach, trying to apply the cream to her back.

“Anne, could you do my back?” she asked. “I’m not as flexible as I used to be!”

“Sure.”

I squeezed out some of the white cream and began rubbing it into her back. I could feel that she had quite muscular shoulders, something I’d never noticed before. Actually, Wendy looked good. I knew she had great legs, but seeing her here like this, practically naked, and touching her skin, yes, she had a fantastic figure.

Roger’s head was buried in a book. Well, he was face down in the book, because evidently he had fallen asleep. The snoring we could soon hear confirmed it.

“Listen to him,” Wendy said. “But I’m not surprised. We didn’t actually do a lot of sleeping last night!” she giggled.

“Lucky you!” I grinned, as I rubbed my hands up and down her back, her skin beginning to take on a glistening sheen against the sun.

“Mmm, yeah,” she purred. “God, Anne, you know I can’t believe it, what we did last night!”

“Ooh, do tell!” I said, wondering now exactly what this pair did get up to. It sounded interesting!

“Oh, I don’t know if I should,” she said, cagey all of a sudden, as rubbed my hands into her lower back muscles. “Ooh, that feels good. You have to do my legs after you’re done there.”

“Well, OK,” I said, “but only if you tell me what you and Roger did last night.”

“OK, deal. Oh Anne, I can hardly believe it - he fucked me in the ass!”

“Oh Wendy!”

“Oh yeah! He did. It wasn’t expected or planned, and we’d never even talked about it before. But we just got real carried away, and then all of a sudden… I’ve never done that before!”

“Me neither,” I said. “So, it was good?”

“Yes! It hurt at first, but once you get used to it, it’s… ooh!”

We both giggled.

I was just about done with her back, but I had to admit it had taken a lot longer than it need have. Really, I was giving her a massage as much as I was rubbing sunscreen into her body, but it just felt like a nice thing to do. It was nice to make her feel relaxed, and it felt nice to run my hands over her skin. And it felt nice to feel Wendy’s body. She had a very nice bod. Very nice.

“Oh that’s great Anne,” she said. “Sooo relaxing. You’re gonna make me fall asleep, just like Mr Buzzsaw over there.” We both laughed.

“OK, I said, “all done.”

“But my legs, my legs need doing too,” she pleaded in mocking tones.

“OK,” I said. And I did want to do her legs. She has fine legs, beautiful, shapely. Sexy. And they needed to be protected from the sun’s rays, especially for a fair-skinned redhead like Wendy. I started with her feet.

“Ooh, that tickles!” she giggled.

“Just relax, Wen,” I said, pausing, my hand cupping her feet. Soon I was able to continue my, well, my massage, for that’s what it was, but my mind kept going back to what she had just told me. Frankly, I was a little shocked. I mean, I didn’t think Wendy was a prude, but she’d never openly given me such intimate details of her private life before. It just somehow seemed a little out of character. I thought I would quiz her a little more about it.

“The dance club, tonight?”

“Yes, sweetie, I want you to come and watch me tonight. Just think how that will make you feel, baby – you remember the feeling you get when you come to the club, don’t you? When you walk in your heart starts to beat faster, and you’re thinking about how much you need to see the girls strip for you, to tease you, to get you horny and excited, to get your cock throbbing. You like that feeling, don’t you Robert?”

“Ohh yes, I … ohhhhh ….”

“You’re not stroking yourself now, are you? You’re not allowed to cum, remember – I want your cock to be big and full when you come see me tonight. When you walk in and sit down I want you to be already worked up and feeling sooo frustrated! And when I dance for you, do you know what I’m going to do? Well, what I’m going to do, sweetie, is take your need, that ache in your poor suffering cock – and I’m going to make it worse, baby, oh so much worse! When you finally leave, Robert, you’re going to feel twice as excited and frustrated as you did when you arrived. Just think, I’m going to tease and tantalize you something awful, while you sit there panting and not allowed to touch yourself, not able to get any relief. Think about it, Robert – you enjoy suffering like that, don’t you?”

