Lucinda's New Life - Part 2 - Distortion free porn video

Monday 14th July

Cindy was still sprawled naked and motionless on the rumpled sheets when, very early that morning, Peter left the apartment to start the long drive to Southampton. He felt exhausted after a largely sleepless night during which his almost insatiable wife had made a relentless series of demands on his body. It was only the second such night in many, many months and had involved the most energetic and imaginative sex he had enjoyed for many years.

He had ejaculated three times in a single night; something he hadn’t done since his teenage years. After their first copulation in the missionary position, Lucinda had insisted he fucked her on her knees on the bed, bent over the back of the sofa, lying on the kitchen table and once even against the wall of the shower.

Even that didn’t seem to satisfy her. Thank God he had kept up a vigorous training programme after his retirement from international sport. It had probably saved his back from serious damage. As it was, he was seriously sore between his thighs, his lips were numb and his neck ached from hours of kissing and cunnilingus.

He wondered what to tell his wife’s worried father. There was no denying that his beloved Cinders had changed but how do you tell a man that his daughter had suddenly become a slut? Peter was genuinely fond of his father-in-law and respected him both as a family man and a businessman. He did not want to upset Hugo unless it was absolutely necessary; if the truth could wait a few days then that would be best, he reasoned.

Meanwhile he had a case to progress in court and some important telephone calls to make. He pressed the ‘dial’ button on his steering wheel and waited for the familiar female voice to answer.

“Victoria?”

“Yes, Mister Mountfield?”

“I need your help…”

Thank God he had someone he could really rely on; someone he could trust to get things done. Someone who really knew how to support her Boss how he needed, when he needed it.

*

It was past nine o’clock when Cindy dragged herself out of bed, once again a full hour and a half after she would normally have been at her desk. Her legs and hips ached from all those hours of wonderful sex in so many positions, her lower back was scuffed from being rubbed over and over against the sheet and her vulva was fiery red and sore.

She looked at the indentation in the pillow next to hers where her gorgeous, caring husband had slept and felt so happy! She looked at the stained, rumpled sheets where her juices and her husband’s semen had oozed from her to form a hard crust.

Cindy smiled; for the first time in her life, she really understood what her priorities had to be. Her job and all that went with it were fun and a challenge but for a girl like her, pleasing her husband had to be the most important part of her life.

And doing so had made her feel so good too!

Why she had agreed for Peter to be away from her for two full weeks was beyond her understanding. Surely she should have simply followed him down to Southampton as a good wife would have done. Instead she had wasted time trying to be a woman in what was really a man’s world; time she could have spent taking care of her wonderful husband’s every need.

Still, there was a job to be done at work and she had to get on with it. Whatever her life might become, she was no quitter and had to finish what she had started. Peter had told her so and he was always right in these matters.

She smiled indulgently. Peter couldn’t be relied on to choose wallpaper or carpets or curtains or even her clothes – he always chose things that weren’t anywhere near revealing enough – but in matters of business she knew when to take his advice.

It still annoyed her that the men on site didn’t take her as seriously as they would have taken her father. She was every bit as able as him but for some reason they didn’t realise this.

Perhaps her new name would help. She would get new business cards made up in the name of Cindy and would make them friendlier-looking too. Perhaps even a pretty pink colour - that would be nice.

She smiled when she imagined how pleased the site crew would be when they learned what she had always wanted to be called. There wasn’t a site meeting today but she might just drop round anyway to let them know all about her decision.

They would respect her much more after that! If she was really lucky, Alan the gorgeous IT expert would be there too. He might even have stopped her laptop from flickering this time.

As she dressed carefully, straightening her stockings, clipping them into her new suspender belt and pulling her skin tight, low cut red top over her small breasts, Cindy felt strong and confident. She winced audibly as the gusset of her thong panties scraped against her sore, still-puffy vulva, but the thrill of remembering how she had acquired that particular injury left her with a warm glow in her tummy.

She wrapped the short kilted skirt around her waist, making sure that her stocking tops could be seen when she bent over then slipped her highest black heels onto her dainty feet and looked in the mirror.

No woman had ever looked more business-like and professional. A quick brush of her hair and she would be fit for the cover of Forbes Magazine.

A knock at the door told her that Richard and the limousine were ready to take her to work. She picked up her large handbag – a briefcase was simply too alienating – and, brimming with confidence, crossed to the door.

Tuesday 14th July

The sun was fairly high in the sky as Cindy sat on the stool in front of her dressing table, pulled on the second of her fish-net stockings and smoothed it along her thigh with her palms. She loved the way they made her legs feel and longed to have her gorgeous husband’s hands in the places her own fingers now touched.

She had missed him so badly the previous night. They had spoken on their mobiles in bed for a long time. He had asked her all about her day and how the meeting had gone. She had told him about her new work-name and the positive effect it had hand on the team at the office.

He had sounded pleased which made her glow with satisfaction.

Peter had wanted to know exactly what she had worn to work and she had explained item by item with considerable pride. She had even told him how her professional look had stunned the other directors and their secretaries on the private floor of the busy office block.

Cindy had called in at the site office after working hours to surprise them too. Her new clothes and new, friendlier name couldn’t have gone down better; all the men had been speechless when she had walked unexpectedly into their five-thirty meeting. Even Brian Bloody Barlow had been forced to agree she looked amazing.

She had been lucky with her laptop too. The gorgeous Alan Reid from IT had indeed been there and had brought it back for her. She hadn’t had a chance to try it out yet but he had promised her the work he had done would have a big effect.

