The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Business and Pleasure

Part 9

Not for those under 18 (or whatever the legal age for this sort of stuff is in your area). If you’re not that old, Boo! Go away now. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of sexual activities, especially non-consensual ones, then don’t read this. All characters and situations are fictional.

Copyright © 2016

Archived on the Erotic Mind Control web site by permission of the author. This story may be downloaded for personal archiving as long as this notice is retained.

Some part of human nature is to crave new experiences, to know what’s over the next hill. But our real need, our yearning, is for a place in the world where we belong. Shelter, a place to call home. The knowledge that such a place exists and, when everything else is too much, a place to which we can return. And beyond a mere location for most of us home means, or at least we want it to mean, other people, family, someone to build that safe place with. Someone to rely on and someone who can rely on us. Few of us truly live alone by choice. We all have friends, acquaintances, work colleagues. People we know, people we’re happy to spend time with. We make those choices, it’s how we have evolved, to be part of society. And society tells us to find a mate, someone to share our lives with, someone to make a future with. Anne had thought she’d found that in Liam. She loved Liam, knew that she still did. But it wasn’t that easy now. She felt like a see-saw, perfectly balanced, tipping this way and that under no more force than a gentle breeze. Or maybe she was a bridge, frail and swaying, stretched between two mighty cliffs. At any moment she’d fail and bits would fall one way and bits would fall another and most of her would plummet into the chasm.

Sunday night had brought little sleep. Neither had Saturday, but that had been different. She and Charlotte had hardly moved from Charlotte’s bed all weekend. Well, a bit of time for food and necessities, but apart from that. She’d become intimately familiar with Charlotte’s bed. Although not as familiar as she’d become with every inch of Charlotte’s body, as she was sure Charlotte was familiar with hers. But late on Sunday afternoon Anne had said she had to go home, if only to have some clean clothes for work on Monday. Charlotte, reluctantly, had agreed. She’d said maybe they could just swing around Anne’s place Monday morning, but they both knew that wouldn’t work. If Anne had to change in front of Charlotte, well they both knew that could take a very long time. Because they had spent one sizeable amount of time out of bed, in a shared shower so long it threatened to drain the entire building’s supply of hot water. So they agreed it was best if Anne went home on Sunday.

Guilt choked Anne the moment she walked in the door. This was the place she shared with Liam. Their home. They were supposed to be together, they were supposed to be a couple, they were supposed to be the stability each other needed. So what, she had to ask herself, did she think she had been doing for almost the past two days? She sat on their bed and cried, she didn’t know for how long. She couldn’t regret what she’d done with Charlotte, it had been too beautiful, had been what she’d wanted for so long, she loved Charlotte too much. She couldn’t not regret it. She loved Liam. Part of her tried to believe the words that she’d shared with Charlotte, that because it was another woman it wasn’t cheating, but most of her couldn’t accept that. You can believe anything, almost, when you are that aroused, when you love the person you’re with that much. Charlotte could have told her the moon was green and unicorns watched over them and she’d have believed it. But now, sitting alone, in the quiet, in the house that she and Liam shared, it didn’t seem the same. Anne didn’t think Liam would see it as not cheating. She knew that she could never tell him, and that just made the guilt worse.

The best thing would be if she gave it up. Told Charlotte on Monday that even though the weekend was great and that she’d always remember it, that they couldn’t do it again. It hurt, the feeling of loss already reaching down inside her and ripping her apart. Images of Charlotte swam in front of her, sometimes Charlotte’s gorgeous body, sometimes the things they’d done, that Charlotte had done to her. But most often Charlotte’s beautiful face, the most beautiful face Anne had ever seen. It hovered in her imagination, her memory, Charlotte’s eyes, her smile, her hair. Anne’s tears didn’t stop. It was going to be so hard telling Charlotte that she just wanted them to be friends. But that was the only way she could see herself finding any stability in her life. She didn’t want to be stretched between Liam and Charlotte, hiding things from Liam, lying to him. She didn’t want to be torn apart.

Breaking it off with Charlotte would be the best thing. Then she wouldn’t have to confront her other problem. It might be better that she hadn’t been with another man. Maybe she could almost half-pretend it wasn’t cheating on Liam as she hadn’t been with a man. But she had been with a woman. Made love with a woman. She and Charlotte had told each other, earnestly, passionately, that they were bi. Maybe she was bi, or queer, or whatever. But that still didn’t seem right to Anne. She still wanted to insist that she was straight, however absurd that seemed, even to her. She realised that anyone else would just laugh at her protestations. She’d spent the whole weekend in bed with a woman and wanted to claim that she was straight. She knew it made no sense, but very little in her life did right now. Maybe one person didn’t make you gay. She still refused to count Chloe.

On Monday morning Anne almost decided not to go to work at all. Stay in bed, hide under the covers. But then she remembered that Liam was coming home that night. She couldn’t face him, not unless she sorted out things with Charlotte first. Then Anne cried more tears, bitter and stinging. Sorting it out. That wasn’t what she was going to do. She was going to hurt Charlotte. Anne felt small and alone and wretched. She was going to hurt Charlotte, the most precious woman in the world, but she didn’t know what else to do. She told herself that Charlotte would still have Simon, but she knew that wasn’t going to be enough, wasn’t going to stop the hurt, hers or Charlotte’s. Anne told herself that she had to do it. That It was the only thing she could do, the only way she could see to hold onto any sort of stability, in her life and in her mind.

All the way to her office Anne was dreading the thought that she might run into Charlotte, outside, in the lobby, somewhere. Anne couldn’t tell her in public. It was going to be hard enough in private. That prospect was just fear-inducingly, mind-numbingly, difficult. In a corridor, where anyone might hear them, to break Charlotte’s heart there, because Anne was sure it would, because her own heart was already breaking, that was absolutely impossible. Maybe Anne thought, seizing on a faint hope, Charlotte had come to the same conclusion. Charlotte was smart, maybe she’d realised it was impossible for them to continue. Charlotte had said that she thought she and Simon had something, so maybe Charlotte would break it off with her. That made Anne’s heart break even more, but at least it would be easier for her that way, although she cursed her own cowardice at the thought. Maybe Charlotte was bitterly regretting it all, wouldn’t even want to talk to her, maybe Charlotte didn’t care that much for her. Anne could feel tears starting to form at those thoughts. It was all too much, her breaking heart so large in her throat she could barely breathe. She had to stop, lean against the wall, before she was composed enough to continue.

Chloe was already at her desk as Anne walked in. The auburn haired woman was positively beaming, her mood a stark contrast to Anne’s.

