The Tribulations of Paul Hawkins

[Simonssister]

Chapter 1.  Danny

Cynthia Brett-Hawkins thought for a moment she was going to choke.  The vision that had just entered her office had temporarily halted her breathing, and she had to gasp for air.  She felt her face overtaken by a sudden hot flush.  She gulped, and there was a instant’s hesitation before she was able to say,
“Thank you, er…” 
“Danny.”
“Thank you, er…Danny.  Could you just put them on the filing cabinet, please?”
Danny did as he was bid, and went to leave.  Cynthia was beginning to recover.
“I haven’t seen you before, have I…?”
“No.  I’m new.”  He hesitated.  “I guess I’ll be bringing you your mail, now.  I’ve been allocated the fourth floor.”
She looked him up and down.  The sight of him suggested a big teddy bear.  A mass of unkempt blond curls, a broad, smiling face with a retroussĂ© nose – and a few spots – he can’t have been more than nineteen – a strong body, and, (though she was careful not to stare), a significant bulge in the front of his jeans.
“That’s great.  We’ll be seeing each other then, I guess…”
“Sure.  It’ll be a pleasure to serve you.”  He smiled and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
“Jayne?  Did you hear that?” she gasped.
Her colleague was convulsed with laughter. 
“You should see yourself, Cynthia.  You’re bright red!  He knew, you realise that?”
“I couldn’t help it!  He’s fuc-king gorgeous!”
“Now, now.  I didn’t take you for a baby-snatcher.”
“But that’s some baby….”

Cynthia and Jayne shared an office.  Cynthia was in her late twenties.  She was the Brett in the Brett-Hawkins, her husband having been consigned to the secondary position.  She’d had some bad experiences when she was a teenager, and four years ago she married Paul as being a safe and non-threatening option.  A stupid mistake, she had soon realised.  Paul, though pathetically eager to please in bed, was not the best-endowed male she’d ever met, and moreover had definite submissive tendencies.  But she’d made the most of it.  Over the last year she’d made some radical changes to their sexual relationship.  In private, Paul had been totally emasculated.  They no longer had sex in the ordinary way.  His little pen-is had been replaced by a range of dil-dos, and his duties now consisted of manipulating these or using his mouth.  He was service on demand.  His satisfaction was limited to masturbating – when allowed.  And as confirmation of his new role, she had entertained herself by occasionally dressing him as a girl, and addressing him as Pauline.  His feminisation was an ongoing process, and she passed away her leisure by dreaming up new and suitably humiliating outfits for him to wear.  At the moment this was all a well-kept secret, but once or twice she’d been on the verge of dropping hints to one or other of her girlfriends, and only just managed to stop herself in time.  But she’d made sure to amass quite a collection of pictures and videos of little Pauline – and as long as she kept these under wraps, their existence was more than enough to ensure he would stay compliant.  She loved to tease him with them.  She smiled as she remembered the fun she had had the previous evening.  She had pulled up a recent video of her husband clad in a pretty pale pink maid’s uniform, with white hold-ups and frilly white panties peeping out from under the short, crinolined skirt.
“Darling?  This is such a sweet clip!  Look how you’re trying to hide your panties….so cute!  I think I’ll just have to send it to Vicky.  I know she’d love it!”
“No…Cynthia…please don’t…” he whined.
“But you look so…hot.  Are you afraid she’d laugh at you?  I don’t think so.  She’s such a little pervert.  Knowing her, it’s more likely it would make her want to fuc-k you.  Don’t you think?”
“No!  Don’t be silly!  You know just what’d happen!  It’d be round all her friends in no time.  Then they’d all know…about us.  So just stop it, all right?”
“Well, I’ll think about it.  But it would be such fun.”  She had paused.  “Well, if you don’t want to play that game, you’d better carry on with your duties,” she had said, removing her panties and lying back on the bed with her legs apart.  “Come on.  Let’s see how far you can get your tongue inside me tonight.  Then later, if you’re good, I’ll let you wear your dil-do gag.”