Cindy felt a little uneasy about how strongly attracted to Alan she felt. In truth, she had felt unusually attracted to all the men on the site. Why hadn’t she realised this before? After all, they had always been tall, strong and confident. Perhaps her husband’s incredibly good looks had blinded her but now she saw clearly how sexy they all were too.

But there was something special about Alan Reid that made her knees feel weak. How she had ever considered him a pathetic geek was beyond her understanding. He was without doubt the second most attractive man she had ever met, his good looks only exceeded by her husband’s.

Erotic thoughts about him and all the other men had filled her head throughout the journey home. By the time she let herself into their apartment, the gusset of her tiny panties had been soaking wet.

Cindy had told her husband Peter all about this during their telephone conversation, even the effect it had had on her vulva and panties. Far from being embarrassed, speaking the words aloud had actually turned her on even more. It seemed to have had a profound effect on her husband too because for the first time in their relationship they had gone on to enjoy a slow, satisfying session of phone sex.

With the handset on hands-free, she had stripped and done to herself every little thing her sexy husband had commanded, playing with herself, saying naughty things and even hurting herself deliciously before finally bringing herself to several powerful climaxes with her fingers as his low, smooth voice bored deep into her soul.

It had been wonderful, long-lasting and adventurous but it hadn’t been anything like enough to satisfy her.

Afterwards, still uncomfortably aroused, she had put an erotic, artistic movie on DVD on the bedroom screen and, once she had got used to the flickering had enjoyed a lot more fingering. Cindy hadn’t touched herself ‘down there’ this much since she was a student. It had taken the edge off her itch to some extent but still hadn’t truly quenched her thirst.

Her night had been broken by strange erotic dreams in which familiar, good-looking men took advantage of her body in new and exciting ways. She had been helpless to stop them – indeed hadn’t wanted to stop them – and had even climaxed in her sleep.

On waking, Cindy had been so aroused that she had used her fingers yet again. This had made her vulva even sorer but she couldn’t help herself. How she wished she had had a vibrator or even a dildo to help her cope with these new sensations.

She would remedy that omission after work that very day. What had her friends recommended? Rabbit? There was a branch of Ann Summers on her way home. She would ask her driver Richard to wait outside while she nipped in and bought one.

She turned to the TV that was glowing on the bedroom wall. The news had finished, thank God and a programme about plus-size glamour models had started. Cindy felt pleased about this – it was much more interesting than the stock exchange and currency market reports she used to listen to.

God knows why she had ever thought them interesting or important!

For a moment she frowned, annoyed that even this screen was flickering slightly. But the sight of those beautiful, full-bodied girls and their amazing clothes was so distracting that she stopped noticing after a minute or two.

The programme was fascinating. Cindy stopped getting ready for work and sat down to watch. How she wished she could have been a model like them, with all those people watching her, admiring her, wanting her.

Now the models were changing into their next outfits. No skinny waifs there! No, these girls had the rich, rounded bodies of real women. Cindy looked down at her own body, her skinny legs, bony hips and tiny breasts and frowned.

Of course! It suddenly struck her; all those other girls had much bigger boobs than hers!

Men admired and respected girls with big boobs in a way they didn’t respect Cindy. The answer was obvious; she needed big boobs too and she needed them quickly. A proper and expensive breast enhancement was the obvious answer but that took time. Tomorrow she would book herself in with the Harley Street clinic that she knew several of her school friends had used but meanwhile, how could she get bigger boobs quickly?

Padded bras! That was it! Cindy remembered how, when she and her friends were young and just coming into puberty, they used to stuff their bras with tissues or even socks to make themselves look older and more mature. Just as a temporary measure she could do that again. It seemed like the bigger the boobs, the more respect the men gave a girl.

She would show them. They wouldn’t ignore her boobs any longer!

She would buy a couple of padded bras on her way in to work. Cindy had woken so late that the shops were open already but meanwhile she would have to make do with stuffing tissues into the bra she would wear today.

She chose a tight-fitting vest top with a very low front in order to show off her new, temporarily larger boobs to best effect. It felt good. She would feel womanly all day; feminine; not like those hard, nasty flat-chested women who were always bad tempered.

Cindy positively skipped to the shower and began to get ready for work.

Wednesday 15th July

‘Bzzzzzzzzzzz’

‘Aaaaaaaahhhhhhh!’

‘BzzzzBzzzzzBzzzzz’

‘AaaahhhhmmmmmMMMMM!”

A single candle burned low in the bedroom as Cindy’s new Rockin’ Rabbit vibrator brought her to yet another orgasm, alone on the king-sized bed she shared with her amazing, gorgeous husband.

It was three o’clock in the morning and her third major session with the extraordinary device. Cindy could barely believe that something so simple and so inexpensive could bring her so much pleasure. In her youth and before her marriage she had dallied with the occasional sex toy but for a girl as attractive as she had been, the ‘real thing’ had never been hard to find.

Consequently her experience with mechanical arousal was limited and the effect of the powerful machine she had bought the previous evening had been as unexpected as it had been profound.

‘BzzzzzzZZZzzzzZZZzzzzZZZzzzz’

‘Ohhhhhjjjjeeeessssuuuusssssssccchhrriiissstttt!’

Whether it was the thick, knobbly rotating plastic phallus in her vagina, the soft, fast-buzzing rubber lips against her clitoris or the tiny egg-shaped bulb in her rectum, she couldn’t tell. All Cindy knew was that she thought she was about to die, or scream, or pee herself, or perhaps all three at once.