“Anne!,” she cried, “hi!” Anne could scarcely believe it was the same woman who had terrorised her early days here. Despite the bleakness in her mind Anne felt her spirits lift, a little, at the warmth in Chloe’s smile. At least enough to look happy.

“Hi Chloe, how was your weekend?” Anne felt something that almost resembled a smile form on her features.

Chloe looked away, Anne was sure that she was blushing, “Umm, yes, it was, yes, thank you.”

Anne was sure she knew the source of Chloe’s discomfort. She didn’t want to be too mean to her colleague, whatever their history was, but she had to satisfy her curiosity at least a little bit, “So, did you and, umm, Kay, have a good time?”

Chloe still wouldn’t meet her eyes, but Anne could hear the excited catch in Chloe’s voice “Oh, yes, we did.” Then she looked up, straight into Anne’s eyes and simply said “Thank you.” A world was contained in those two words, laying sunshine over Anne’s mood, a world of such earnest gratitude and relief that Anne felt humbled.

It wasn’t enough to chase all of Anne’s demons away. She knew that there was only one help for that. “Is Simon free?” she asked, hopefully.

“Not right now, sorry,” Chloe’s professional manner started to reassert itself, “but he did say that he wanted to see you. Eleven was the earliest we could find.”

Eleven. That was over two hours away. She’d have to wait over two hours. Anne hadn’t expected to see him immediately, and two hours wasn’t that long, well objectively anyway. Rationality didn’t seem a large part of her mind right now. The lift in her mood that she’d drawn from Chloe turned brittle.

“Is there any chance I could see him now? Just for a few minutes?” Anne could see the indecision on Chloe’s face, “Please?” Anne knew how desperate she sounded, but she didn’t care.

The look on Chloe’s face turned to one of concern. “I’ll see, but I can’t promise.” She picked up the phone. “Simon? Anne’s here. She wants to see you now and, well, I think it might be best.” She paused, Simon was speaking. Anne held her breath. He had to agree, he had to. She needed to talk to someone she could trust.

“Yes, we can, all right, I’ll let her know.” Chloe put down the receiver, smiled at Anne.

“He can give you few minutes. I was going to see him at nine, but we can push that back a bit if needed. He can’t give you too long though, or it will put the whole day out.”

“Thank you,” Anne said, realising she was almost crying in gratitude. She hurried into Simon’s office.

“Good morning Anne,” Simon said, looking up from his computer, “No time for that I’m afraid, sorry.”

Anne knew what he meant, the moment she’d closed the door behind her she’d doffed her coat and reached for the buttons on her blouse

“Although as you’ve started,” Simon added as she undid the top button, “you may as well finish undoing them. But then you need to tell me what’s the matter.”

Anne smiled in gratitude. She knew how valuable Simon’s time was, taking time out to talk to her was very kind of him. Plus letting her show him her bra-encased breasts made her feel a little better. Even if there wasn’t time for anything else it was good of him to let her do that.

Sitting in one of his chairs Anne drew a breath, the rise and fall of her lace encased breasts, his gaze upon them, relaxing her. Enough, at least, for her to try to begin. “Well, Charlotte and I, we, after we went with Chloe, we.” She didn’t know how to say it. Charlotte said she had something with Simon. How could she tell him that she’d spent the weekend with his girlfriend? On top of everything else, the gnawing guilt about Liam, the doubts about her sexuality, it was too much. She stopped, and the tears came again.

She could hear Simon rising, but she couldn’t see anything, her vision too blurry. She could feel Simon’s arm around her. “After taking Chloe to the club you and Charlotte went back to her place. It’s fine, Charlotte told me.”

Anne turned, tried to focus on his face. She couldn’t, the tears wouldn’t let her. Simon mustn’t understand, he must think she’d just stayed the weekend at Charlotte’s, her friend couldn’t have told Simon what they’d done.

“You think it’s going to come between Charlotte and me.” Simon continued. “It isn’t. I don’t mind if she’s with other women. Especially someone as special as you. She really cares about you, you know.” Simon tapped the end of her nose, playfully.

Anne couldn’t contain her surprise, she tried to speak but all that emerged were incoherent noises. Finally she managed actual words. “You, you know?”

“It’ all right, Anne”. The reassurance in his voice washed over her.

It helped, a little bit. At least Simon didn’t mind and she hadn’t ruined anything between him and her friend. But in so many ways it made it worse. Simon had said Charlotte cared about her. She was going to break Charlotte’s heart. Because she had to break it off with Charlotte. Even if Simon didn’t mind, Anne knew that Liam would, and she couldn’t live with the guilt that she knew that she’d feel if she kept betraying him. And then there was Simon’s lack of surprise. He’d found out that she’d spent the weekend with a woman and it didn’t seem to perturb him at all. Was it that unremarkable? Anne couldn’t believe someone who knew her as well as Simon would accept this that easily. She couldn’t. So much of her was saying that being with another woman just wasn’t her, that she was straight. Yet to Simon it seemed totally unexceptional, as if it was something obvious about her.

“But, but,” she managed, through the tears, “I can’t, I’m not like that, and it’s not fair on Liam and.” She couldn’t manage anything else.

“Shh,” said Simon, “It’ll will all be all right. I’ll get you something to calm you down and then we can have a little talk.” He was soon back with something for her to drink.

“It seems to me,” he began after making she she’d had a few mouthfuls, “that you have two problems.” Only two? thought Anne. It seemed to her that her world was full of problems. Still, the drink warmed her and her problems seemed a little further away.

“You’re worried about hurting Liam and you think you’re straight.” Simon knew. Simon was so perceptive.

“I need to tell Charlotte that we can’t, not again.” Anne had to force the words out, they seemed slurred. She thought that it must be because she’d been crying so much.

“Well,” said Simon, thoughtfully, “that would solve the problem with Liam.” Anne smiled. Yes, it would. The words echoed around her head, her mind strangely empty.

“But,” Simon continued,” perhaps there are some other solutions. Hmm. One thing at a time. I’ll still need to see you again at 11. For now, let’s think about this.” Anne drifted away. She could still hear Simon talking, knew that what he was telling her was important. It was ok, she knew that even drifting as she was, she was listening.

Anne shook her head. She was sitting at her desk. She didn’t remember leaving Simon’s office or entering her own. Looking down she realised that she didn’t know when she’d done the buttons on her blouse back up either. She hoped it was before leaving Simon’s office. Anything else would have given Chloe completely the wrong impression. Oh well, doesn’t matter. At least she’d been able to talk to Simon. It had made her feel better. She knew that they’d talked about something. She couldn’t recall what, just that it had to do with one of her problems. She thought that really she should know what it was, it should worry her that she didn’t. The blank spot in her mind didn’t worry her at all. The knowledge would come to her when she needed it, and that was all she needed to know for now.