It had been quite an enjoyable evening – for her, at least.  But she had to keep inventing new humiliations for him, otherwise it could become a little boring.  And she had to confess that sometimes she just craved a lovely big, hard coc-k.  She flushed again, at the recollection of the new post boy.  She allowed herself to fantasize….
“What are you thinking about, Cynth?” said Jayne, with a knowing smirk.  “I think I can guess.  What’s up with you these days?  Paul not coming up with the goods?”
Cynthia recovered herself.  “No, it’s not that.  He does everything I tell him.”
“You want a bit of variety, don’t you?  I know.  I can see the signs.  I often feel like that myself.  Not that I don’t love Mike.  It’s just…you know.  You get fed up with the same old thing every night.”
Jayne was a few years younger than Cynthia, and she had quite a dishy boyfriend.
“Maybe we should swap occasionally,” she said, cheekily.
“You keep your hands off my man,” laughed Jayne.  “He’s mine for the time being.  Tell you what, you can have him when I’ve finished with him.”

For the rest of the day, Cynthia struggled to keep her mind on her work.  She was just beginning to forget about Danny when there was a knock and he came in again.
“Sorry to trouble you…” he said, sheepishly.  “Just wondered if you know where I can find” – he looked at a piece of paper he was holding – “a mister Roberts?”
“Er, Roberts?  No, sorry, Danny.  No-one of this floor by that name.  Is it for general admin?  Let me see…”
She rose and went to take the paper, but Danny immediately folded it up and retreated.
“No, don’t worry.  It’s fine.  I’ll find him…”
“Okay…as you like…”
Danny left, and she resumed her seat.
“Ooh,” said Jayne, “I think that was just an excuse, Cynth.  I think he likes you…”
“No, don’t be silly,” she returned.  But her heart was beating faster now.  For she had caught a glimpse of the paper, and seen enough to realise it was nothing but one of the flyers the firm handed out in hundreds to their retailers!

[Simonssister]

Chapter 2.  Relief.

Danny’s second visit only compounded Cynthia’s arousal.  When Jayne left the room for a minute, she felt compelled to ring Paul and issue some instructions.
“Hello?”
“It’s me.”
“Oh, how’s your day going?  I was just…”
“Paul?  Be quiet and listen to me.  Listen carefully.  When I get home I want you in your ballet outfit…  No, cancel that.  Put on your pink blouse and those red latex hot pants I got you, with some white socks and your red trainers.”
“Why…?”
“Sports training for you, sweetie.  You’re going to need all the stamina you can get – so no wanking, okay?”
“Yeah, but…”
“And put the plastic fitted sheet on the bed, and charge up two nice big dil-dos.  Oh, and don’t forget your lip gloss.  You know I like the feeling.  Might as well be red.  Match your pants.  Well, what do you say?”
“Yes, Cynthia.  Thank you, Cynthia.”
“Good.  And be prepared for some hard work.  I need satisfaction.  I need it badly.  So if you don’t think you’re up to it, you might as well get the riding whip out right now.”
“Yes…I mean no…I’ll be up to it, my love.  Don’t worry.”
“I’m not the one who needs to worry.  I’ll be back about six.  Be ready.”

Jayne returned just as she was finishing her conversation.
“What’s he got to be ready for?  Paul, right?”
“Yes, Paul.  Believe me, darling, he needs to be ready for anything when I’m around!”
“So it’s true, what you said?  He really does…how can I put it…minister to your every need?”
“Well not every need.  But the ones he’s able to, yeah.”
“You should lend him to me sometime.  You know, when Mike’s away…”
“Oh….maybe I will!”
“If you didn’t mind…”
“Darling, it would be a pleasure!  He’s well trained.  I can guarantee his complete obedience.  You’d have to promise not to be soft on him, though.  I wouldn’t want him getting lazy.”
“No chance of that, let me tell you!”
And they both curled up in giggles.

Paul was quite ready when she got home.  The bed was prepared, and he was kneeling at the foot of it, the sex toys arranged next to him on a little plastic tray.  He looked sweet in his little shiny hot pants, and she could see he already had a nice firm erection.  She bent down and thoughtfully adjusted his pen-is, sliding it around under the taut rubber until it was lying vertical, flat against his tummy.
“There, that looks better.  Now I’m just going to have a shower, and then you can get to work.”