‘BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ’

‘Aaaaaahhhhhhhh….’

She fell back on the pillow, barely conscious as her hand dropped the vibrator, the motor stopped and it slipped noiselessly form her messy, gaping vagina. The bullet in her bottom buzzed on into the night but she didn’t notice it and by the time she woke, the battery would be flat.

She fell into an exhausted sleep.

*

A few hours later she was woken abruptly by a loud knocking on the apartment door. Cindy stirred; her body aching, sticky and exhausted. She opened her eyes and looked at the bedside clock. Eight thirty!

There was another knock.

“Lady Lucinda?”

It was her chauffeur Richard’s voice.

“Lady Lucinda, you asked me to collect you now for your meeting. Are you all right My Lady?”

Oh God! Why did she have to go to work? How could she possibly pretend to be interested in concrete mixes, load-bearing beams and drainage now she had discovered how her body could really respond when it was stimulated in the right way?

She looked at the large plastic phallus lying on the rumpled sheet alongside her. Could something so small and so insignificant really have turned her brain to mush? She longed to send Richard away and indulge herself in another hour of sheer bliss but something deep within her told her she had obligations.

Besides, it might feel even better if she gave herself a few hours’ break.

“Give me half an hour please Richard!”

She slipped the motionless egg from her rectum, then rose from the bed and staggered into the apartment’s hallway.

“And please call me Cindy,” she called through the closed door.

“Of course, Miss… Cindy. I’ll wait in the car.”

Cindy stumbled into the kitchen, filled the kettle and put it on to boil. Coffee was needed; strong coffee and in large quantities. She drank two full glasses of cold water from the tap then turned on the flat screen TV on the kitchen wall.

Her misty, tired eyes barely noticed the persistent flicker as she listened to the morning news above the hiss of white noise. As she prepared her coffee, her attention was caught by the newsreader beginning an article on women in business and how so few of them had top jobs. She was mentioned by name.

Cindy smiled; she was bucking that trend. For a woman to be a Vice-President at her age was unusual. Being good at it was quite an achievement too but Cindy now knew there was more to success in life than just being successful in business.

The women being interviewed had got it all wrong! So had the interviewer! Taking men on at their own game was futile. Women had to use their natural advantages. Now that Cindy understood the importance of appearance; of dressing professionally to show off her body; of being as friendly and approachable as possible, of plentiful sex, she could go even further.

But she was no longer sure that she wanted to go further. Now that she was a fully fertile woman again with a wonderful, devastatingly attractive husband, she was beginning to understand where her place in the world really should be.

She would talk to her father about it, but first she had to ensure the current contract was delivered on time and that meant she had to play the role of businesswomen a little longer, going back to the site as often as it took.

The news channel moved on to foreign affairs; something that she used to follow carefully but which now bored Cindy rigid. She poured herself more coffee then went back to the en-suite bathroom and turned on the shower.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her eye. Something wasn’t quite right. Something about her wasn’t quite the same as the successful business women she had just seen on TV.

Then she got it! Her hair! All the models she had seen on TV had been blonde. Cindy ran her fingers through her rather tangled brown hair. How she hated it! Wouldn’t it be better if she was blonde too?

Most of the women that the men at work respected were blondes. Their pictures were all over the changing room walls; blondes with big breasts. Getting bigger breasts would take time. Padding her bra was having some impact but Cindy could become blonde very quickly.

As she sat on the bedroom stool, pulling on her stockings and garters she smiled inwardly. That was it! It would make such a difference.

She wrapped the tiny skirt round her waist and adjusted it so her stocking tops were just visible then sat in front of the mirror applying an extra-thick layer of makeup.

Yes, Cindy should be blonde. She would call as soon as she got in the car and make an appointment.

She slipped her feet into her highest heels, adjusted the padding in her bra then went down to the car where Richard was waiting.

Thursday 16th July

Cindy was excited as her limousine rolled through London’s busy street towards her office on her last day as a brunette. When she made the same journey the following morning she would be expensively blonde.

With no site visit planned for the day, there had been plenty of time for an appointment at one of the city’s most exclusive salons, so she had given herself the afternoon off. With her money and title, the salon had offered to open late for her, but she had insisted she needed to be home to greet her husband after his tiring week in court.

Peter would be pleased with her new blonde hair and when he learned what she had discovered about the power of her new toy. He would like the idea of her getting new, bigger breasts too.

She fidgeted on the back seat, her laptop open on her knees, her mobile phone’s earpiece in her right ear. The screen was flickering again and that strange noise behind the voice on the phone. These alone would have been enough to irritate her but today everything felt unpleasantly hot.

The car’s air conditioning was switched on and working but although the day itself wasn’t particularly warm, Cindy felt uncomfortable; confined, oppressed, over-heated. What was more, the cheap, skimpy thong panties she was wearing were beginning to chafe both her vulva and between her buttocks.

Why did she feel so hot? It was a bright sunny day but there must be more to it than that. She had felt hot in the night and in her apartment too. Perhaps it was her hormones adjusting now she was no longer on the pill.

She ended her call and stared out of the window at the girls in the street as Richard drove her past. They didn’t look too warm. Perhaps she had foolishly overdressed? Yes, that must be it.

Cindy inspected her clothes; the tiny skirt and high heels framing her bare legs – she hadn’t even considered wearing stockings. There was her tight-fitting vest top too; she was wearing so few clothes that there was little she could shed. She couldn’t go to work without a top or a skirt so the only thing left was her underwear.