“Omg omg, yessss, ohhh I need it so bad, please…”

“And then when you leave, your cock will be big and throbbing and aching, it will be just dying for attention, for relief that none of us nasty girls will give you – and then when you get home – ohhhhhhhh just think about it – you can work on it all night, stroking and jerking it, teasing it, loving it… Just think how you can get it all nice and lubricated, and lie on your bed with your legs spread wide apart, and then your hands will be all over it, squeezing the head, massaging the balls, rubbing it against your body – doing all the delicious things to yourself that get you sexed up with sweet pleasure! Mmmmmm, just think about that pleasure, Robert - you really need it, don’t you? And all the while you’ll be remembering the things I did at the club to get you hot and bothered, and you can pretend that I’m there – those are my hands on your cock, making it feel so good, you can imagine it’s my mouth on you, pleasuring you and making you cum… you like thinking about that, sweetie? That’s really what you need isn’t it, to feel so excited, to get your cock almost teased to death?”

“Y … y … ohhhhhhhhhh oh god ohhh…”

“Uh uh uh – no more touching Robert! You just keep that hard-on nice and big and hot, and let me work on it for you tonight – you know the kind of things I can do to you, Robert, you know how worked up I can get you. And then tomorrow, after you’ve jerked that cock all night and made it cum and cum all over the place, you can call me again and tell me all about it, tell me how I made you feel. And you know what? When you’re telling me about it, I’ll get you hot and make you cum again. Would you like that, sugar?”

“Ohhhh yes yes I will…”

“Bye bye, sweetie – here’s a little kiss until tonight, a little kiss for you-know-where!”

Anita smiled, and hung up. Then, she got ready to go to work.

‘What do you feel like?’ she asked.

‘Funny. Naked,’ said Sarah, ‘I can’t go out like this!’

‘Yes you can,’ said Ann, ‘you have no idea how attractive it is to men when your breasts jiggle all the time, and your nipples poke through like that.’ She touched the point of Sarah’s breast through the silk. It was hardened by grazing against the thin material, and probably by the arousal of her forthcoming exposure.

‘And you are wearing stockings,’ said Sarah, ‘I think I’d like to put some on as well.’

Ann nodded, and dug out a little satin garter belt and a new pair of patterned black stockings. When she finally had Sarah dressed, she told her to try walking about in stilettos, which she hadn’t worn in years.

Ann looked a question at her, and Sarah grinned uncertainly back.

‘I feel very odd,’ she said, ’sort of completely naked down here,’ – she patted her pubes with her hand – ‘and as if everybody is going to be looking at me.’

Ann smiled at her, ‘I think we’ll attract a few looks, yes, and we’re going to do the sexiest thing known to mankind.’

‘What’s that?’ said Sarah, in alarm.

‘Buy shoes!’ said Ann.

As they left the house, Sarah reached for Ann’s hand, and said shyly, ‘Ann, can I tell you something?’

‘Of course.’

‘I liked it when you……when you touched me!’ She looked ashamed to admit it.

Ann squeezed her hand in encouragement.

‘Your husband wants to avoid me, because he doesn’t want to mix business and pleasure,’ she said, ‘but that doesn’t stop us….’

Sarah interrupted, ‘He said that, did he? What a lamb! I almost wouldn’t mind if he did, now that we’re friends, Ann.’

They were at the bus stop now, and a bus was just drawing up. They boarded, and there were very few seats spare, so Ann and Sarah had to sit at opposite sides of the aisle.

Sarah kept glancing in a conspiratorial way at Ann, who smiled back at her as they made the short journey into town, and she caught several male eyes following them as they headed for the big commercial centre. Ann knew that her walk, in four-inch metal-heeled stilettos, was very sexy, and that any breath of breeze would reveal a glimpse of the lacy tops of her white stockings under her short skirt. Looking at Sarah, she was aware that her heels were not really doing her any favours, so suggested that their first stop should be a shoe shop that she liked.

The store they went to had young male assistants, forever changing – it was the one her friend Tina had taken Ann to a few weeks ago at the start of her ‘new life.’

They sat on an upholstered bench, and Ann told a dark-skinned Asian guy that her friend wanted to try some sandals with very high heels.

‘I’ll bring you some to try,’ he said, casting a little look back over his shoulder at the two of them as he went to the store. Ann was well aware that she was displaying a good percentage of her leg-length, and smiled, her eyes deliberately hooded.

Sarah dug Ann in the ribs before the assistant came back, but Ann merely chuckled, and said, ‘Got to make the guys remember you, dear!’

Then he was back, with a bundle of shoes. He had seen Ann’s shoes, and knew what she wanted for her friend. He had brought various strappy stilettos, all with needle heels, some with platform soles as well.