For any more she could wait until she saw Simon at 11. It was 9.15 now. Less than two hours. She could manage that. Simon would be able to help, talking to Charlotte could certainly wait until after she’d seen Simon again. Anne tried to convince herself that she was simply waiting until she could get some more advice, rather than being a coward. She was better off being in her office for now. Simon could be meeting anyone between then and now and maybe one of them would be Charlotte Charlotte and the last person Anne wanted to see right now was Charlotte. Anne hoped that she’d be safe in her office.

The blonde-haired lawyer picked up a folder and forced herself to concentrate. Work was the only thing she could think of to take her mind off Charlotte, at least until she could see Simon again. And avoid thoughts of Liam as well. Anne didn’t want to think about either of them. If she could think of some way that she could avoid hurting at least one of them it might be better. Every time she let her attention drift all Anne could think was how it would be so easy to devastate both of them, how it was all her fault. She should have said no to Charlotte, no matter how much she’d wanted it. She’d been weak and stupid and it was all her fault.

She was so busy berating herself that she didn’t notice that the door had opened.

“Umm, Miss Robson, do you have a moment?” Chloe was hanging in the doorway, she was side-on, trying to take up as little space as possible. She must have come straight from her meeting with Simon Anne thought. Chloe was wearing a skirt that ended before her knees. Anne found herself noticing how good it made Chloe’s legs look. She couldn’t help following those legs, from calves to the half-revealed thighs to where the tight skirt still showed their line to wondering about where they ended. After all, Chloe knew all about her legs and where they. Anne stopped herself. That wasn’t right. She was straight, she was sure she was. Well, pretty sure, maybe. She shouldn’t be thinking like that, wondering what Chloe’s nipples looked like. Although Anne was sure they would look very nice, the shape of the auburn-haired woman’s breasts, outlined by her blouse, had Anne’s mouth watering.

Anne balled one of her fists, the pain helping her concentrate. She needed to control herself.

“Call me Anne, please.” She thought that Chloe deserved that and anyway, ‘Miss Robson’ reminded her of all the times Chloe had been unfriendly to her.

The other woman smiled, nervously, and slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She stopped in front of Anne’s desk, not speaking, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“Chloe, please, sit down,” Anne waved at one of her chairs and Chloe sat down. At least I can’t see so much of your legs now.

“I, I just wanted to say thank you again,” Chloe said, almost too low for Anne to hear.

“That’s ok,” replied Anne, “I’m glad it worked out for you. And it’s not like we did anything.”

Chloe looked up, sharply, “Oh, no, no. I wouldn’t have dared go by myself, not the first time. I needed someone there, and you and Charlotte being there, well, thank you.”

The gratitude was too much, Anne didn’t think she deserved it. All Chloe was doing was making Anne feel more guilty, and then Anne felt guilty about resenting that, because it wasn’t Chloe’s fault that Anne felt terrible about what she was going to do to Charlotte. Anne paused, composed herself, made herself stop trying to chase through the tangled web of her emotions. She shouldn’t take out her frustrations on Chloe, Anne knew that she had to take responsibility for her own mess. “Oh, you would’ve been fine. You didn’t need us.”

Chloe shook her head, “Oh, no, no, you two were so convincing, it made everyone accept me. I know you were only pretending, but Kay said what a great couple you and Charlotte were. I heard other people saying how hot you two looked, how much you were into each other. I think it helped them accept me. I mean with the way you two were, or at least seemed to be, it meant that they thought I was, well that I fitted in and.” Chloe’s voice trailed off. Anne knew Chloe was looking at her, but somehow it seemed from a great distance, even though it was only the other side of her desk. Chloe’s face, her voice, nothing seemed real, everything seemed unfocussed, “Anne, are you all right?”

Anne didn’t know what to say. Of course she wasn’t all right. Everyone at, at, that club had thought that she and Charlotte were a couple. Had thought they were, well, were everything Chloe had said. Anne couldn’t process the words, couldn’t understand them, didn’t want to accept what they meant. She wanted to cry, break down and melt into a puddle and give up. She and Charlotte just couldn’t be that right, she didn’t want people telling her that, because parts of her saying the same thing was bad enough. She wanted Liam, she still wanted Liam. And yes, she wanted Charlotte and the one thing she didn’t want was trying to work out which one she wanted more. Because the answer would just make things worse, whatever it was. The only thing she could do that even seemed to have any rightness about it was stick to her plan. Tell Charlotte the weekend was all they would ever have. Swear herself to Liam. And hope she could make it work, hope she could stick to her word, and try to believe that the honesty in Chloe’s eyes didn’t matter.

“Yes, I’m fine, thanks,” I’m not biting back tears, I’m not, “I’m glad we were so convincing. But we were only pretending.”

Chloe nodded and Anne forced a smile onto her face, “So, you seeing Kay again?”

Not surprisingly, Chloe was, and was more than happy to talk about the tall dark-haired woman. She didn’t give away any explicit details, and Anne was very happy not to pry. Eventually Anne was able to persuade Chloe it was time for them both to get back to work.

Not too long after Chloe left, Anne’s phone rang. She wasn’t making much progress with her work, even though she was trying. She was struggling enough with keeping thoughts of Liam and Charlotte at bay. The interruptions were just too much. Still, she could see it was Owen that was calling her.

“Owen,” she said, after picking it up, “I hope you have good news for me.” Anne meant it, she badly needed something positive, something that might cheer her up. But whatever Owen had to say it might take her mind off her troubles.

“And good morning to you too,” Anne could detect more than a hint of grumpiness in her boss’ voice. Yes, she’d skipped the pleasantries, but it was something Owen had done to her many times. With seniority comes privilege, she supposed.

“Um, sorry, hi,” she managed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Just wanted to let you know how everything was getting on with Revesby.”

Anne sat up straighter, then leant forward, eagerness making her drum the fingers of her free hand on the table, “Yes? How’s it going?”

“Good, good, we’ve got a meeting with him in a couple days, with luck we’ll even get his signature then.”

“Wow,” Anne was impressed, “that was fast.”

“Well, it did take us all working all weekend.” Owen harrumphed, “Be thankful you’re over there and missed out. What did you do on the weekend? Anything fun?”

Anne fell back in her chair. So much for Owen taking her mind off Charlotte. “Well, I.” then she realised she’d almost said “I spent the weekend with another woman and we screwed each other’s brains out.” She knew that she wasn’t that stupid. But she wanted to tell someone, anyone, because it had been that good. She wanted to share it, she wanted to shout it. But she didn’t say anything, because she couldn’t, and soon she was going to break Charlotte’s heart, and hers. Anne felt a tear roll down her cheek.