Yes, that must be it; stuffed with padding, her bra was too constraining; too thick and heavy. Perhaps she would feel better without it? But where could she undress?

Fortunately the car was large. Cindy wriggled around in the back seat, pulling her vest top over her head and laying it on the bench beside her. Then she reached behind her back and flicked the clasp on her bra. It fell away, releasing her breasts which though not large, stood very firm and proud on her chest.

She inspected them for a moment. Peter had always loved her breasts; he hadn’t been bothered by their diminutive size. He loved to hold them and squeeze them and maybe toy with her large, dark nipples. She looked more closely. Both her nipples and breasts seemed larger and firmer than she remembered. They were shapely too, no sign of dangling yet.

Why should they be hidden away in a silly bra that made her too hot?

Cindy tucked the unwanted bra into the seat pocket then pulled the vest top back over her head, wriggling it down over her wonderful, newly freed boobs.

She felt better already and would feel better still once she could feel the fresh air on her nipples.

No more stupid bras for Cindy, she smiled determinedly as her car pulled up in front of the tall office building.

“I’ll need you at three-thirty, Richard,” she told her familiar, uniformed driver as he held the door open for her.

With her short, tight skirt it was hard to manoeuvre herself out of the vehicle without displaying her underwear but with Richard placing himself carefully to block the view, she managed and with a brief farewell, tottered into the building where she waited for the Executive Lift to whisk her to the Directors’ floor.

*

“Peter?”

“Hugo! Nice to hear from you,” Peter replied, pausing at his desk to take the call.

“How’s the case going?” his father-in-law asked.

“So-so,” came the reply. “I’m not supposed even to think that my client might be uilty but…”

There was an amused snort at the other end of the line.

“So what can I do for you Hugo?”

“Sorry to interrupt you day,” the older man said, “But I’m getting even more concerned about Cinders.”

“I haven’t seen her for a few days,” Peter replied. “But she sounded okay on the phone last night.”

“Just okay? Did she sound… normal?”

The brief silence that followed told the aristocrat all he needed to know.

“Peter she’s behaving strangely again,” he began. “She’s started turning up late for work, disappearing for a few hours during the day and she’s been wearing the most outlandish clothes.”

“What do you mean outlandish?” Peter asked. “I know she’s been takin a few risks fashion-wise but I thought all her friends were doing it.”

The silence was on the other end of the phone now.

“Peter, today your wife and my daughter arrived for work two and a half hours late, then came into a Board Meeting dressed like… like a cheap tart!”

“Goodness!”

“I’ve never seen anything like it. Everyone else was in our normal suits; Cinders was in heels, stockings and suspenders with a crop top and no bra.”

“In a Board Meeting?” her husband sounded aghast.

“Yes, in a damned Board Meeting! You know how important this project is to us; the Minister for Housing was there too for Christ’s sake.”

“How did she behave then?”

“That was the strangest part,” Hugo exclaimed. “She just carried on and made her presentation as if everything was normal. She spoke clearly and precisely and would have impressed us all if only…”

“If only she wasn’t dressed like a tart?”

“Quite.”

There was a long pause before Peter spoke.

“To be honest Hugo, she has been a bit strange at home too. I think you know she and I have gone through a difficult patch in our relationship recently…”

“I guessed something was wrong.”

“Well it seems to be all over. She is more… affectionate now than at any time in our marriage or before. She’s like a different person at times.”

“You mean…?”

“There’s no easy way to say this Hugo. Your daughter is… is behaving at home the way she has been dressing at work.”

“Jesus Christ!”

“I’m sorry, but you did ask…”

“What on earth is she up to? I just hope her mother doesn’t find out before we can put a stop to it!”

The call ended. Peter thought for a minute then summoned his slim, blonde, efficient paralegal PA into his office. She stood in front of his desk, her knees trembling with anticipation.

“Victoria, I’m sorry but I need you to go to my apartment in London and check out a few things for me. It’s urgent; I’m due in court soon so I can’t go.”

“Of course, Mister Mountfield,” she smiled, as if delighted to be asked.

“You still have my spare keys and alarm code?” The girl nodded. “Good. I know I can trust you to be very discreet. I need you to check my wife’s closet and…” he continued his instructions.

Half an hour later, Victoria was driving northwards in her small car, her heart fluttering with excitement.

*

Where had the afternoon gone?

Cindy woke to find herself sitting on the sofa in her lounge with the day growing darker around her. She remembered coming home from the salon, excited about her new blonde hairstyle; she remembered pouring herself a glass of wine and turning on the flickering TV to see the news headlines…

But that had been hours ago. Th TV was still droning and flickering on the wall, but it was nearly eight o’clock now; she had missed an entire afternoon at work and her husband would be due home any time.

Her husband Peter!

A warm glow passed through Cindy when she thought of him. So kind, so handsome, so caring! She wanted to do something special for him that very night. She would cook for him; he would enjoy that.

Cindy turned on her laptop and stared at the screen. That strange flickering had gone completely now, or at least she didn’t notice it any more. The computer booted up quickly and, to her surprise, a recipe page appeared on the screen as soon as it had booted up.

Strange! Had she perhaps been looking up recipes before she fell asleep?

What had she been looking at? Steak! A big fillet with chips and salad. Lots of protein for what she hoped would follow in bed that night.