After her shower, Cynthia returned to the bedroom and, with a sigh of anticipation, lay down luxuriously on the bed.  Paul needed no second bidding to commence his duties.  Cynthia felt his warm, smooth lips connect with her moist pussy, and soon his tongue was deep inside her, the tip of his nose pressing against her clitoris.  She moaned quietly and opened her legs a little wider.  She could feel her juices flowing freely now, and her husband lapping them up greedily.  But her mind was elsewhere.  In her imagination she was sitting next to Danny on the sofa.  He had his arm around her, and she was unzipping his jeans.  His pen-is emerged slowly from within, swelling and stiffening until it stood proud and throbbing before her.  She took it gently in her hand, feeling its firmness and its heat, but it was too large for her to close her fingers around the shaft.  She gave it a little squeeze, making a flow of juice issue from its glistening head, and trickle down over the back of her hand.  Danny groaned.  In a moment she had leant over and taken it in her mouth, scooping the fluids off it with her tongue and swallowing them.  She felt his hand caress the back of her neck, and then he held her head between both hands and began slowly to move it up and down…
But her fantasy was interrupted by an explosive orgasm.  She cried out.  “Oh…GOD!”  Even Paul was surprised at the violence of her climax.
“Darling…are you all right?”
“Don’t stop, idiot!  Oh, no, no no….  That’s it…yes, harder, please…yes…”
Eventually she relapsed into a state of semi-consciousness.  But there was a smile on her lips.  Paul sat back on his haunches.  He hadn’t even started with the dil-dos.  Wow, he thought, my technique must be improving.  He looked sideways at himself in the wardrobe mirror.  His cheeks were glistening with his wife’s sticky secretions.  His pants were slippery with his own juices, and he was longing to be able to c-um – but he knew he dare not do that without permission.  Nevertheless, he was feeling quite proud of himself.  He was about to rise to his feet when he was addressed in a drowsy voice.
“Stay where you are, Paulie.  I want five minutes to recover.  Then you can get started with the dil-dos.”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 3.  Quid Pro Quo. 

It was nearly ten when Cynthia at last allowed Paul some rest.
“Ah…  That’s better.  Well done, dear.  I quite enjoyed that.  Now…what about you?”
“Please, darling, could I…?”
“You want to c-um, I suppose.  Well, all right, then.  But remember to use a condom, won’t you?  We don’t want you wasting any, do we?”
Cynthia made sure Paul never wasted any of his precious sperm.  She insisted he harvest every drop.  It was then stored in the freezer, and when there was a sufficient quantity, she would use it to make sweet, tasty desserts for him.  It had originally been a punishment for masturbating without permission, but it seemed to her that he was developing a taste for it, which she found amusing.  And she even had a vague hope that it might awaken his latent gayness, whose existence she had never doubted. 
“No, Cynthia.  Can I look at my videos while I…?”
Cynthia looked thoughtful for a moment.  “No.  Not tonight.  I’ve got a better idea.  Go put on a condom, and come and stand by the bed.”
Paul experienced a sudden access of hope.  Was she actually going to…wank him off?  Normally he was expected to provide his own relief, aided by videos or pictures he’d downloaded from the internet.  He quickly took a condom from the box in the bedroom drawer, ripped open the packet, and, sliding down his hot pants, rolled it onto his tumescent pen-is.
“Good boy.  Now pop it back into your pants, and pull them up.”
Oh.  So she’s going to do it through my pants.  Well, better than nothing, I suppose.  He did as he had been told, and went back and stood beside the bed.  Cynthia was lying on her back, propped up against the pillow, looking at him with an amused expression on her face.
“You do look cute in those, you know, Paulie?  I think I’m going to get you another pair, but with straps, like real girls’ hot pants.  You can wear them to Tanya’s party next month.  Would you like that?”
This was not what he wanted to hear.  His arousal began to subside.  He frowned, and shook his head like a frightened kid.  She loved teasing him like this.  He was so paranoid she was going to out him to all her girlfriends.  Moreover she knew he fancied Tanya, though he didn’t know she knew.  She could tell by the way he tried to behave all macho when she was around.  Tanya would have creased up if she had found out the truth.  He was so delightfully easy to manipulate.
“Well, would you?”
“No,” sulkily.
“I think you would.  I know you.  You’re just a little show-off really, aren’t you?  Imagine Tanya’s face when she saw your fat little sausage straining at the latex!  I bet she wouldn’t be able to keep her hands off it.”
“Don’t be silly!” he shouted, angrily.
“Well, one day we’ll find out, I’m sure.  But I’m getting you those hotpants anyway.  I like the way those ones look on you.”
There was a pause.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing.  Just stand there.  Tonight I’m going to make up a story, and you have to see how long you listen to it without touching yourself.  Okay?”
Disappointed, he wrinkled his brow, but didn’t reply.
“Good.  Then I’ll begin.”
And she began to retell her fantasy of that evening – and embellish it – like a piece of fiction.  Which of course it was, for surely none of it would ever be realised.  Would it?  She even used the name Danny, which was somehow exciting, and moved on from the scene which had brought her to her first orgasm, into the most perverted an exotic developments she could think of.  She recounted her tale with such passion and attention to detail, that soon Paul was listening open-mouthed.  A minute or so later, he began kneading his erect member with such eagerness, that it was clear to Cynthia he wasn’t going to last very long.  And when she introduced Paul himself into the story, as the devoted slave-maid whose job it was to lick and suc-k Danny into erection preparatory for entry into his mistress’s pussy, his reaction was spectacular.  He seemed to choke, his eyeballs drifted up under his eyelids, and he came violently, gasping and jerking, and finally sank to his knees.
“Goodness, Paul, I didn’t realise you were going to enjoy my story quite that much!”
“I…I…oh…I don’t know why….”
“Was it the idea of having to take that big, juicy prick in your mouth…?”
“No!  Course not!”
“Hmm…interesting…”
“Well, I’m going to clean up,” he said.  He rose, embarrassed, and headed towards the door.
“Don’t forget to put your condom in the box in the freezer…”
“Course not!” he replied, irritated and a bit confused.  He went out and closed the bedroom door.
“Well, well,” mused Cynthia, smiling an enigmatic smile.