“Anne? You ok?”

Anne took a deep breath “Yes, I’m fine, but, umm, no nothing much. Liam was away.”

“Ah, should have you called in to help out then. Anyway, too late, Revesby’s got the contract, he signs that, we’re set.

Anne frowned, “You’re not screwing him over are you?”

“Anne, I’m hurt.” Anne could almost see the look of exaggerated mortification on Owen’s face, “Trust me. He gets a big figure and, if it all works out, a percentage.”


“Of course, what kind of scam merchant do you think I am? It’s not like I work in Hollywood. Though it did take a lot of persuading before upstairs agreed.”

I bet it did thought Anne. “So,” she continued out loud, “can I be at the meeting?”

“No, no need and I don’t want to overwhelm him with too many lawyers. But hey, don’t worry, people know you’re where the idea came from, you’ll get the credit you’re due.”

“Thanks.” Anne knew that she could trust Owen.

“So, if this works out, that’ll be it and you can come back over here. Bet you’ll be glad to get away from the geeks.”

“Sure,” Anne lied. Or maybe she wasn’t lying. Maybe being back in the legal department would be best. No chance then of running into Charlotte. Of course, no chance of popping into Simon’s office for a bit of stress relief either. Nothing seemed simple anymore.

“Anyway, I’ll let you know how the meeting goes. But until then, keep working, just in case this doesn’t work out. We won’t know until it’s signed and we see how the other side reacts. Going to be a little while yet.” And that was both good and bad.

The conversation trailed away into pleasantries and passed-on hellos to and from Anne’s other co-workers.

After hanging up Anne checked the time. 10.10. Fifty minutes until she could see Simon. Maybe after that she’d be calm enough to find some answers. She turned back to her work. Hopefully she had enough time, and enough concentration, to get something useful done. Although part of her hoped it didn’t matter. It would be nice if Revesby’s signature would wrap it all up.

Sometime later there was a knock on her door, tentative. Anne sighed, suspecting that it was Chloe again. She wasn’t sure that she could take more of the woman’s gratitude. Glancing at the time Anne saw that should still had half an hour until she could see Simon again.

“Come in,” she said. The door opened and Anne was tempted to dive straight under her desk, but she couldn’t move, not a muscle. It was Charlotte. The raven haired beauty slipped inside, shutting the door as Anne stayed seated, frozen.

“Hi, Ch-Charlotte,” Anne managed, as her friend Friend? Really? That’s the best you can do?. As her friend started walking in her direction. Anne couldn’t take her eyes off her. Charlotte was dressed for work, her clean white lab coat undone, Anne could see a skirt that ended not much above the knees, and blouse no tighter than a million women were wearing in a million offices at just that moment. But this wasn’t a million women, this was Charlotte. Anne didn’t need tight or revealing clothes to know what Charlotte looked like under them. She knew. That didn’t stop her imagination pitching into overdrive. She could imagine running her hands over those clothes, imagine undoing the buttons on that blouse one by one, imagine …

No, no, no she told herself. This wasn’t fair. Not to Liam, not to Charlotte, not even to herself.

Anne’s mental flights had given Charlotte the time to cover the distance between them. She stopped and looked down. Anne looked back up. She could see Charlotte’s eyes. Her friend had seemed so assured, walking towards her, one foot in front of the other, heels shaping her legs. But now she hesitated. Anne looked up into eyes, Charlotte’s beautiful eyes. Charlotte seemed to be thinking, maybe summoning up her courage, thinking of how to say something.

Anne knew she should start first. She had to break it off. “Charlotte, I’m sorry bu…”

Anne was cut-off as Charlotte lent over, placed her lips on Anne’s and started to kiss her. Pieces of Anne started to melt as she fell into the kiss, tasting Charlotte. It had only been yesterday, but she’d missed Charlotte so much, those lips, that hair, that…

“No,” Anne said, pushing away in her chair. Charlotte stepped back in surprise.

“I, can’t do this, I’m sorry, I’m not.” Anne protested, bringing up her hands, trying to put something between them.

“Anne? What’s the matter?” Charlotte asked and Anne wanted to cry because she could see the hurt in those eyes and maybe if she cried she’d cry so much she couldn’t see it anymore.

“I, I’m not like this, we can’t.” Anne looked away, fixed her eyes on her desk. She knew she should look at Charlotte, that it was the coward’s way to not look, but she just couldn’t see that hurt again.

“Wh-what do you mean?” it didn’t matter if she wasn’t looking at Charlotte, Anne could hear the hurt in her voice, the loss and confusion. It was the hardest thing Anne had ever done, but she had to ignore it, keep going.

“I’m not into girls, not really.”

A memory flashed by Anne, too fast for her to grab. She was sure that she’d said those words before, sometime, so recently, but she couldn’t remember when. Something boiled away in her subconscious, just out of reach.

“Anne? Please? Look at me?” Charlotte’s voice was breaking, taking Anne’s heart with it.

Why do you think you’re not into girls, Anne?

Because I’m straight.

What does it mean to be straight?

Not being into girls.

That’s circular logic Anne. It’s not words that define you Anne, it’s desires. What do you desire?

She had to look at Charlotte, the pain was too much. The two women stared at each other, silent. Anne so wanted to bridge that gap, reach out and touch Charlotte. She saw a quiver in Charlotte’s hand, as if she too was struggling not to reach out.


Perhaps Anne, but perhaps that’s not all. What images come to you, when your mind is free, what sets a fire in you?

Men, Liam.

Honestly, Anne, is that all? Think of a beautiful woman, her face, her figure, her legs, her breasts, the line of her neck, the colour of her cheek, the fall of her hair. Can you see it?


Think of beautiful women, think of Charlotte. Aren’t you aroused?

Yes, no, no, I don’t know.

“It’s Liam, isn’t it, you don’t want to hurt Liam.” Charlotte said, at last. Were those tears running down Charlotte’s face? Anne’s fingers curled, she wanted to reach out, but she couldn’t, didn’t trust herself. At least Charlotte had said something Anne could agree with.

“Yes, yes, I’m sorry, but I love him and I want to be with him but we just can’t and I can’t lie to him and I’m so sorry.” Anne could feel tears on her cheeks.

Charlotte blinked, wiped her own tears away. “I understand, I do, but, please, don’t make me think that I made you do something you didn’t want to.”