Cindy rose to her feet and went into the kitchen for a glass of cold water, took a long draught then carried it through to the bathroom to satisfy the demands of her bladder. That job done, she rose to her feet and caught sight of an unfamiliar figure in the over-sink mirror.

It took a moment or two before she realised that it was only her own reflection. She stared at herself, with her blonde bobbed hair, tight top and tiny kilted skirt. She turned from left to right and back again, straightening her clothes and hitching the kilt even higher until her white stocking tops were clearly visible.

She smiled; Cindy had always suspected her wonderful husband secretly preferred blondes. Now they would both find out.

She threw a light jacket over her shoulders, slipped her highest heels back on and went out to the shops.

Friday 17th July

Friday’s meeting was always going to be tough even if Cindy hadn’t arrived over an hour late. The atmosphere in the Portakabin was tense when she arrived and grew tenser as the Site Manager explained the problem.

“It’s geology,” he insisted. “You can’t rely on geology and you can’t fight it. You have to go where it takes you.”

“And where exactly does it take us this time, Mister Barlow?”

The acid comments and harsh tone came very strangely from the throat of a girl dressed in a yellow dress so sheer and so short that not only the colour but the shape of her panties were clearly visible to the assembled men. Her braless nipples showed large and dark through the thin cloth too. They were as hard as the tome of her voice.

Cindy had chosen the dress specifically to please them and, given the serious nature of the meeting, make them respect her. The tactic seemed to be working if the wide-eyed stares and raised eyebrows around her were anything to go by.

“Two weeks,” The Site Manager suggested.

“Two weeks? At a hundred and fifty thousand pounds a week?” Cindy demanded.

“And two hundred tons more concrete,” he added.

“Are you crazy?” The look on Cindy’s heavily made-up face was hard. “Two days maximum. And you use the materials you’ve got!”

“But…”

“Just do your job Mister Barlow,” she said calmly. “And I will do mine.”

Brian Barlow’s face was somewhere between pink and purple as he left the room followed uncertainly by the rest of the team.

The door slammed shut behind them leaving Cindy alone in the meeting room. The plans were still laid out on the table. She looked at them and frowned, then crossed to the low cupboard on which a dozen glasses stood. She took one, filled it from the water cooler then took a long sip as her heartbeat began to return to normal.

She had done what needed to be done and had done it well. Her father would be proud of her; Peter would be proud of her. She looked at her reflection in the window. The blonde hair had been right; it went so well with the brightness of her dress and the warmth of her new name.

She refilled her glass, took another long sip then returned to the table to study the plan of the area where Brian Bloody Barlow’s geological problems were supposed to be.

Brian Bloody Barlow. It was a pity he was so good-looking. She hadn’t enjoyed getting so angry with any of the men but it had had to be done. They were all gorgeous though, especially the IT guy. They had been nice to her too, had admired her new clothes and hair, and simply couldn’t keep their eyes off her body.

Okay they came out with a few sexist comments now and again but there was no harm in that was there?

So what might she suggest to get them out of the problem? Cindy leaned over the plans, studying the detail carefully as her father would have done, not noticing the door opening silently and a figure entering the room.

A moment later, she felt the warmth of a presence behind her. She began to stand upright and turn to see who it was but strong hands held her shoulders firmly.

“Shhh! It’s all right!” A voice hissed calmingly in her ear.

She did not recognise the voice but there was something about it that immediately made her tummy churn with excitement and her knees go weak. The warm body moved closer until she could feel its heat against her shoulders, then she felt the soft touch of strong male hands on the back of her thighs.

Cindy knew she should have turned straight away and slapped the owner of those hands in the face, but an instinct even stronger told her not to; to let those hands continue their work.

“Close your eyes, Cindy!”

The voice hissed again. She felt the hands slide confidently down the back of her thighs, then return to her bottom. They did it again, then a third time, Cindy’s whole body shivering with excitement it the touch of whoever this man was. Again she knew this was wrong; again she knew she should stop it immediately but as before, something deep inside her brain prevented her from offering any resistance.

A minute or two later, she felt herself being bent gently but forcibly forward until her face was over the meeting room table, her bottom presented towards the owner of those strong, determined hands.

The hands moved again, raising her skirt until the fabric was laid across her lower back. Cindy’s knees began to tremble and her heart thumped hard but still she was unable to move or even turn her head.

She felt confident fingers in the sides of her thong; she felt the elastic being dragged down over her hips and slid down her legs until it rested in the curve of her knees but still that unidentifiable something prevented her from simply turning round and stopping it happening.

A single warm finger was drawn upwards across her protruding slit from behind. This was an invasion of her personal space way beyond anything she had even imagined but still she couldn’t assert herself and take control.

Besides it felt so good! Almost of its own accord, her body pressed backwards against the intruding hand as it explored her vulva from her anus to her clitoris.

Cindy sighed, her eyes still closed as the moving finger slid up and down her rapidly moistening slit, each movement weakening her already feeble desire to put an end to this assault, before dipping momentarily into the mouth of her weeping vagina.

“Mmnm!”

Her voice betrayed her. The voice that should have screamed ‘No!’, the voice that should have brought the insubordinate bastard to his knees remained silent. A long, low moan was all that escaped her lips.

The finger grew more confident, sliding boldly along her inner lips again until it found her swelling clitoris. She gasped as its tip began to toy with her most sensitive parts, tickling the swelling organ from above and exquisitely sliding under its hood in search of the most sensitive parts of all.

“Oh yessss!”