[Simonssister]

Chapter 4.  Exhibitionism.

That night, despite the eminently satisfactory indulgences of the evening, Cynthia slept badly, disturbed by turbulent dreams.  She was on a wild, rocky sea shore.  The clouds were low, moving fast.  She was not sure whether it was just the clouds, or whether it was evening.  A storm was approaching, and the tide was coming in, beginning to lap around her shoes.  Far out to see she could see a huge wave building.  She knew she had to escape.  Looking up she saw the cliffs were not high, and over the edge she could see the top of a lighthouse sticking up – probably disused, since there was no light visible.  She clambered up the rocks.  The sharp edges seemed to be catching on her clothes, shredding the voluminous dress, like a wedding-dress, she was wearing.  By the time she gained the top, she was in her underwear.  But there was the lighthouse.  She ran towards it.  There was something strange; there was no door, but instead there was a circular flight of stairs around it, like a helter-skelter.  She began to ascend.  For some reason she had a strong sense of guilt – she couldn’t tell why – and it was somehow preventing her making progress; every time she came round to the seaward side again, she didn’t seem to have ascended any higher.  After struggling for some time against the wind, she felt the first drops of rain beginning to fall.  Soon it became heavy, and then a deluge.  Looking up, she could see great swathes of foaming water pouring down the sides of the lighthouse.  In a moment she was inundated.  But the water which was running down her body was warm and sluggish, and the feeling of it sliding over her breasts and belly was pleasant, almost exciting…
She awoke, sweating and moist between her legs.  She blinked, looked around.  “What the hell was all that about…?” she muttered to herself.  Paul was still sleeping, curled up in his sleeping bag at the end of the bed, tethered to the wall just as she had left him.  At one time he had shared her bed, but now, apart from the occasional treat, he slept there.  She had fitted a ring plate to the skirting board, and bought him a locking collar and chain.  She liked the feeling of keeping him like a pet.  Sometimes she made him eat from a dog dish right there.  She had even thought of having a kennel made for him, and making him sleep in the garden in the summer.  She must get round to that, she thought.  That would make the neighbours sit up and take notice!