You know when you’re aroused Anne. Your heart starts to race and you can feel the warmth rushing through you and the parts of the brain we never like to talk about take over. Think about Charlotte, about beautiful women, and think how you they make you feel.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, but we shouldn’t have, I’ve got Liam and you’ve got Simon and I’m not like that and you’re not like that and”

Charlotte cut her off, more than a hint of anger in her voice “I know what I am Anne.”

Anne cringed at the tone, Charlotte angry at her cut her to the core, but surprise had her tongue blurting the words before she even thought about them. “How could you? You said you never had, not before.”

Charlotte smiled, sadly, “Before you? No. And yes, I’m with Simon, I really am now. But I know what I am. Just because I’m with a man doesn’t mean I can’t find women attractive too.”

Charlotte was with Simon? Anne seized on that. It seemed right, it seemed normal, “Really? You and Simon, official, when?”

“Yes, we are, just now actually,” replied Charlotte, and Anne could see a distracted look in Charlotte’s eye and a slight flush in her cheek and she wondered what Charlotte and Simon had just been doing. She doubted it involved only words, “It’s what I came in to tell you, but the way you were sitting there, looking up at me, you looked so adorable and I just couldn’t help myself. Anyway, he knows about us and he doesn’t mind.” She reached out to Anne, but the blonde pushed her chair back, trying to get away. Charlotte sighed, and sat on Anne’s desk, hands held up in surrender. “Okay, okay. You’re worried about you and Liam, I get it, I really do. But Anne, please, believe me, even if you’re going to stick with just Liam, burying the truth about yourself will only make things worse. There’s no point denying your desires.”

Anne looked away. Her desires, she didn’t want to think about feelings.

You’re thinking about them now Anne, how do you feel?

I, I…

Honesty Anne, don’t lie to yourself.



I’m aroused, I’m hot, I want them.

“Honestly Anne all it takes sometimes is just one person, one special person, to make you realise what you are. You did that for me Anne. Maybe I was all along and never realised, maybe not. But now, well, I’m into women as much as I’m into men. And don’t tell me the woman I spent the weekend with doesn’t feel the same way.”

That’s right, Anne, they arouse you, you want them. You’re attracted to women. Say that Anne.

I’m attracted to women.

Mean it, it’s you.

I’m attracted to women.

It’s all right to be attracted to men as well

Oh god, yes, thank you, thank you, yes.

You’re attracted to both men and women and Charlotte gets you so hot.

Yes, yes.

Anne couldn’t take it anymore, she couldn’t lie to Charlotte, couldn’t deny the truth that was raging through her body. “All right, all right, yes, I’m bi, I’m queer. I don’t know, I don’t know what to do. I can’t hurt Liam, I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do.”

Remember what we talked about before Anne, you’re a horny love-struck teenager for Charlotte.

I’m a horny love-struck teenager for Charlotte.

You’re not straight.

I’m not straight.

What are you then?

I’m bi, I’m queer.

Good girl, Anne.

Anne couldn’t stop the great sobs that were heaving through her. She saw Charlotte reaching for her and this time she didn’t stop her friend. Whether it was acceptance or weakness, Anne didn’t know. She could feel Charlotte’s lips on her cheeks, kissing her tears away, and those lips found hers and they were kissing and it felt right.

But there was still something else.

“It’s ok, I’m sorry, I’m not, I’m not going to be stupid, but there’s something I need to tell you.”

Anne could see Charlotte frown, “What?”

Anne drew a breath, summoning her courage. If she was going to be honest, she had to be honest about everything, “You know how I said you were my first?”

“Yes.” Charlotte replied, a little suspiciously.

“Well, it was only sort of true,” Anne hurried the words out before she could stop herself.

A look of confusion was plain on Charlotte’s face “Sort of? How could you sort of have sex with another woman?”

“Well,” Anne began, and then she told Charlotte, all about her and Chloe and what had happened.

And to her surprise, and relief Charlotte laughed. “Right here? In your chair? And Chloe just?” Then she paused, trying to stop her laughter, “And you tried to tell me you were straight?”

Anne gave an embarrassed shrug, “I know, all right. I was just, well, being silly I suppose.” It was such a relief to have told Charlotte.

“I understand, but a straight girl wouldn’t like it if I did this.” Charlotte said, as she leant over from where she sat on the desk and kissed Anne’s neck, “or this” as she ran a hand over the side of Anne’s breast, “or this” as she rose and pulled Anne out of her chair and took her in her arms. They were kissing and holding each other and then they released their hold, just enough so that their hands could explore and despite the weekend it seemed so new and fresh.

Anne felt her buttons being undone and her blouse and bra were gone, somewhere in her office and Charlotte’s lips were on her breasts and Anne didn’t know where she was or when it was but she knew who she was with. The rest of her clothes were gone and she was naked in front of Charlotte and it didn’t matter that Charlotte was still clothed because being led felt so good. She was being pushed back on her desk and Charlotte was kneeling on the floor in front of her and Charlotte’s tongue was driving into her and Anne was screaming and coming and she couldn’t stop herself pulling Charlotte’s mouth back to hers. Anne tasted herself, mixed with Charlotte and she could feel Charlotte’s clothes rubbing against her naked body and at some point Charlotte must have taken off her lab coat because it was just blouse and skirt and everywhere she touched Charlotte Anne felt on fire.

Then she was taking off Charlotte’s clothes and returning everything that Charlotte had done to her, and she knew Charlotte was coming, Anne heard her screaming out her name. And then they kissed again.

When they broke apart for air Charlotte looked at Anne. Then she looked at the floor, and back at Anne. Anne looked at the floor. She knew what Charlotte meant. Charlotte took her hand and led her to the middle of the floor and then they sank to their knees, kissing, tongues intertwining. Then Charlotte gently, so gently, lowered Anne to the floor, hand on thigh as Anne brought her legs around. Charlotte looked down at Anne, and smiled, before raising a leg and placing herself over Anne.

Anne’s eyes were fixed on Charlotte, on her lover’s pussy and she could see Charlotte lowering herself and Charlotte’s knees were on either side of her and she didn’t mind taking some of the weight. Her world spun and her knees drew up and apart, she couldn’t stop them, as she felt Charlotte’s tongue as it ran the length of her opening. She did the same to Charlotte, then her mind exploded as their tongues dove in, thrusting, exploring, the actions a perfect mirror. Sparks and flames ran the length of her body, Anne could feel her breasts rubbing against Charlotte as Charlotte’s rubbed against her, every touch sending ecstatic shivers through her. She came, again and again, and she knew that Charlotte did too and it felt like it could go on for ever.


Anne felt Charlotte fall off her. The sound had come from the direction of the door. A strangled yelp came out of Anne’s throat as she saw Chloe standing there.