Her knees trembled again as she felt her vulva being caressed and explored, moisture oozing from her opening slit. A long, thin finger dipped into her vagina once again and was quickly followed by a second.

She heard a metallic rattle followed by the sound of a zipper being lowered. There was a rustle of cloth behind her then she felt the heat of a naked human body close to her exposed buttocks. Someone was close behind her naked, exposed vulva.

Cindy tried again to turn her head but again the unknown something inside her, prevented it.

A warm hand touched her on the right hip. A warm palm began to stroke her sensitised skin. Then she felt something smooth and firm being rubbed up and down her dampening slit. A faint voice deep inside her brain was trying to tell her something but the noise from her body drowned it out.

“Mmmm!” she moaned again despite herself.

The smooth object was moving confidently up and down her slit now, working its way between her puffy outer lips, searching for her secret entrance.

It found it! The rounded head gently parted her inner lips; she could feel herself being stretched around its girth.

And then she felt the smooth, swollen head part her wet inner lips and break through into her body, penetrating forcefully into her deep, well-lubricated vagina. It felt huge, stretching her deliciously as its ridges and indentations rasped over her sensitive entrance.

“Ohhhh!” she sighed in pleasure.

Again, the faint voice of admonition tried to intervene; to tell her that this should not be happening; that a married woman should not let an unknown penis enter her vagina but by now, her body was fully in control and the warning call faded into nothing.

A second hand was placed on her waist, holding her tightly while the long, thick presence within her was drawn back, then thrust into her, forcibly.

“MmmMMM!”

Oh! That felt good. That felt very good indeed.

The cock was withdrawn until just its head was inside her. For a few seconds, she felt a strange mix of emptiness and anticipation before it was slammed back into her again, plunging so deep it hit her cervix hard and the owner’s upper thighs slapped against the underside of her buttocks.

“Mmm! Yessss!

She moaned aloud. It happened again; she moaned again. It happened a fourth time… and then she lost count as the fingers on her hips gripped her tighter, the strength and pace of thrusting increased, and Cindy Spencer was fucked as hard and as brutally as she had ever known.

Slam! Slam! Slam! Slam!

Cindy’s hands gripped the table edge for all they were worth as the unknown cock was repeatedly driven into her body. The feeling was incredible; it had been so long since any cock other than her husband’s had entered her body that she had almost forgotten how wonderful it could feel.

Although she knew that no man could bring her the pleasure that the love of her life brought her every time they were in bed together, this new, unknown lover was a revelation. Waves of pleasure rippled through her body with every stroke of that shaft; every time its head pummelled her cervix; every time those thighs slapped against her buttocks.

The voice within her wailed feebly that this was wrong; that she was a married woman; that she was being fucked at work and in public; that her fidelity was being taken without her even knowing who by.

Part of her dimly wanted to know who it was bringing her such pleasure; to know what man it was that had made her break her marriage vows. But a far greater part of her didn’t care. As long as this pleasure continued, it no longer mattered who was providing it.

Slam! Slam! Slam! Slam!

“Oh my God yes!”

Her knees trembled, her weight now borne by the thick cock impaling her and the boardroom table, her small breasts crushed against the plans spread over the its smooth surface. A strong hand left her waist and pressed her face down onto those plans hard.

Slam! Slam! Slam! Slam!

The waves of pleasure washing over and through Cindy’s body were growing stronger and stronger. She felt a ball of heat in her lower belly, a tightness across her chest, her legs gave up all pretence at supporting her as a massive orgasm struck her like an earthquake.

“Don’t stop! Don’t’ stop!” she wailed incoherently into the blue and white paper beneath her face.

Slam-slam-slam- slam! Slam-slam-slam- slam!

‘OhmyGod! OhmyGod!’

Slam-slam-slam- slam-slam-slam-slam- slam!

The thrusting increased sharply in pace, sending turning the glow into a fireball that robbed Cindy of speech, breath and almost of consciousness. This was a climax the like of which she had never known before, even with her wonderful husband, but she was too far gone for this to register in her orgasm-muddled brain.

‘Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!

But it did not last long. Within a few dozen short, sharp stokes, her unknown lover’s own climax struck, his rhythm broke and he began to cum deep inside her exposed, helpless body.

Cindy could feel the throbbing, pulsing phallus within her, the man’s sack pressing hard against her clitoris as a heavy load of thick semen was pumped into her totally unresisting vagina and smeared over the pink peach of her cervix.

It felt incredible; as if she was coming alive; as if she understood for the first time the true purpose of a woman like her.

The throbbing gradually slowed as the last few drops of semen flowed into Cindy’s fertile body. She felt warm and fulfilled. A moment later it began to soften then slipped from her trembling body but still she could not manage to turn her head and see the owner of the organ that had just brought her such pleasure.

Something deep within was telling her something wrong had just happened. But a stronger voice even deeper said that it didn’t matter; that it had felt good; that being fucked and inseminated was what she had been made for.

She heard a rustling of clothing followed by the metallic clink of a belt buckle and the soft whiz of a closing zipper. A strong hand gave her one last playful slap on her right buttock before the sound of a door closing filled the room.

Cindy remained still for a while, bent over the drawing board, her violated bottom obscenely presented to anyone who might enter the room or even look through the window. But she didn’t care. A contented smile crossed her pretty face as a trickle of sticky fluid began to seep from her vagina and run down the inside of her thigh.