It was already after seven.  She climbed out of bed and headed off to the shower.  My god, she felt randy that morning!  As she showered, she made a decision.  She was going to go for it.  She would make that cute Danny take notice, all right.  After she had unlocked Paul, and he had gone to get ready for his work, she went into her personal dressing-room, which was off the bedroom.  She thought for a while, flicking through various outfits.  Then she had an idea.  Somewhere, she had what used to be called a “peephole” bra – that is, the points of the cups had been replaced by apertures, allowing the nipples to stick out.  She had quite prominent nipples, and she could see no reason why Danny should not get the benefit.  She finally found it at the back of her underwear drawer.  It still fitted nicely.  Just looking at herself in the mirror was enough to make her nipples swell with excitement.  To wear over it she selected a snugly-fitting red silk blouse.  She slipped it on – it was deliciously cool and light – and buttoned it up.  She actually blushed to see herself.  She knew she was being rather daring…perhaps tarty would have been a better word.  But she reckoned she could carry it off.  She looked a few years younger than her actual age, and she wore her hair in a semi-afro, which added to the impression of youth.  As to the nipples, she had a plan.  Over it she was going to wear a rather demure, heavy, knitted grey cardigan.  That would disguise the blouse entirely, until she cared to slip it off or unbutton it.  She decided on a grey pencil skirt, black stockings and suspenders, and red ankle boots.  She was about to slip on her panties, when she was overtaken by another wave of arousal, and she replaced them in the drawer.  Why not? she thought.  You never know – I might get lucky.  She knew she was behaving stupidly.  She knew it was madness.  But she was driven but a desperate need, an irresistible sexual longing.  She put on her silver earrings in the form of the female symbol and the matching necklace, and applied a liberal cloud of her most exotic perfume.  Dropping the bottle in her handbag, she picked up her coat and prepared to leave.
“You’re off early, darling…”
“Got some stuff to catch up on.  See you later.  Have a good day.”
“Shall we go out for a meal tonight?”
“Of course.  Don’t be late home.”
They usually went out Friday night, occasionally with friends.  They both enjoyed it.  There was a different dynamic then.  They felt more like friends than partners, how it had been before they married, when Paul was blissfully innocent of her dominant tendencies, and they could talk as equals about all sorts of things.  Perhaps they should have stayed just friends…

When Jayne arrived, Cynthia was already at her desk, clacking away at the computer.
“Hi, Cynth.  You’re early…”
“Hi, Jayne.  Yeah.  Thought I’d catch up a bit.”
“You look nice today.  Are you going to take that cardy off?  It rather spoils the effect.”
“Maybe later.”
“What’s up?  You look a bit flushed.”  Realisation began to dawn on Jayne’s face.  “It’s not…not that guy…?”
“Of course not!” she snapped back.
“It is!  I can tell!  Cynthia!  You bad, bad girl!”  She started laughing.
“Well, if it is, so what?  It’s all right for you!  You’re still a youngster.  I’m…”
“You’re what?  You’re six years older than me, that’s all!  We’re the same fuc-king generation!  Don’t get up on your high horse.  I’m not criticising you, silly.  I don’t blame you.  He’s really dishy.  I might be jealous, but that’s a different thing altogether.”
Cynthia sighed.  “I’m sorry, Jayne.  I didn’t mean to be a cow.  I’m just in such a state, I don’t know why.  Honestly, I don’t know what I’m doing.  Look at this!”
She unbuttoned her cardigan and stood up.  The red silk was taut over her breasts, the nipples jutting out like two little pointing fingers.  “See?”
Jayne’s mouth fell open.  For a few moments she was speechless.  “My god!  Are you actually going to let him see you like that?  He’ll have a fuc-king heart attack!”
“I do hope not, Jayne.  That’s not part of the plan.”
“Quick, get that cardy on again.  That dic-k Dave from accounts is on his way.  If he sees you like that…..!”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 5.  Jayne to the Rescue.

Cynthia could hardly concentrate on her work that morning.  She kept turning her head to check whether Danny was on his way.  Perhaps he wouldn’t come today!  Then it would all have been for nothing.
“Relax, darling,” said Jayne, “I’ve got a perfect view of the lift from here.  I’ll let you know when he appears.”
“If he appears…”
“Oh, he’ll be here, don’t worry, she smiled.  “Even if he doesn’t have any mail for us.”