When he knelt on the carpet in front of her, Sarah yielded her foot up into his hand, and let him take off her very ordinary high-heeled shoe, replacing it with a shoe with a four inch needle heel and a platform sole.

‘Yes, ‘ she said, ‘can I try the other one?’

He went away and fetched the other one of the pair, and, when she had them on, she walked about a little, tottering just a shade with the unaccustomed height.

‘They’re lovely,’ said Ann.

Sarah agreed to take them, and then Ann suggested she also buy a pair of boots.

The assistant went away again, having been told to fetch some good leather thigh-high boots.

Again Sarah gave her stockinged foot to the young guy, and he eased the supple leather up her leg, past her knee. As he did so, she eased her buttocks a shade on the couch, so that the young guy got a distinct glimpse of her stocking-tops, the white flesh above, and, almost certainly, her hairless pussy. He fumbled with the zip, indicating that he had, indeed, had an eyeful.

Before she finally bought the boots, Sarah had reduced the assistant to a gibbering wreck – it was her first experience of showing off her pussy.

After the shoe-shop, Ann took Sarah to buy some skirts. She had good legs, and Ann decided she needed some miniskirts, either flared or pleated, though not necessarily too short.

It was time for lunch, and they went to a wine bar, where again they gained quite a lot of admiring glances.

During their meal, Ann asked Sarah, straight out, if she liked restraint.

At first she looked shocked. ‘Isn’t that like bondage?’ she said.

‘In a way,’ replied Ann, ‘but look at her.’ She pointed to a middle-aged woman walking up to the bar in a very tight skirt, which virtually hobbled her about the knees.

‘Now why would she wear a skirt that tight?’

‘Fashion?’

‘Pull the other one,’ said Ann, ‘it’s restraint she wants.’

Ann went on to tell Sarah that she sometimes wore very tight corsets, and skirts so tight she could scarcely walk, especially for evening wear. Sarah said she found it very new and exciting, and that she’d give it some thought.

In the afternoon, they went to various shops, bought Sarah three transparent tops, a fishnet cat-suit she fell in love with, another two pairs of shoes, two lovely evening gowns and some sexy jewellery. They finished off at a lingerie store, where Ann talked her into buying a black satin corset, as well as some stockings.

Ann was about to set off home, but Sarah wouldn’t hear of it.

‘You must come and have dinner with us!’ she said, and wouldn’t take no for an answer, so they took a taxi back to her home, where Justin had just arrived from work.

‘Hello, girls,’ he said, kissing his wife, and giving Ann a brief peck as they dumped all their bags.

‘What have you been buying then?’ he asked.

‘Wouldn’t you like to know!’ said Sarah, following him into thee kitchen, leaving Ann standing in the lounge.

‘Wow,’ she heard Justin cry out, ‘wowee!’

They emerged, the two of them, and Justin said to Ann, ‘Would you like to shave me as well?’

‘Justin!’ yelled Sarah, and bashed him with a cushion. ‘For that, you can take us both out for dinner.’

‘But I can’t go like this,’ said Ann.

‘We’ll stop by your place on the way,’ said Justin.

Sarah put on one of her new evening gowns, with Ann’s help. It was a very expensive creation in shimmering gold material, with a halter neck, completely backless, open right down to the start of the crack between her buttocks. She wore her new needle-heeled stilettos, and pendant ear-rings so long they grazed her shoulders.

When the stopped off at Ann’s flat, she chose a long black transparent tube dress, under which she had to wear a pair of black lace panties, tied at the sides with black ribbons. Her breasts, however, were entirely visible, and after she had rouged her nipples, they jutted out at the thin black material, just asking to be caressed. She cinched a heavy silver chain around her waist and stepped into silver stilettos.

‘Oh my God!’ said Justin, when he saw her.

They went to a nice restaurant near the edge of town, and the meal was a very high quality one.

When they relaxed over coffees, Sarah told Justin about their day’s shopping, and, as Ann heard her talking about her feelings at going without panties, she suddenly felt a hand on her thigh, inching its way upwards. She was inclined to reject any advance from Justin, and put her hand under the tablecloth to push him gently away, only to make a remarkable discovery. Two hands were involved! Sarah’s hand was holding her husband’s wrist, impelling his hand up her thigh!