“Ah, sorry, I can see you’re, umm, just pretending, right?” Chloe asked.

Anne looked at Charlotte as her hands sought for something to get dressed in. Like her, Charlotte was desperately looking around for her clothes. Anne felt like a teenager, caught with her boyfriend by her mother. If my mother had caught me like this with a boy she’d have locked me up for ever.

“It’s just, that, well, it’s past eleven and Simon was wondering where you were, and here you are and,” Chloe’s voice stumbled and she gave up.

Anne had found her blouse, but there was no sign yet of her bra. She gave up her search, for the moment, and held the garment to her. She pretended that it gave her a modicum of decency. She’d tried to get further away from Chloe, but had ended up with her back up against her desk.

“Well, that’s right, yes, we’re just,” for a wild moment Anne had thought she could claim they were practicing in case Chloe need them to accompany her again. But she realised that was absurd. “Ah, no, all right, no, we’re not pretending, not anymore but,” She gave up as Charlotte took over.

“We were pretending at the club Chloe, but well, after that, we.” Then Charlotte’s voice ran out as well.

“I understand,” said Chloe. Anne could see the woman’s eyes running over both her and Charlotte’s near-naked bodies. Chloe’s expression was that of the proverbial child in the candy store. “But Simon doesn’t like to be kept waiting. Even by his girlfriend. Pity.” There was now a predatory look in Chloe’s eye.

Anne and Charlotte looked at each other. They were sure they hadn’t heard the last of this.

“I’ll let him know that you’ll be a few more minutes.” Chloe turned and shut the door behind her.

Her exit was like a cold shower to Anne. She looked at Charlotte and the other woman was so lovely, but Anne could feel tears forming in her eyes.

“We shouldn’t have, I shouldn’t, we can’t.”

She could feel Charlotte’s arms around her. “Anne, what’s wrong? You’re not going to try telling me you’re straight again, are you?”

“No, no, but Liam, it isn’t fair, I can’t do this to Liam.” Guilt was wracking her, the pain almost physical. She shouldn’t have let this happen, not again. It was only going to hurt more now when she did break it off with Charlotte. Despite that prospect Anne couldn’t help herself snuggling into Charlotte’s embrace, resting her head on the other woman’s shoulder. It felt like more of a betrayal of both Liam and Charlotte, but she needed the comfort.

“Do you love him?” Charlotte asked.

“Yes, yes I do.” Anne replied and felt Charlotte tense. “I’m sorry.”

“You need to talk to Simon, he’ll know what to do.” Anne could only agree.

A few minutes, and some scrabbling around for their clothes, found them both in Simon’s office. Anne had thought it would just be her, but Chloe had said that he wanted to see both of them, so she was here now with Charlotte and Simon. Guilt weighed down on her, pressing on her chest. She was drowning in it. Guilt when she thought of Liam, after what she’d done with Charlotte, again. Guilt when she looked at Charlotte, because the only way to salve her first guilt was to break it off with Charlotte, and break both their hearts. And then there was Simon, Charlotte had said that she and Simon were together, but after what she’d just done with Charlotte, Anne didn’t know how to look Simon in the eye. It was all too much for her. She hadn’t even been tempted to strip, might not have even if Charlotte wasn’t there. She felt small, and worthless, she was letting everybody down. She had to drag herself to her seat when Simon asked them both to sit down, she’d have preferred to turn and run.

“Hmm,” Simon said, turning from one woman to the other, “you both look like you could use a pick-me-up. Let me get you something.”

Anne could hardly bear the silence as Simon prepared their drinks. She shivered as Charlotte patted her hand. Anne knew she meant it to be reassuring, but every touch from the Charlotte made her guilt flare.

Simon wasn’t satisfied until they’d both drunk at least half their cups. Anne was glad she’d obliged, she could feel her worries melting away. Simon always seemed to know what was best, maybe he could help her. She focussed on him, the rest of the world, even Charlotte, melting away.

“Now Anne, I hope Charlotte has told you our good news,” Charlotte briefly swam into Anne’s view as Simon took the brunette’s hand. They look so good together, thought Anne.

“Uh huh,” Anne replied, dreamily.

“And may I ask how you celebrated the news?” Simon’s eyebrows were raised and his expression a perfect mock-innocence. It was clear he already knew the answer.

“Well, we,” Anne wanted to tell the truth, but she couldn’t manage it, her tongue was getting tied in knots and her thoughts were so sluggish. She took another mouthful of her drink to try to clear them.

She heard Charlotte giggle, such a pretty sound. “You mean you didn’t hear us through the walls? I thought Anne was going to scream the place down.” Charlotte’s voice was soft and slurred. Must have worn her out Anne thought.

“Of course I did,” Simon smiled.

Anne frowned, trying to concentrate, “You know, you’re not mad?” Her mind was all a-jumble, it was hard to concentrate. She finished her drink, hoping it would help.

Simon took her cup, as he answered. “Of course not, why would I be? My beautiful girlfriend with another beautiful woman? Please.” He took Charlotte’s cup as well, and soon returned with another for each of them.

“As far as I am concerned you two are free to do as you like. You both have needs, let’s be frank, that a man can’t meet. That’s true, isn’t it?”

Anne could only agree. She knew now that she wasn’t straight. She’d been silly to insist on so transparent a falsehood. She heard Charlotte agreeing too.

“In fact, you’re both deeply attracted to each other. Look at each other, you can’t deny it, you want each other so badly.” Anne could tell Simon didn’t mind, his tone was warm and friendly. It made her feel warm too.

Anne found herself looking into Charlotte’s eyes. She wondered if her eyes were as wide as Charlotte’s, the pupils so dilated. She wanted nothing more than to fall into Charlotte’s eyes, the blue so deep and serene.

“But don’t forget,” Simon said, with a much more serious note in his voice, “that Charlotte is in love with me, deeply in love with me. Isn’t that right dear?”

“Yes Simon.” Anne could hear the dreamy tone in Charlotte’s voice, could tell from it how much Charlotte was in love with Simon.

Anne had the strange impression that the conversation repeated itself a few times, but she dismissed the idea, the thought of them saying the same things over and over made no sense.

“Now,” said Simon, “I’m glad we have that sorted. But Anne, I think there’s something still bothering you. What is it?”

“Liam,” Anne surprised herself by saying. She’d thought it would be hard to be honest. She should have known, she thought, she was so comfortable talking to Simon.

“And what is it about Liam?”

“I feel guilty, being with Charlotte is making me feel guilty.”

“Hmm, it might be better if I talk to you alone then. Charlotte, dear, run along now, I’ll see you later.”