Slowly she raised herself to her feet. Reaching for her handbag, she pulled out a tissue and tried to wipe the sticky goo from between her thighs. There was so much of it, a second tissue was needed, then a third.

The job done as best it could, she began to straighten her clothes, pulling the panties tightly against her sore, puffy slit in a vain attempt to staunch the remaining dribble.

For a moment she wondered who her lover had been but then dismissed the thought. A man had fucked her and inseminated her. She didn’t know who it was and at that moment, she didn’t really care.

It was what she existed for; it had felt good. Nothing else mattered.

Cindy descended the stairs alone and unstable, and made her across the uneven car park in her heels way to where Richard was waiting in the car.

“The office Miss Lu… Cindy?” he asked.

“Home please,” she sighed, settling back in the rear seat.

*

The bath was warm and deep as Cindy lay back and let it soak away the aches and soreness of her most recent fucking. Part of her had wanted to keep the messy goo between her legs to show her husband how well she had done, but the way Richard had discreetly sniffed the air in the limousine on the way home had told her a wash was needed.

The apartment’s piped music system was playing. She had chosen the tune carefully; it was one of Peter’s favourites and they had made love to it many times. There was a hum of what sounded like white noise behind the melody but it she was used to this and ignored it.

She soaped her arms, legs and breasts with a sponge before tentatively applying it to her vulva. There was a slight sting from the soreness but it served only to remind her of the pleasure she had just enjoyed.

She touched herself, slipping a single finger into her vagina, remembering that only hours ago, a strange man’s erect cock had been in that very orifice and had left a pool of sperm-filled semen inside her.

And it had felt so, so good.

She reluctantly washed the last of the stranger’s semen from her body. As the thick fluid left her private places, Cindy felt she had been made whole again. Her body had been filled with a man’s seed, like a real woman’s body should be.

She didn’t want that feeling to end. She knew she had to feel it again soon.

There was so much to be done to make that happen. Having sex with her gorgeous, caring husband was best of all, but she now realised that having sex with other men could be good too. Peter would be pleased to know that sex made her so happy, especially as she knew how much it made him happy too.

It was another wonderful thing Peter and she could share together.

Peter...

Peter was so good at sex – the best she could ever have. She had thought she was good at it too; hadn’t Peter always said so? But what if she wasn’t really good at it? What if Peter was secretly disappointed in her performance in bed?

Might he leave her if she couldn’t fuck him well enough?

Sex was so important to men; she had known that for years but until now, had not understood how important it was to her too. Until now, she hadn’t understood that only sex could make her feel like a real, complete woman.

How could she make sure she was really good at sex to make sure her husband was always pleased with her?

Cindy was troubled throughout the evening. If only her husband had been there; Peter would have known what to do, what to think. She fretted throughout her solo dinner, throughout the work she had tried and failed to do on her flickering laptop and as she sat in front of the softly flickering wall mounted TV, the worry increased.

Her husband; her wonderful husband. How could she make sure she kept him? How could she make sure she was good enough at sex to keep him happy? After being so patient with her for so long, surely he deserved a wife whose skill in bed was as good as his own! How could she make sure she was good enough?

Cindy felt tired but knew that with her mind this troubled, she wouldn’t be able to sleep. For a while she paced the apartment’s living room in her short nightgown, her tummy full of anxious butterflies, trying to think. No good ideas came.

In desperation she crossed to the TV and DVD player and looked for something to watch. Her eyes ran over the spines of the cases but they had all been there for some time and nothing caught her eye.

No, wait! What was that?

On the right hand edge of the stack was a DVD case she didn’t recognise. Was it new? Maybe it had always been there but she hadn’t noticed. Still there it was.

Cindy pulled out the case and looked at the cover; ‘Belle de Jour’. She turned it over and read the back. It was the story of a smart, upper-middle class woman who becomes a prostitute. Cindy had certainly heard of the movie and the book but couldn’t remember seeing either of them in the apartment before.

Perhaps she had bought them without thinking or maybe they had been presents. Intrigued, Cindy slipped the disc into the player and sat back on the couch to watch. The screen still had that annoying flicker but after a few minutes she was completely hooked on the movie and barely noticed.

Two hours later she went to bed, her body inflamed and her mind buzzing.

That was it! The solution to her dilemma! That was how she could learn how to be good in bed for her husband! All it took was practice!

And how better to get that practice than by having lots of sex with lots of different men?

And how better to do that than by becoming an escort like in the movie? Or maybe even work in a massage parlour? Men always wanted sex in those places! And it wasn’t anything like as sordid as she had imagined; the movie had showed her that.

In fact it had looked exciting; exhilarating even.

Someone who loved fucking as much as Cindy did could do really well there! And she would learn so much about pleasing a man. And she so badly wanted to please her wonderful husband, Peter!

Peter… she glowed inside whenever she thought of him. God, how she wanted to make him happy! And proud! He would certainly be proud of her when she showed him much she had learned about sex.

But how could she find somewhere that would accept her as an escort or prostitute? The movie hadn’t made that clear enough.

The internet of course! She could use her laptop.

Cindy turned on the machine and watched impatiently as it booted up. She opened her browser straight away but to her surprise, found that it was already linked to an adult website.

She studied the page on her screen then let out an exclamation of glee.

What a coincidence; it was the website of a massage parlour on the South Coast called Amanda’s. Something at the back of her mind found the name familiar. She read on eagerly; the place looked really smart with romantic bedrooms and big, inviting beds. The girls in the pictures all looked sexy and happy too, even if their faces were obscured.