Ann looked at Sarah’s earnest face, and saw her slightly parted lips. Then she ran her tongue, unmistakeably, out between her teeth, just for a nano-second. Ann felt the hand creep up, ever up, until it nestled between her legs, a finger probing into her crack, pushing the layers of thin material with it, as she responded by letting her legs drift slightly apart. She switched her gaze to Justin, and saw that he was breathing a little more rapidly.

‘I think we’d better go,’ he said suddenly, and summoned the waiter. Ann wondered why he had decided they had to go, at that precise moment.

In Justin’s car on the way back to their home, Sarah sat in the back with her arm around Ann, but no one spoke a word.

When they got there, she had a surprise awaiting her. Victor’s Mercedes was standing on the driveway, and he was stood beside it, smiling. Justin had obviously arranged for him to meet them.

Justin unlocked the door and they went in. Victor whispered to Ann and she went into the downstairs toilet. When she emerged, she had divested herself of the panties, and was naked under the transparent dress.

Sarah had put a CD on, slow, sensuous music, and she and Ann started to do an impromptu dance, writhing around together, all the day’s excitement encapsulated in the moment. The men sat in the armchairs, enjoying the spectacle, knowing their respective desires would very soon be satiated,

Ann reached down and clutched the hem of her dress, easing it up her long legs, slowly past her hips, revealing her naked pussy, the ring in her clit hood, which she flicked proudly with a finger as she opened her legs slightly. As she turned her arsse towards the watching men, she spread her buttocks lewdly with both hands, showing them her newly-invaded, dilated arsehole, and emphasised it by fleetingly inserting a forefinger. She knew that she needed a prick in there – and soon. In one quick movement now, she whipped the dress over her head, and was naked in front of them, and helping Sarah undo the clasp at the back of her neck.

When this was open, her dress simply fell to the floor in a whisper of soft material, leaving Sarah standing naked in her teetering stilettos. Ann caressed her new friend’s body, drawing a little moan from her lips as she worked a hand through her moist crack, finding the little nub of her clitoris. Then she took her hand and led her quite firmly towards Victor.

Victor was sat, fascinated by the novice, and reached up to run his hand up the inside of her thighs as Ann led her to him. Sarah gasped, and Ann, leant down, unzipped Victor’s trousers, and took out his already erect penis. She knew him well enough to know he would be ass hard as a rock, and also that he would be wearing no underpants. Sarah’s eyes widened when she saw how huge he was in Ann’s hand, but Ann guided her down, down, to straddle her man, with legs wide apart, and soon his mighty weapon was stretching her cunt to its limit, as he gently forced his way into her and she settled on him with a tremendous sigh, gripping his entire length within the silken sheath of her vagina. Before she began to ride him, she rested a moment, and allowed herself to savour the joy of having this massive tool within her body, and then she squirmed a little from side to side to allow her cunt muscles to really get some purchase before she began to thrust up and down, up and down, groaning and saying things to him she would never recall, as she felt one orgasm after another build, take her by storm, then start to come at her again. He kneaded her breasts, rubbed her clit, reached behind her and fingered her virgin arsehole, did all the things she had never had done to her – she was in heaven!

All good things come to an end, and Victor couldn’t go on for ever. She saw his eyes cloud over and felt him quicken and stiffen as he thrust hard to meet her final great heave, and he came in one violent spurt of hot creamy spunk, deep within her.

Ann meanwhile had turned her attention to Justin, who was nowhere near as big as Victor, but equally eager, and had wanted Ann’s body for months. He pulled her to the sofa, and first lapped her soaking cunt hungrily, driving his tongue deep within her warm, inviting fuckhole.

She pulled him away by his hair, needed his cock inside her, and groaned with relief as he entered her, drove into her. She had to prevent him from cumming there and then by grasping the base of his tool hard, and using all her experience.

He controlled himself with a huge effort as she climaxed, and she showed him what she wanted him to do next, pulling him out of her and directing his crown to the portals of her anus. He got the message and slid into her velvet passage, its peristalsis transporting him to untold regions of pleasure, as she was carried off into a thunderous orgasm. He could hold off no longer, and shot his load into her bowels with a triumphant shout.

He thought: you can’t mix business with pleasure, no – but this was pure pleasure!

And Ann lay there just reflecting that she had perhaps brought a bit of joy into two more lives, at least.