Vicki

I had to agree of course. Without going into details with Vicki, it was the one frustration I had with Sue. A wonderful woman and I loved her deeply - but when it came to love-making, to sex - Sue was, as I have said, lacking in imagination or a willingness to free-up her ideas.

'Yes, I agree. I believe imagination can make all the difference in the world between just good sex - and fantastic sex.'

'I knew you would feel that way too. I admit that I often get more pleasure from just the anticipation of love-making than I do from the act itself. That's why I often like being the one who pleases my lover, rather than just the one on the receiving end. It gives me more time - and I end up getting more actual pleasure that way.

Is that greedy or selfish of me do you think?' she added.

I grinned, then said - 'Not if I'm the one on the receiving end Vicki!'

She smiled too. 'Don't worry, you will be! All in good time John.'

We talked for a while longer and now I found that she picked-up, turned around and magnified, then played back to me, every single word or phrase that had even a vaguely sexual connotation.

It was an incredible situation. Sitting alongside one of the most stunning, sexually attractive woman I had probably ever seen. Taking every opportunity - and they were almost continuous - to drink in the sight of her breasts, her smooth, rounded thighs, feeling the warmth from the closeness of her exciting body and trying to imagine the physical delights she had in store for me and herself - yet, just sitting, chatting as we slowly drank our pre-dinner drinks.

Not surprisingly my cock responded to the excitement I felt - but with little or no room to expand, just pressed hard against the confines of my trousers, in time becoming almost painful. So it was with genuine relief that I eventually heard her say - 'I think dinner is about ready now, how about you John?'

'More than ready - but I want you for desert!'

'Oh, we'll have to see about that - I may have other treats in mind!'

I opened and poured the wine while Vicki served the food, which turned out to be a tender, spicy chicken casserole, just the smell of which made me realise that I was actually hungry - for food, as well as for her.

She sat on the opposite side of the table and my eyes were constantly drawn to her magnificent breasts, that swayed and moved excitingly as she ate and drank Then I noticed that by altering my position fractionally I could see, down through the glass table-top, her lap and thighs.

She was sitting with her legs just a little apart and the way the edges of her negligee fell, left the inside of one thigh partially visible. The whiteness of her skin contrasting with the dark green silk was tantalising and as the food satisfied one hunger, the sight of her breasts above and her thigh below stirred the other one, deep inside me, again.

Obviously Vicki saw where my attention was centred and when I did look up at her briefly, her eyes caught and held mine momentarily and she smiled. By the time I looked down again I saw that she now sat with her legs a little more apart. As I watched, the edge of her negligee slipped slowly off from one thigh, and in falling, exposed the complete length of it and I found that I could now see almost right the way up to her tiny panties!

Even as I strained to get a better look at what was still hidden from me, she slowly lifted one foot and began to rub it up and down the inside of my leg. That movement caused the other half of her negligee to slip off too, completely exposing the skimpy triangle of wispy stuff - there was barely enough of it to cover her sex and through it I found I could see the dark shadow of the curling delta of her bush.

As I stared, Vicki deliberately moved her plate of unfinished food to one side, clearing my view down through the table-top and then, equally deliberately - parted her thighs further. Her actions exposing for me the outline of the full-swelling mound and below, the crease where the tight panties cut into the slit between her love-lips.

'Does this turn you on John?' she asked softly.

I was so lost in the thoughts triggered by the sight of her that she had to ask the question a second time before I replied, with difficulty dragging my attention from the delights so willingly exposed for me.

'Turn me on? What do you think Vicki?'

Even in the half-light I could see that her eyes were once more becoming slightly clouded. 'What I like to think is - that your cock is already getting bigger, harder - just from you looking at me like this. Is it?'

'It certainly is - much bigger!'

'That's good - I like to think of that.' she said dreamily. Then, in a more normal tone of voice. 'But it's a bit unfair really. I mean, here I am - half-naked for you - and there you are, fully dressed. You can look at me as much as you please of course, you know I like that. But I have to make do with pictures in my head. That's not fair, really it's not!'

With that she pushed herself away from the table, stood, then purposefully came around behind me - bending over one shoulder to whisper in my ear.

