Be Careful What You Wish For Ch. 1

TUESDAY

Waking up on that second morning, it took a little while for the events of yesterday to come to me. As the full horror of that brief encounter in the storeroom flooded back I felt rather sickened. I moaned aloud - and then had to cover up my confusion as Shamila was once again fussing over me. I almost confessed to her! I was on the point of blurting it out when I recovered and reined back my emotions. Breakfast was an awkward, silent affair, as I had slapped her down rather strongly - basically telling her to mind her own business.

The day was full of meetings, new faces and whirlwind trip around the company offices. I more of less put you totally out of my mind - but every glimpse of store room door brought back the taste of you. I was more than relived when the day's events reached their conclusions, and we all were shuttled back to the hotel. An early dinner, then it would be time to get ready for the evenings entertainment. My pulse rate increased at the thought.

The company organised theatre trip. It was Miss Saigon at the Haymarket. Rather a formal affair, and I dressed appropriately. I suspected that the evening would include some kind of theatrical performance of the participation type. In the bathroom I slipped on a white silk g-string and then the garter belt and stockings. I had rarely worn stockings before, but found them rather a sensuous experience. The air on my upper thighs, and barely concealed mound had me damp with anticipation almost immediately. I slipped into the long evening skirt and my dark silk blouse. I wore a bra that fastened at the front. Shamila made a joke about me looking good enough to eat, causing me to do a hurried double take - then figured that it was an innocent enough remark. I did start wondering if she suspected anything, as I was certainly acting very jumpy.

Taxi's whisked us off to the Haymarket, and we crowed into the theatre. I saw you straight away, my eyes automatically scanning the crowd. You were standing near the back of the foyer. You made a point of ignoring me, looking for all the world like an impatient husband awaiting a tardy wife. My heart began to beat faster. I could feel your eyes on me as we queued to collect our tickets, feeling you assessing me, my appearance, my dress. I became wet, right there, standing in the queue. I was once again, kneeling in that squalid room, fear and adrenalin coursing through my veins, chocking on your cock remorselessly fucking my mouth. A whorish slave to your animal lust. When I next looked, you had disappeared. I sat through the first half of the show with nervous anticipation. I don't think I heard more than the odd word or two. I squirmed uncomfortably on the seat, unable to get settled, the urge to soothe my own hot lust almost unbearable. Shamila again asked me if I was ok, and I distractedly attempted to reassure her. I ached to touch my clit, sate the hunger between my thighs with a finger or two. I wondered if you would approach me during the interval, and fought the urge to touch my anus, for if you kept your word, it would never be the same virginal opening again. Once the lights went up for the end of the first half, I walked round the back of the theatre looking for you. I ended up being buttonholed by my boss, who wanted to talk about the next days meeting with our London office. It was only when you pressed that note into my hand, behind my back that, I became aware of your presence. I scrutinized the note the first chance I had - it simply said 'Start of the second half - at the back'. I wondered briefly what you would do if I didn't turn up... but only for a moment.

Once the lights went down for the second half, I eased out of my row, apologising profusely saying that I needed some air. Shamila was all for going with me, and I had to be quite sharp refusing her. I hurried up the darkened isle, and found you waiting at the back of the auditorium. My worries and fears seemed to melt away as you enfolded me in your arms, your mouth one mine, and hungry, insistent. I was barely aware of your fingers opening my blouse, but when you undid my bra, and my breasts were suddenly free and very exposed, I stiffened in alarm. Although it was gloomy at the back of the theatre, it was far from private. Anybody in the rear seat could have seen me, breasts exposed, watched you suck on my engorged nipples - and then as you raised the back of my long skirt, my bare ass and the tiny white thong. I was suddenly panting with fear and adrenalin, as you groped my bare behind, then slide your fingers past the thong and deep into me. I could have died.

But there were no cries of outrage or shock, and you finally relented, letting my skirt fall to cover me. You took my hand, not letting me even hold my open blouse closed and led me unresisting towards the "Ladies" sign, through the curtain, and then the door. I had a moment of panic and the urge to run back to the safety of the public auditorium. You held me firmly, murmured kind of reassurance then bundled me inside the mercifully empty room. I let you guide me into the end stall, silently urging me inside, before you squeezed in behind me. My heart hammered in my chest, I felt light-headed in you presence, almost as if I had been drinking. When your hands gripped me forcefully by my upper arms I couldn't help whimpering, then gulping apologetically when you hissed at me to be quiet. Inside the stall, with the door locked it was claustrophobically intense. Fear coursed through my veins, mixed with a horny excitement in a buzzing cocktail of chemicals that made breathing difficult. You turned me to face you, and forced your mouth over mine. I struggled as you kissed me hard, ignoring my twisting and feeble attempts to avoid you. My body craved you touch, while my mind screamed at me to resist your control. Your hands ran over my body, squeezing my ass, fondling my breasts. Then one ran up my back and under my hair, gripping me by the back of my neck. You pulled me back, and stared into my eyes.