He was late, and Cynthia was in agonies, but eventually Jayne announced, “He’s here.  Cardy off, please.”
Cynthia felt her cheeks burning.  How she wished she’d put on her panties that morning!  She tried to pull herself together, but it seemed Danny had decided to visit them first.  He knocked, and waited for Jayne to beckon him in.
“Good morning, Danny,” Jayne cried effusively.  “What have you got for us today?  Something nice, I hope…”
“Er, good morning…  There’s just a couple of let….”
But Cynthia had stood up.  She advanced on him, with her hand out to accept the mail.  His eyes were riveted on her breasts.  Cynthia could feel her nipples, hard and tingling, pressing against the silk.  He just stood there, mouth open, goggling at her.  Jayne was convulsed with silent mirth.  Eventually he found his voice.
“I…I…th-think th-there may be something else.  I…I’m not sure.  I’ll check, and if…I’ll bring them, I mean it, around…”
He thrust the post into Cynthia’s hand and rushed out.  Cynthia stood there, horrified.
“I’ve frightened him off, Jayne.  What an idiot!  What a fuc-king idiot!”
“No you haven’t, silly.  He’ll be back.  Wait and see.  Did you see his face?  Classic!”

Jayne was right, of course.  Ten minutes later he was back, stammering more than before.
“I’m sorry, I-I thought there was…something, but I-I was wrong, there isn’t…something.  B-but I was wondering…”  He was clearly trying to think up some excuse for prolonging his presence.  Jayne was enjoying every second. 
“Yes?” she said, invitingly.
“Er, the boss asked me to find some A3 paper.  I have no idea…I couldn’t find any in the stationery cupboard…  I…”
“Oh, you won’t,” said Jayne.  “That’s a special.  You have to get it from the stationery room in the basement.  Do you know where that is?”  She didn’t wait for a reply.  “No, I don’t suppose you do.  Cynthia, could you show Danny?  I’m a bit busy at the moment.”
Cynthia stared at her for a moment, before she fell in.
“Oh…oh, of course.  Danny, if you’d like to follow me.  I’ll just get the key….and put on my cardy.  There.  Shall we go?”
Jayne watched them walk towards the lift with delight.  When Cynthia turned at cast a glance back, Jayne gave her the thumbs-up.  “Go for it, girl,” she murmured under her breath.

[Simonssister]

Chapter 6.  Formal Introductions.

Cynthia’s hand was shaking as she pressed the button in the lift – so much so, that she first sent them to the second floor instead of the basement.  The lift moved with painful slowness.  They stood awkwardly, side by side, looking ahead – except that Danny was trying to look sideways to see if he could see her breasts, and Cynthia was doing the same, checking on his jeans.  Was it her imagination, or was the bulge a little bigger than before?  They suddenly caught each other in the act of peeping.
“Ah, Danny…  Well…  What a nice day…  So sunny…!
“Er…yes, er…miss, I, er…”
“Cynthia, please, Danny.  Well…how are you enjoying…being here?”
“Oh, yes, I really like it.  It’s my first real job, see.  A year ago I was still in school…”
“Really?”  Shit, thought Cynthia, I really am a fuc-king baby-snatcher.  Oh, god, what’s the matter with me…?”