Her perfume, which until then had in part been masked by the scented candles and then by the spicy, dinner dish, now filled my nostrils. That and the gentle pressure of her heavy breasts on my shoulder, after all that I had been enjoying visually, made my head spin and my blood pound even harder.

'While I get the desert, would you do something for me?'

I nodded.

'Take off your shoes, jacket, trousers and underpants - if you are wearing any that is!' she added with a throaty chuckle. 'Then I can look at you, while you continue looking at me. Will you do that for me?'

I nodded again and as she collected the dishes and headed for the kitchen, began to take off the things she had asked me to.

She was gone for longer than I anticipated and although, when I had first taken off my underpants and my cock had, for the first time had room to move, been able to rear almost vertically, after a few minutes in that strange situation its arousal began to slacken again, until it lay in the crease where my thigh and groin joined, my balls resting on the smooth surface of the chair.

After what seemed an interminable length of time she returned from the kitchen, carrying two glass dishes and as she walked towards me the folds of her negligee swirled about her legs and through them I was able to catch an occasional glimpse - at the apex of her long, smooth thighs - intermittent flashes of darkly curling hair. I realised that while in the kitchen, she had taken off her panties!

She stopped, just a few steps away from the table.

The sight of her like that and the knowledge that she was now completely naked beneath those flimsy folds, was enough to breath new life into my cock and I felt it begin to stir and as blood pumped back into it, roll slowly across my thigh, gradually stiffening it again.

'That's the kind of salute I really love to see John!' she said and as I looked up into her eyes I saw that she had been watching my cock's reaction.

Other than our slow breathing, there wasn't a sound in the room - I sat, staring openly at her body. My mind using the sight, closeness and promise of her body to conjure up a series of exciting pictures, that in turn fuelled the arousal of my sex.

I looked up again to see her eyes staring directly down through the table and knowing how much pleasure she got from watching me becoming aroused excited my own reaction even further. In that situation it didn't take long for my cock to become fully erect, to stand proudly, quivering slightly, its head just brushing the underside of the glass.

'Aaah!' I heard, then, 'Yes John. Yes, that is magnificent! Even more impressive than I had imagined, or hoped for.'

Her attention was locked on to my cock. Even as she moved slowly forward to put the dishes down on the far end of the table she didn't take her eyes off it. Then, sweeping her negligee behind her, she sat down, this time spreading her legs wide apart. For a few moments she simply sat there, looking down at my rigidly quivering cock, moistening her lips slightly - then, quite deliberately, she began to lightly brush her finger-tips over and around her pouting sex.

Even through the glass I could see the moisture being transferred from her sex to her fingers as they played, caressed and excited the slightly parted, blushing entrance and the bud above.

'Mmm, that's nice.' she said quietly to herself.

She continued caressing herself, never once taking her eyes off my cock, which continued to strain upwards, throbbing and twitching as just simply watching her, further aroused my need for her. How long we stayed that way, Vicki slowly stimulating herself, me watching her, I really don't know but just as I thought I must have her, or burst - she broke the spell.

'John, there's some coffee in the kitchen, would you mind fetching it please.'

Though bewildered by her request, I answered - 'Of course.' - stood and began to head for the kitchen. She swivelled on her chair so that she didn't miss a single moment of the sight of my cock swaying and bouncing as I walked past her and across the room.

I can't describe the complex emotions and sensations that coursed through me. My brain was spinning, my body tense, every nerve seemed to be afire. For two days I had been mentally and physically anticipating this evening, Vicki's obviously more than willing body and the 'surprises' it, her fertile imagination and unusual tastes in sex had promised.

Seeing her, tantalisingly semi-naked for an hour or more and watching her own arousal and self-stimulation had brought me to almost fever pitch.

Yet, just when I thought her 'game' was about to progress to the point where I could begin to participate physically - and begin to actually experience her brand of love-making - she had pushed up my frustration level several more notches, by sending me on this meaningless chore.

In the brightness of the kitchen light I could see that my cock-head was sticky with clear drops of pre-cum, I spread it over the swollen and sensitive head, making it glisten - stroking the painfully throbbing shaft in a self-torture of pleasure and frustration.