Anne saw her lover rise and embrace her boyfriend, sharing a deep and passionate kiss. She watched Simon’s hands roam all over Charlotte’s body. She couldn’t blame Simon, she knew what that body felt like. They took their time, but Anne didn’t mind. At the end Simon had one arm around Charlotte, holding her firmly, while the other thrust into her panties, Charlotte’s skirt around her ankles. Anne watched as Charlotte writhed on Simon’s hand, his fingers obviously finding just the right places. She was fascinated, her eyes glued to the scene in front of her, she had never had such a clear view of Charlotte in ecstasy, always being somewhat distracted herself at the time. Charlotte was so beautiful aroused, maybe no more so than she ever was, but different, her cheeks flushed, eyes wide. Anne couldn’t resist touching herself, only gently though, she didn’t want to miss a moment. Charlotte moaned, then threw her head back and cried out as she came. Anne couldn’t stop herself giving a happy sigh. At least she wasn’t causing any trouble between Charlotte and Simon.

Then the new couple kissed again and Charlotte whispered something in Simon’s ear. Anne thought it was “I can’t wait until you fuck me again.”

Simon said “Soon.” After she’d put her skirt back on Charlotte blew Anne a kiss and left.

Anne could see Simon considering her, “Now, Anne, I think you’d be more comfortable out of those clothes.” Anne started to rise, then Simon said. “No, just lie there, let me help you out of them.” Suddenly the effort seemed almost beyond her.

Simon took his time disrobing her. As he undid Anne’s blouse he caressed and fondled her breasts, her back arching, offering them to him, the attention splintering her thoughts. By the time he removed her bra her nipples were so erect it was almost painful. He kissed her breasts, Anne didn’t think he missed an inch of them, top, bottom, sucking and biting at her nipples. She was so aroused, the feelings coursing through her, so wet that she was afraid she’d stain his chair. He gave one last playful, painful, oh so pleasurable, tweak of her nipples and his hands were on her legs, running up their length, slowly, wonderfully, making their way to her centre, teasing her through her clothes, just enough of a touch to have her dying for more. She couldn’t help writhing on her chair. He loosened her skirt, then his hand was inside her panties, his fingers inside her and Anne knew why Charlotte had looked the way she did. Simon knew exactly where to touch, where to stroke, on her lips, inside her, how to make her clit sing. Anne threw her head back against the chair, felt her back arch, as she came.

She felt Simon remove his hand as she slumped back in her chair. Anne heard him talking but couldn’t quite make out the words. Simon was still touching her, a gentle series of strokes, tracing the line formed by her lower lips, finishing with just a brush on her clit, before he started again. He was saying something about Liam, how she had to remember how much she loved Liam. That was fine, Anne knew she loved Liam. Simon was saying other things as well, but she couldn’t quite catch them. It didn’t concern her, she knew she was listening just as much as he wanted her to.

Anne found herself sitting upright. She was sitting on Simon’s lap, her arms around his neck. She was naked, and she couldn’t remember moving from her chair to here, but that didn’t matter. Simon’s fingers were inside her again, while with the other hand he playfully flicked her nipples. She felt so wonderful and relaxed as Simon stroked her, there was no reason for her to worry about anything.

“Do you know what’s going to happen now Anne?”

Anne’s first thought was to say that she was going to cum, but while that was true, the promise of her building arousal growing with each breath, with each touch, she knew that wasn’t the answer Simon wanted.

“We, we’re, g-going to have s-sex.” Words weren’t easy, not with what Simon was doing to her.

“That’s right Anne, good,” Anne could hear the smile in Simon’s voice, but there was no way that she could focus enough to see it. “How long have we been having sex?”

“Umm, ahhhh, I don’t, don’t know, weeks? Oooh, uh.” Anne couldn’t believe that she hadn’t cum yet, Simon was keeping her just on the edge. It was awful and delicious, she pushed her hips at his hand, trying for that last little touch.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said, “not yet. But yes, weeks, I haven’t kept strict count either, but yes.” He paused, stroked her again, the fires turning her legs rigid. “And have you felt guilty about it?”

“N-no,” she realised that she hadn’t, not at all.

“So we’ve been having sex for quite some time and you don’t feel guilty about it. You’ve been having sex with someone other than Liam and there’s no guilt.”

No guilt. Anne realised that Simon was right, there was no guilt. Her eyes closed, her head fell back, she was so close.

“If having sex with me doesn’t cause any guilt, then neither should having sex with anyone else.”

The strokes from his hand were breaking her thoughts into a million pieces, but the words were clear to her. She thought she’d heard them before, somewhere, sometime, recently, so close. It didn’t matter. What mattered were the truth of the words. She shouldn’t feel guilty having sex with someone else.

“In fact, you love Liam more now than you did before.”

That was right too. She worried so much about Liam, cared for him, didn’t want to hurt him. She did love him now more than she ever had.

“So having sex with me, with Charlotte, caring about Charlotte, doesn’t hurt your love for Liam.” The stroking of his fingers was driving into her, more than just the physical touch, she could feel it deep in her body. His words were driving into her as well, finding echoes deep in her mind.

“Y-yes, yes,” Anne cried out. It was to what Simon was saying and to what he was doing, please, she was so close now.

“So if it doesn’t hurt, there shouldn’t be any guilt. You won’t,” Simon’s fingers were thrusting even deeper now, “feel any guilt about having sex with other people.”

“No g-guilt.” That was right, thought Anne, there couldn’t be any guilt about something so good. Her arms had slipped down around his shoulder and she felt her grip on Simon tighten, her breaths coming short and sharp as he led her again and again to the edge.

“You can have sex with other people and still love Liam, love Charlotte, so much. Liam might not understand though, so the only other man you can have sex with is me, that’s all right, because it’s safe, I’m with Charlotte and you love Charlotte as much as you love Liam.” That made sense, as much as anything could make sense to Anne at that moment. The only other man she could have sex with was Simon. Her eyes widened even further as she realised he had said nothing about other women.

“But you can’t tell Liam. And that’s all right. It will be your little secret, no guilt, just your little secret that’s oh, so, pleasurable.” Simon’s fingers had gone just that little bit deeper, put a little more pressure on her nub and Anne cried out, her orgasm flowing and flowing. As the feelings ebbed away she nuzzled back into Simon, feeling the love she had for Liam and Charlotte.

Simon smiled down at her. “And now Anne, shall we have sex?”

Of course she’d have sex with Simon. It was fun, and relaxing, and nothing to feel guilty about.