It was a relief to get out of the lift and walk down the corridor to the stationery room.  It was cool in the basement.  Cynthia unlocked the door and went in.  Danny followed.  She turned on the lights – there were no windows - and closed the door behind her.
“So...it was A3, wasn’t it?”  There were racks of paper and other supplies, and on the left a counter and a PC.
He was standing awkwardly with his back to the counter.  He was a good six inches taller than her.  His throat was visible inside his open collar.  It looked flushed.  “Yes…  That’s a very pretty blouse….”
Cynthia turned bright red again.  But he was so hot!  She couldn’t help it.  She unbuttoned her cardigan and slipped it off.
“Thank you.  It’s nice to meet a guy who appreciates clothes.”  Why hadn’t she put on some panties?  She could feel her juices beginning to trickle down the inside of her left thigh.
“Is it silk?”
“Yes. Silk.  She moved towards him.  “Feel.”
He touched her arm, gingerly.  She didn’t move.  He left his hand there for a moment.  She looked him straight in the eye.  Then things happened very quickly.  His hand slipped onto her left breast.  She gasped, and pulled him to her.  In an instant she was fumbling with his zip, and the next moment her hand was in his underpants and she had released his pen-is from its confinement.  She held it gently and pressed herself against him, planting little kisses on his neck.  Slowly she felt him swelling and hardening.  He placed his hands on her shoulders and made a curious little noise, like a child sobbing.
She knew they might not have much time.  In fact, there was no saying when someone might walk in.  If the door could have been locked from the inside she would have locked it.  But she had to take a chance.  She dropped to her knees, gripped his erect member firmly around the base, and began licking the head.  He leant back slightly, resting his buttocks against the counter, which he  gripped with both hands.  His little sobs soon turned to moans, and drops of clear fluid began to ooze from the tip of his pen-is onto Cynthia’s tongue.  She gently pulled back the foreskin and pushed her mouth over the head.  It tasted clean and sweet.  It was slightly oval in cross-section, as if made to fit into a woman’s mouth.  She used the tip of her tongue on the underside, making a tremor run through his body.  Her thighs were wet, but she was at peace at last.  Her only regret at that moment was that they had only a few minutes.  She wanted hours, days.
He was becoming rather noisy.  She drew back, only to say, “Shhh, Danny.  You need to be as quiet as you can.”  And then she closed her eyes and took him in her mouth again.  Determined not to leave him frustrated, she began to rock back and forth, tonguing him vigorously.  His juices flowed steadily into her mouth, and she swallowed them thirstily.  Nevertheless when his climax came, she was not ready for it at all.  She had sunk into a state of ecstatic stupor, like a baby when it drinks too much of its mother’s milk.  She felt him tense, but before she could do anything, the first spurt, like warm cream, had filled her mouth.  It was so unexpectedly copious, that she was unable to swallow it all, and half of it burst from her stretched lips and cascaded down her blouse.  Danny let out a groan, Cynthia drew back her head, and then the second spurt hit her square on her right cheek.  She half fell backwards, and before she could regain her feet another jet bespattered her hair.  Even then she didn’t desert him.  Though his orgasm had subsided, she returned and obligingly licked him clean, and then scooped the c-um from her cheek and suc-ked it off her finger.
She was still on her knees, and Danny was still standing there with his pen-is semi-erect, when they heard a sound outside the door.  Frantically they tried to regain their decency and their poise.  The door was opening.  Cynthia grabbed her cardigan, pulled Danny behind her, pulled it wide open, smiled at the startled secretary who entered, and quickly ushered him out and back along the corridor.
“Do you think she saw?” asked Danny, nervously.
“She have to be blind if she didn’t,” said Cynthia, “quite apart from what you left for her on the floor.”
“Oh dear.”
“Don’t worry.  I hope you think it was worth it.”
“It was amazing….  You are amazing.”

They stopped the lift between floors, and tidied themselves up as well as they could.  They had a quick kiss and a cuddle, and exchanged phone numbers. 
“We’ve got unfinished business, Danny,” smiled Cynthia.  I’ll ring you tonight, okay?”
“Yes please.” 
Danny got out on the first floor, giving her a little wave as he went.  Cynthia wrapped herself in her cardigan, and, putting her head down, hoped no-one else would get in.  She made it to the fourth alone, and trotted quickly back to her office.  Jayne looked up, eyes dancing.
“Did you give it to him?”
“What?”
“The paper.”
“Oh, the paper.  I forgot….”
“Cynthia?  What have you been….  Did you know there’s sperm in your hair?  And on your neck?  Oh, my god!  Your blouse…!”
“He’s lovely, Jayne.”
“You are so naughty!  Now, sit down.  I want to hear the whole story.  Every detail, mind!”

[Simonssister]

Chapter 7.  Cynthia’s Hobby.

“You didn’t waste any time, did you?” said Jayne, wiping Cynthia’s hair and face with a tissue.  “I mean, you’ve only been away for…what is it…twenty minutes?”
“I was terrified someone was going to come in.  As it was, he had only just finished when someone did.”
“You’re living dangerously, dear.  Look at the state of your clothes!  Better keep that cardy buttoned up tight this afternoon.”
She didn’t see Danny for the rest of the day.  Whether he was too busy, or just being discreet, she wasn’t sure.  But she was quite happy now to look to the future.  She was already making plans for the weekend…

She was unusually nice to Paul at dinner that evening.  It could have had something to do with her earlier phone conversation with Danny.  She’d invited him over on Sunday afternoon, for “a little cuddle”, as she put it, and dinner in the evening.  Danny asked whether she lived alone.
“Oh, no, I have a husband.  But don’t worry about him.  He’ll be fully taken care of.”
“Oh.”  Danny laughed curiously.  “In what way…?”
“Wait and see, darling.  Wait and see.”