"You're going to sit down and suck my cock, then I'm going to bend you over and fuck you." Fear and lust coursed through my veins. It was degrading, sordid... it was making me wet with anticipation. I couldn't...

I started to voice some weak protest, ignoring you hissed 'Quiet!' You pressed me down to sit upon the toilet seat, and you silenced my shocked mutterings in your wonderfully direct fashion. You unzipped your trousers, pulled out your throbbing erection and pressed to my open lips. I gagged, shut up and gave up trying to reason, or plead with you. I wrapped one hand around your shaft, holding you near the base, feeling your pubic hair on my fingers. I pulled back, not wanting to choke on you, and reached out with my tongue, and tentatively licked at the tip. The gentle approach was clearly not what you had in mind. You shoved into my open mouth, and I was once again struggling with the length and thickness of you. You pulled on my hair, making my head move back and forth, sliding my lips along your shaft. I savoured the raw male flavour, the tangible evidence of your hard and throbbing desire for me. I was giving you head within moments of our second ever meeting. There was a momentary pang of shame, of remorse, at what this must say about my character, but it quickly succumbed to the lusts that the act aroused in me. I was a dirty little cocksucker and I was loving it.

When the door of the Ladies banged open, I jumped, making you jerk as I caught you with my teeth, causing you to hiss in pain. I froze, you cock stilled, but continuing to fill me. Footsteps, that paused outside the stall door, and then a timid knock. It was Shamila! She asked if I was inside, while I sat immobile, your cock throbbing deep in my mouth. Finally, receiving no response, we heard her leave.

"Friend of yours?" you whispered.

I mumbled unintelligibly around your cock, and with that, you pulled out of my mouth.

"Not really - but she is sharing my hotel room."

"Wonder if she likes it up the ass?" you mused

Oh God - I had the sudden image of plump little Shamila on her knees with your cock jammed up her ass. I had never, ever, contemplated such imagery in my life before. Heat flared between my thighs, behind my eyes. Whatever my higher consciousness thought about such a sight, my body flamed with a consuming lust.

Shamila's sudden entrance seemed to bring a natural pause to events. I was trying to get some breath back, when you were taken with my exposed breasts once more. I loved the admiring, pleased noises you made - I had always been unhappy with them, convinced that she had to bigger to be found attractive. Over the months you had almost convinced me that less was more, that the male stero type was exactly that - a stereotype, of a crude and working class mentality. The true gentlemen, the connoisseur, you insisted preferred the smaller variety. All I know for sure is that you seemed to get a great deal of pleasure from mine. Another new experience for me - having my tits fucked. You crouched, your slippery, spit wet cock sliding over my breasts, and I pressed my smallish, pale brown orbs together to form a gully for you to fuck. I revelled in the urgency in your movements, the frantic, slippery thrusts of impending climax. You groaned, then cursed as cock leapt and spat a stream of cum up my chest, to my throat and chin. I barely had time to register a sharp pang of disappointment, before my mouth was once more full of semen smeared cock.

I sucked on you... tasting you, both disgusted and thrilled... and you stayed hard, filling my mouth without any noticeable change. Your cum cooled on my breasts and throat, and I found myself rubbing the slimy stuff into my swollen, sensitive nipples. My jaw ached and I was just starting to wonder when this torment would end... then you pulled out of me, and helped me to my feet. I felt so powerless when you turned my round and forced me to lean forward, my hands resting on the seat to stop myself from falling face down.

I was trembling as you pulled the long skirt up my legs and folded it roughly up over my back. Your gaze burned over my exposed bottom, and I heard you gasp appreciatively. I guess you liked the stockings, and that little white g-string?

I was more than ready for this, my body was hungering for the feel of you inside me. My mind was less sure, but totally submissive to events that seemed so out of my conscious control. I was suffering extreams of split personality - half desperate for you, urging me on ward, the other screaming in horror and outrage at what I was letting you do to me. Then all thought dissolved as you slapped my quivering bottom - the noise loud in the confined space. I shuddered as you ran your hands, hot and hard, over my smooth, cool skin, exploring my thighs and butt cheeks. The g-string gave you easy access to me, and I moaned when you brushed it aside, exposing my dripping cunt and shrinking anus to your steely gaze and your burning touch.