The urge to completely relieve the incredible pressure within was enormous but, as I had to believe that Vicki would eventually give me even greater delights than mere self-relief could, I stopped, took several deep breaths, then picked up the tray of coffee and cups and turned to carry them back to the other room.

As I entered I was blinded by a brilliant flash!

Unable to shield my eyes because of the tray I was carrying I could only shut them tightly, trying to will away the after-images that still burned in them. But even through the clenched eye-lids I was conscious of the familiar whirring of a Polaroid camera and then a second flash.

When at last my eyes had sufficiently recovered I risked opening them again, cautiously, half expecting yet another flash. But no, just Vicki, sitting facing me, camera in hand and a big, satisfied grin on her face.

'Sorry if I startled you John. You look just too good - I had to have a picture of you. I didn't know how you would feel about posing, so just in case you said 'No' I thought I had better sneak one. O.K.?'

I still couldn't see properly but at least well enough to be able to put the tray down on the table.

'I don't mind - so long as you keep them to yourself. If you know what I mean!'

'Sue? I'd never do that John. That's one thing you can be absolutely sure of.'

'Fine. I suppose I should be flattered in a way - you wanting me in your scrap-book. You might let me see it sometime. Knowing you, it's probably fascinating!'

She laughed. 'Well, yes. At least I think so. Arousing, stimulating too - for me at least. And though I have to say it myself, there are quite a few very exciting shots in the collection now. But who knows, I might get some even better ones of you - later! If you really wouldn't mind.'

'We'll see. But I'd want to have a look at the others first, see what the competition is like.'

She laughed again, her eyes sparkling brightly as she replied. 'O.K. - I'll put it on the list of things for us to do - later! But,' she continued and, as she spoke, dropped her eyes to re-focus on my still rigid cock, sticking out only an arm's length away from her. 'As to the competition - I wouldn't even worry about it!'

She put down the camera and reached out for me. 'Come here - that looks dangerously swollen. I think we need to get rid of some of that pressure - so we can really enjoy ourselves properly, later!' she added as she reached out for my cock.

Just the touch of her cool, slender fingers on my hot, throbbing shaft sent unbelievable thrills shooting through me, as I moved closer, she curled them around the full girth of the swollen, jerking flesh and looking up into my eyes, said.

'It's even bigger than it looks John! No wonder Sue hangs on to you - so would I!'

'You are Vicki - you are hanging on to me!' I replied, looking down at her hand.

She gave me a quick smile then her eyes returned to watch the effect her slowly moving fingers were having on me. Watching the bulbous head, sticky with my pre-cum, swelling more, darkening in colour, becoming even more shiny as it responded to her light caresses.

'Mmm - it feels as good as it looks too.' She paused a moment and my stomach and thigh muscles jerked tight as she pumped the full length of me two or three times, the head and shaft both swelling even further in response. 'And now I'm going to see if it tastes as good as it looks and feels!'

Her eyes, now heavily clouded, flicked up briefly and I watched in choking silence as her smile broadened, her wet lips and mouth opened wide and she moved forward to take my entire cock-head within them.

It was only with incredible difficulty that I was able to resist the overpowering urge to thrust hard forward, to bury myself to the hilt in her warm, wet mouth and throat, that were, as she moved her head back and forth, sending shock-waves of pleasure shooting through me.

All the previous rises and falls in levels of sexual need that her various 'on-again', 'off-again' actions had produced, now seemed in the distant past. I was only conscious of the fast rising pressure that was building, like the force beneath a capped oil-well. I could feel my aching balls tightening as the semen gathered for the moment when it would gush, in an unstoppable jet, up the heaving length of my over-stimulated shaft.

I was so overwhelmed by the sensational thrills that Vicki's fingers, hands, lips and mouth were giving me that I was only vaguely aware of her reaching for something on the table.

Then, her hand's pumping increased speed and, as she let the saliva coated head slip from her mouth, increased the length of her stroke, so that her fingers flicked up over the bulbous head each time. As I felt my entire body tauten and my previous gasps of pleasure turning to more rapid, urgent grunts, I heard a faint clink of china!