They went to one of their favourite restaurants, and had an expensive bottle of wine with their meal.  In fact she was so affectionate, he even wondered whether he might be allowed to make love to her that evening.  However, his hopes were soon dashed.  The first thing she did when they got home was to disappear into her private boudoir, and emerge ten minutes later in full dominatrix gear – latex body, long latex gloves, thigh boots and leather collar, swinging her favourite dressage whip.
“Cynthia…no…not tonight, please.  Can’t we just…”
The tip of the whip caught him on the side of his leg.
“Ow!  Stop it!  I’m not into this….you know I’m not…”
“Get your clothes off.”  She sighed.  “Come on, Paul, you know you don’t have a choice.  Just save us both some time.  I’ll let you wear your ballet costume tonight.  I know you were disappointed I didn’t let you yesterday.”
“No!  I’m not!  I’m gonna go back out, and you can play your silly games by yourself.  I never asked for any of this!”
“Really, your just like a child.  Where are you going to go?”
“I don’t know.  I…”
“Besides, I’ll feel so frustrated I can’t spank my pretty little Pauline, I’ll probably have to sit at the computer till bedtime.  And then I might be tempted to write to Tanya…or Vicky…or…”
“Shut up!  All right…but it’s under protest, just understand that…”
At this weak response, Cynthia burst out laughing.  “You’re not going to cry, are you, diddums…?”
Paul glared at her, and tried to look threatening, but he only managed to elicit another peal of laughter.  Laughter which was quickly replaced by sternness.
“Right.  So go get changed.  Now!  And if you’re not back here in five minutes, you’ll regret it.”
Paul gave her a frightened look, and scurried off. 
“And your page boy wig, too!” she shouted after him.  She kept Paul’s head shaved so that his head could be adorned in one of the many wigs she had bought him.  His mates thought he was being fashionable.  Little did they know. 
In the event he was back in three, prettily clad in his yellow satin ballet leotard, white tights and silver pumps.  He peeped anxiously at her from behind his little curtains of chestnut hair.  Cynthia greeted his reappearance with a triumphant smirk
“That’s better, Pauline.  There.  Don’t you feel so much happier now you’ve changed?”  He frowned.  “Don’t you?” she repeated, more firmly.
“Yes, I s’pose…”
“Yes, miss.”
“Yes, miss.”
“Of course you do.”  She contemplated him with satisfaction.  The little outfit suited his slight, slim figure.  He stood there nervously, his arms at his sides, waiting for further instructions.  He was trembling slightly.  He’s such a wimp, she thought – but so adorable.  I enjoy this so much more than when we used to have sex.  I spoil him, of course, buying him all these cute outfits, but he’s worth it.
“Are you cold, Pauline?”
“No, miss.”
“Sure?  I could warm you up a little if you like.”
“No, thank you…miss.”
“All right, then.  Now listen.  You’re a lucky little girl.  Tomorrow I’m going to buy you a present.  I do hope you like it.  And on Sunday, we’ll try it out.  It’ll be a surprise.”
“I’ll look forward to that, miss,” he said, with heavy irony.
Cynthia ignored it.  “I’m sure you will, dear.  Now, give me a twirl.”
Paul performed a rather awkward pirouette.
“Oh, dear, no, Pauline.  That really will not do.  Over the chair – quickly now!”
“But miss…”
“No arguments, or you’ll get twelve instead of six.”
As Cynthia laid on the strokes, to the accompaniment of Paul’s little yelps, she took the opportunity to give him some unwelcome news.
“No, I’m not at all satisfied with your progress.”  Crack!  “Ooh!”  “So I’ve enrolled you in Madame Bonnet’s ballet class.”  Crack!  “Ow!”  “It’s at the sixth form college.”  Crack!  “Oooh!”  “You’ll fit right in, darling…”  Crack!  Crack!  Crack! “Awoooo!”