Cindy clicked on the picture of a tall, willowy blonde called Jade. A new page opened with more pictures and a few paragraphs telling her all about the girl, where she was from and what she liked to do, especially in bed.

Cindy read every word intently, then clicked on a girl called Shannon and read her notes too.

They were just like her; they loved dressing sexily, they loved meeting new people and they loved trying lots of exciting new things in bed. Cindy didn’t know what all the acronyms meant, like CIM and OWO. To her, A-levels were school exams she had taken when she was eighteen but from the girls’ profiles, it sounded like something exciting that men really loved - enough to pay extra for.

Perhaps her husband really loved A-Levels too? As far as Cindy knew she had never done it with him. Would it make him happier if she did? Or worse, would it make him unhappy if she didn’t?

She explored a little more and was thrilled to find that Amanda’s urgently needed new girls, with or without experience. There was a phone number for interested girls to call.

This was too good an opportunity to miss. The building contract would have to wait. Cindy couldn’t let a chance like this slip through her fingers.

She took up her mobile and began to dial.

Saturday 18th July.

It was late afternoon when Hugo Spencer picked up the phone in his private study in his country mansion.

“Hello Hugo?” Peter Mountfield’s familiar voice sounded bright and cheerful.

“Hello Peter. What can I do for you?”

“Can I have a quick word with Cinders please?”

The older man sounded puzzled.

“Cinders? She’s not here I’m afraid.”

“Oh!”

Peter seemed to have been very surprised by this too.

“Do you know where she is?” he asked.

“Sorry, no.” Hugo laughed. “Have you gone and lost my daughter?”

His voice was light and joking but Peter’s reply put an end to that.

“To be honest, I don’t know where she is. She wasn’t here when I got back late last night and hadn’t come home when I woke up this morning. She’s not answering her phone ether. I thought she might have gone to see you.”

“That’s not like her at all. Actually, I’ve not seen her for a few days now you mention it. I’ll ask her mother.”

There was a pause.

“No, she hasn’t heard from Cinders either. What’s going on Peter? Have you had a row?”

“Far from it! I’ve been in Southampton in court all week. We haven’t talked much but last weekend everything was fine – no, it was great!”

It wouldn’t do to tell her father what a tiger his daughter had been in bed the previous weekend but Peter was fairly sure Hugo could read between the lines.

“Has she packed a bag?”

“She’s taken a few things with her but not very much,” Peter replied. “That’s why I thought she was with you.”

It wouldn’t do to tell her father that his daughter seemed to have only taken her tiniest, sexiest clothes with her either.

“You ring round her friends to see if she’s gone to one of them,” her father said. “I’ll call the family and we’ll see if we can find the little terror!”

But despite two hours of intensive dialling, there was no clue as to where Lady Lucinda Estelle Spencer might have gone.

Nothing could be discovered on Sunday either.

Monday 20th July

“So it looks like she’s gone of her own free will Sir.”

The Police Sergeant was speaking in as patient a voice as he could muster as he stood in the grand lobby of Hugo Spencer’s even grander house after the residents had tried and failed to enjoy dinner.

“She’s never done anything like this before,” her father was insisting. “And she never goes anywhere without her mobile phone.”

“She has only been gone a couple of days, Sir. Her phone is still working and still switched on,” the policeman said slowly. “We’ve ascertained that the phone has been moving around the south of England. Her credit card has been used a couple of times on trivial, normal items.”

He turned to face Peter.

“I’m afraid it looks like she just doesn’t want to answer your calls Sir. And I’m equally afraid that if that’s what she wants, it’s her right as a grown woman and there really is nothing we can do to help you.”

The worried older man turned to his son-in-law.

“Are you sure you didn’t have a row?”

“Absolutely not,” Peter insisted truthfully. “If anything we were getting on better than ever. But you saw how strangely she was behaving at work. Is it possible she’s had some kind of breakdown?”

“Because it’s you Sir,” the sergeant said a little resentfully, “We’ve called every hospital, police station and refuge in the south of England. She simply isn’t there. Wherever she is, it’s where she wants to be. I suspect you’ll see her again when she wants you to.”

“But…”

“I’m sorry Sir, but we’ve used enough manpower on this already. I don’t mean to be unkind but your daughter – your wife,” he nodded towards Peter. “Is an adult and quite capable of looking after herself. There’s nothing at all to suggest foul play – quite the contrary in fact. She packed her toilet bag and a few clothes before going wherever she has chosen to go. If anything changes, please let us know but in the meantime I suggest you keep trying her friends or anyone else she might be staying with. Good night Sir.”

*

“What are you working on this week?” Peter asked his willowy blonde paralegal PA a few hours later over the phone.

Victoria told him.

“I’ve got a problem that needs the utmost discretion. Complete secrecy. Could you put those files on the back burner and free up a few days? You might need to be out of the office all week.”

“Of course Mister Mountfield,” the girl replied, her heart thumping almost unbearably in her chest. “Anything you need and you can trust me to keep anything I learn completely confidential.”

“I think you’d better call me Peter,” he said wryly. “I knew I could rely on you. I hope you’re not easily shocked, Victoria.”

“Vicky,” she said softly.

“I’m counting on your discretion, Vicky,” Peter continued. “I need you to help find someone.”

“A missing client?” she asked anxiously.

“A missing wife,” he replied. “Can you come to my apartment? I’ll tell you everything.”

As she made her way to the Mountfield residence, Victoria had never felt so elated in her life.

Concludes…