You were clearly in no hurry, taking time to run your hands over my swollen pussy lips, releasing the moisture that had been building all evening. Pussy juice wet my inner thighs and I moaned when you thumb pressed between my slick labia, and into my hot cunt. It felt so good, so what my body hungered for. Your fingers teased my anus, rubbing the tight muscular ring, scratching gently over the puckered opening, before probing gently. I knew that you had enjoyed and expressed desires about anal sex... and I had written back about my distaste, even fear of that act. Still... your fingertip felt good, so good that I found myself pressing back against you, ignoring the fact that it forced you finger deeper into my bottom. I sighed in frustration when you pulled out of me, then had to bite back a cry of pleasure when I felt your pussy wet thumb stretch my asshole a little wider. Two, long angular fingers squeezed into my cunt, twirling and twisting inside me. My knees shook so hard that I feared they could no longer bear my weight. I arched my back, taking more weight onto my arms, forcing my hips back, driving you deeper into me.

Then came the heat and hardness of you cock between my upper thighs. Your thumbs spread me wide and the tip of your cock was rubbing against my dripping opening. I bit back a loud cry as your cock eased into my slippery opening. You drew back, the tip rubbing over my swollen, pouting lips. I ached for you, my knees trembling. The broad tip found me again, paused and then drove deep into my cunt, sliding past the slick wet lips and filling me with an uncomforting fullness. I had never felt so tight... or your cock had swollen appreciatively since filling my mouth. Deep, deep in me, filling me, driving the breath from me... and you were still again, buried hilt deep in my body. You hands stroked me, my bottom, flanks and round to tease my breasts. I was aware of the quivering of your body, pressed to mine, your impaling cock trembling... Slowly you drew back, pulling agonizingly out of me... Then you fucked me. God you felt so good... you felt so long and so beautifully hard. It was what I had been dreaming about - although my bending over, fully dressed in a public toilet like a cheap whore, had not been in my mental script. I was sopping wet, squelching obscenely as you filled me repeatedly, thrusting deep, knocking against my quivering cervix. When you plugged your thumb into my bottom, I yelped at the unexpected assault. You stretched me, but there was way too much pleasure coursing through my body to register any real pain. It was disgusting, it was crude and sordid - and it was going to make me cum hard and fast. I could feel my cunt clenching around your hardness and then my muscles were jerking in a sudden explosive orgasm. You fucked without pause, slamming hard against me, balls thumping deliciously against my open, swollen lipped cunt. You leaned forward, your hand covering my mouth to stifle my cries, thrusting hard and fast into me. My knees threatened to give way, and I was grateful for your other hand holding me around the waist, keeping me from collapse. You brought me to a second, shockingly fast orgasm, and you groaned when I bit hard against you fingers. Finally you paused the brutish assault, and while I sobbed, my head hanging down, trying to catch my breath.

Now you fucked me slowly... long, full length withdrawal that had me whimpering, then an equally slow, deeply filling penetration. Despite a double orgasm, I had never felt so small, so tight... or a cock so full and filling... it had been a long time, too long, since I had last had a man inside my body. I don't remember my ex being any less well endowed than you... a bad memory, or do we shrink from lack of use? And for all that I was enjoying my tight, clasping cunt - it was clearly having its effect upon you too. You were groaning deeper, you body tense and clearly close to another explosive release. I was a little surprised when you suddenly slipped out of me, but as awkward as the cramped space allowed, I urgently twisted myself around, just in time to receive my first proper facial. Just like a porno movie!

Your pale, creamy fluid splashed across my face, my cheeks, nose and forehead. Then you found my open mouth and once more I swallowed hungrily, ignoring your hard pull on my hair, forcing my face into your groin, hearing you grunt and groan in the throes of you own climax. You leaned weakly against me for a while, your cock softening in my mouth. Then you shook yourself, pulling away and zipping your trousers up. I re-seated the soaked strip of my g-string and let my dress fall to the floor, hiding my shame from the world. I shakily refastened my bra and buttoned up my blouse. My thighs slid wetly against each other, my pussy seemed to glow with inner heat. Weak kneed and wobbly I emerged from the stall. One long hard, breast crushing hug and a long kiss and then you slipped away.

A quick check in the mirror, a hasty smoothing of my roughly handled hair, and I staggered back to my seat in the auditorium. My abused bottom had me shifting around in my seat, unable to get comfortable, while my senses were constantly assailed by the smell of sex. I was sure I reeked of it. Shamila did give me some very curious looks, but feeling smug and sluttish, I managed to ignore her - more or less. The rest of the evening was pretty much a daze. Back at the hotel, I spent a lifetime in the shower, soaping my sensitive, much abused pussy giving myself a couple of sobbing orgasms in the process. I was very conscious of Shamila's eyes on me when I finally emerged, wearing a long comfortable t-shirt, and slipped into bed. I made it more than plain that I had no desire to hold a conversation with her and fell asleep almost instantly.

End of Part One

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