I opened my eyes and looked down, to see her now dark green eyes staring at the iron-hard rod within her flashing hand - and, in her other - a half-filled cup of coffee!

There was barely time to make sense of what I saw before the orgasm wracked my body. Muscles locked, nerve-ends screamed, a deep-throated growl rose up through me to break in a guttural cry from my throat - as the first, scalding jet erupted in front of Vicki's wide-staring eyes.

The force shot it clear across the top of the cup she was holding, to splatter across the table-top. But by tilting the cup slightly, she was luckier with the second, third and fourth jets - I watched with mixed feelings as they splashed messily into the black coffee and stuck to the sides of the cup, congealing there lumpily.

Vicki's grip of me tightened as her strokes became slower, urging up from my depths the last, reluctant spurts, drops and even the final dribble.

My knees buckled as the effects of the orgasm began to subside and as previously tensed muscles suddenly relaxed and I had to grab hold of the back of Vicki's chair for support.

She put down the cup and picked up a serviette - but cleaned up my slowly shrinking cock with her tongue and mouth - only when she was satisfied that she had licked and sucked me thoroughly, then using it to dry me. Then she picked up the sticky cup again and, after stirring the now glutinous semen as much as possible, drank it all down in one draught.

Finally she looked up into my eyes again - 'Mmm - that's the way I really like my coffee!'

As she spoke I saw that the hand that had given me so much pleasure was now down between her thighs, moving slowly, rhythmically.

'Why don't you let me do that for you?' I asked softly.

She smiled. 'Later John - we still have plenty of time, time for everything. And - now that we've released the immediate pressure for you - we'll both enjoy it all the more.'

'I doubt I could enjoy it more than I did just then Vicki.'

She stopped her slow stimulation of herself, instead taking hold of my hand with her now damp and sticky fingers. 'You will, I promise you John - you will!

Now,' she said brightly, almost as though nothing had happened, 'let's have some desert - you like fresh fruit salad I hope.'

'With cream?' I asked with a grin.

'With cream - not as exciting as the 'cream' you gave me for my coffee - but at least there's more of it!' she responded cheekily.

'Oh, I'm sure there'll be more where that came from Vicki - in a little while anyway.'

'I certainly hope so!'

*

Chapter 3

Talking About It

She insisted I stay semi-naked and as she was too there really wasn't much I could argue about. Though in my then unaroused state I did feel a bit embarrassed, even a little foolish. But when I saw the obvious pleasure she got from her frequent and lingering looks at my crotch I became more comfortable and, after a while, admit I began to actually enjoy the new experience - of being a 'sex object'!

We had the desert, coffee - without my input this time - and then Vicki suggested we move to the sofa. 'We'll be more comfortable there - these chairs get a bit hard on the bottom after a while.'

I got a full-throated laugh from her with my response to that. 'Actually I got a bit 'hard' on the chair Vicki!'

We took fresh coffee with us and the unfinished bottle of wine and when we had settled, she wasted no time in bringing our conversation round to the subject that interested her the most.

'Would you talk to me about yourself? I mean, your sexuality. You know, what turns you on, your fantasies - those things. I'd love to know.'

'That's a tricky question Vicki. There's not a single, straightforward answer to that. It varies. It must for you too. One thing one day, another thing another day or in different circumstances.'

'Yes, of course I understand that - and agree. But, if you look back at the times you remember best, the most exciting, satisfying times - isn't there a pattern, some sort of common link?'

'I don't think I've ever thought about it quite as analytically as that.'

'Oh come on John! You're a writer - if anyone looked at themselves in that way - a writer must!'

'Well,' I admitted, 'maybe I've thought about it a bit - sometimes.' she grinned happily.

'I knew it! When you agreed with me earlier, you know - about imagination being even more important in a lover than in a writer - I knew you understood, knew you must have thought about it - a lot!'

'O.K., O.K.! I admit it. There are times when I'm almost totally preoccupied with love-making, sex. The last two days, for instance. I've done no work at all - spent most of it thinking about you - about tonight!'