Anne looked in the mirror. She needed to finish getting ready. Liam would be home soon and she had to be finished by then. She stole a glance at the clock, it looked like she’d be fine. He’d called her from the airport and she had a pretty good idea how long it would take to get to their home by taxi, she’d done the trip enough times herself. She could stop rushing and relax a little. Taking a deep breath, letting the tension run down her arms, through her hands and out of her fingertips she let her mind drift back to the sex she’d had with Simon. He’d bent her across his desk and taken her from behind, hard and deep, a hand on her back hardly letting her move at all. She’d been a little amazed at his stamina, because she had a fair idea that he’d already had sex with Charlotte. But then, so had she. His thrusts had almost driven her into the desk, her breasts squashed into its surface. And then, when they’d both finished, he’d turned her over, onto her back, and they’d started again. He must have noticed her quizzical look, he’d said just one word, “Biochemist.” For that second stint she’d been able to match his rhythm and all her cares had melted away.

As she’d dressed, fixed her hair and makeup, Simon had asked her how the case was going. Anne had told him everything Owen had said, about the meeting with Revesby and how it might all be over soon.

Simon had looked thoughtful, and a little sad, “Well, you might be leaving us soon then. Oh well. Still it doesn’t sound like you’ll have much to do in the meantime. We’ll have to think of some ways to keep you occupied. Why don’t you do as much work as you can this afternoon, and let me think about it.”

It had sounded like a good idea to Anne, and she’d surprised herself how much she’d gotten through by the time she’d left. Maybe the lack of interruptions, so unlike the morning, had helped, she thought ruefully.

Reminiscing over, Anne posed, spun, checking herself in the mirror. She thought she had the look that she was after. A short skirt, tight around her hips, the tops of her stockings clearly visible as were the suspenders that held them up. The blouse was frilly, and tight, and not all the buttons were done up. There was just a hint of bra visible. Her heels were amongst the highest she had. The clothes were all hers, but she rarely wore them, and never together. She still needed to finish her makeup. She’d put on a bit more than she usually used, well, quite a lot more, she admitted. She rarely wore eyeliner that thick, mascara that noticeable or lipstick that shiny and red and never all together, but she thought it was worth it.

“Slut.” She whispered at the image in the mirror. It was the look she was after, not one she’d ever tried before, well not since some half-hearted bumbling attempts in her teen years, aspiring to what she then thought was a grown-up look. She wanted to treat Liam to something special when he came back. She wasn’t sure where the idea had come from, it just seemed to have popped into her head from somewhere. It did seem like a good idea. And, she admitted, she was about to have sex with a third person in one day. Even if the last one was her boyfriend, the look sort of fitted. She may not feel guilty, but she did feel just a little bit slutty. It didn’t feel bad though, or if it did, only in a very good way. She was just finishing curling her eyelashes when she heard the door open.

“Anne?” she heard Liam call out.

“Just a sec,” she replied, hurriedly putting on her most dangling earrings. Then she hurried to the front of the apartment, at least as fast as she could manage on her heels.

Rounding the corner to their entrance hallway she stopped and leant against the wall, pointing the toes on one leg to show its length as she pouted at Liam.

Anne could see the confusion on Liam’s face “Anne? Is that you?”

“Of course it’s me, silly,” She replied, running a hand along her side, starting at her at her stocking clad thigh and ending in her hair, making sure her long, fake, fingernails were on display.

“What, what?”

Anne shook her head, then strutted over to her boyfriend, “Welcome home, Liam” she said, before kissing him, her tongue probing.

Liam returned the kiss, their arms around each other, before Anne’s dropped lower to fondle his bum.

Her boyfriend pulled back, eyebrows raised in surprise. “So, umm, this, is,” he waved vaguely at her.

“What do you think it is?” Anne replied. She tossed her head, giving him her best smouldering look, one fingernail slowing tracing a circle around a nipple through the sheer blouse. Then she slipped to her knees and undid the zipper in Liam’s jeans.

“Umm, you sure about this Anne? It’s just that I’m a bit tired and I need oh, ahhhhhhh,” Anne was only half-listening to what Liam was saying. She thought she knew exactly what he needed. She definitely knew what she wanted. She paused in her attentions to his cock just long enough to say. “I’ll get you a drink a in a minute. I’m having mine first though.”

He was almost hard enough, her touch and kisses having rapidly brought him erect. She kissed the tip of his cock, then her lips engulfed it. Anne hoped Liam liked the look of her bright ruby red lips wrapped around him. Perhaps he did, because he was soon fully erect. The sensation of him in her mouth was making her body hum. She took her time, he probably was a little tired from the trip and she wanted to make this worthwhile. Her lips slipped up and down, her tongue playing over the silky skin. Sometimes she’d stop, and then kiss Liam’s cock, passionately, leaving some of her lipstick behind. But she didn’t spend much time on that, because she wanted him in her mouth, wanted as much of his length as she could handle. The bobbing of her head, the feeling of fullness in her mouth, was sending delicious shivers through her body, Anne could feel herself almost ready to come. Then the thrusts that Liam had been making in return became more urgent, she took him as far down her throat as she could, ignoring any urge to gag, ignoring the need to breathe. One final movement, hard, immediate, and he came, spilling his load down her throat. Anne held him as long as she could, swallowed as much as she could, then slipped off, smiling up at her boyfriend.

“I’ll get you that drink now.” Anne said as she walked away from him, one foot carefully planted in front of the other to get the maximum sway out of her arse.

Anne listened as Liam talked about his trip, making the right noises at the right times. She did want to know, but she could get him to fill in the details later. For now, other things were more important. After he’d finished the drink, and she’d thought it had been long enough, she bent over the back of one of their lounge chairs and simply said “Take me.” She didn’t have to wait long and it was easy enough for Liam. She was so wet, and she may have worn stockings and suspenders, but panties were something she’d done without.

After that Anne lost count of the number of times they both came. She didn’t lose one stitch of clothing, it was part of the image, part of the fantasy she was giving Liam. Though at times they slipped, exposing her tits and pussy. After the lounge, they started on the walls, she was pressed up against them, both facing them, raising herself up on tiptoes, head turned, cheek hard against the wall, gasping out Liam’s name, and then with her back to the wall, legs wrapped around Liam, crying out, as he drove into her.

At one point, as they caught their breath, Anne smiled, thinking of Simon, grateful for the little pill he’d given her to put in Liam’s drink. An image of Charlotte drifted through her mind. Making love to Charlotte wasn’t the same as making love to Liam. They were both good, but, different. Anne wished she could be in two places at once.

But it was only a fleeting thought. Because she was with her boyfriend now, and he was long and hard and deep within her, and she didn’t feel any guilt, not even at the memories of the last few days.

(To be continued)