Mind Fuck Ch. 05

The majority of feedback were in favour of individual postings, so here is the next. The rest are written so if you can't wait mail me and I'll send you your own copy!

*

I was becoming used to Guy, well in some ways. I was starting to understand how he worked. Nobody got close to him, especially women and, so it seemed, particularly me. Emotionally that is for I certainly was becoming and had been several times now, very close to him physically. I mean can you be closer to a man than have him give you an orgasm when you are fully dressed, simply by turning you round, bending you over and licking your bum hole until you cum? But after that and after other similar instances, him cumming in my mouth and then us kissing and exchanging the cum I hadn't swallowed for instance, he shut down. He turned off as if we hardly knew each other. It was as if the physical closeness exhausted him and stopped him being the same emotionally. He never used pet names -- babe, luv, darling or honey -- he never made any reference to love or affection. Yes, he used compliments but they were always about the physical aspects of the relationship; my body, my tits, my arse and my cunt, yes that's how he always referred to ir, he didn't believe in such vanilla terms as pussy or fanny; how we had just had sex, his cock and what he was going to do to me. He didn't mention the future, he never talked about where our relationship might go or what he hoped for. He just didn't open up or let me get emotionally close to him.

But then he didn't believe in love, just as he didn't agree with monogamy, being faithful to another person and being heterosexual; to him everyone was bisexual and that together with polygamy were man's natural states.

He was, by an enormous margin, the most intelligent man I had ever met. And I adore intelligence, it does something to me, it turns me on. From the first time I had met him he had aroused me, every time and every moment I was with him. Between making a date and seeing him, which was usually a very short time, when travelling to meet him, he never came to me even though I invited him to my Dockland's apartment, when with him and when travelling home, he never took me, I was turned on, continuously, hugely and permanently. I was like a bitch in heat about him.

He used that. That was his way. He knew the effect he had on me, perhaps that's why he chose me? And he knew what he could do to me. Not sexually, for he would have assumed from the outset with me and with any other woman he selected to have sex with he would do as he wanted, but emotionally. He saw something in me that made him know that he could control me, that he could direct and dominate me, that I would be subservient to him and that I would do as he wished. And so far I had, willingly and eagerly.

Before Guy, I had only had two 'one night stands,' not that either lasted the night. One was when I was a teenager in Ibiza with a gorgeous Swedish boy and the other was just after my divorce came through with a guy of my age I met at a party, who had also just got divorced. Both were rather silly and came about because of sexual need and opportunity. That was not the case with him. I let Guy fuck me the day we met because of two reasons. One I wanted him to and two he totally seduced me.

On all three occasions I suffered guilt afterwards, surprisingly more with the two straightforward earlier shags than the session with Guy, despite that being more intense and, in many ways more concerning. I did things on my first 'date' with him that I had not done with any other man until I had known them for some time and, even now, I am surprised I did them. I was surprised that I undid the halter neck of my dress and standing before him, got my breasts out and caressed myself as he sat naked, smoking a cigar watching and directing me. I was surprised that I didn't object, but instead enjoyed him sucking my breasts so hard that he left red marks, surprised that I enjoyed the pain of his fingernails sinking into the flesh of my bum and surprised that I didn't pull away when he pinched and pulled my nipples harder than they had been pulled before. I was surprised that I didn't try to stop him fucking me for the best part of an hour as he gave me orgasm after orgasm while he did very little.

I wasn't so surprised on our second liaison, as I now thought of them, and not dates, when he bathed me, massaged me on a bed on his outdoors, rooftop balcony and then made love, or it felt like love, several times during the afternoon, night and next morning.

I knew I was under his control, but it took me time to understand why. It was my fascination for this unpredictable, brilliant, arrogant, self-deprecating, humorous, sexually adventurous, ambitious and creative, free thinking man. I wasn't in love, I was fascinated by him. And in its way, that was far more powerful than the love I had experienced in the past.

I was fascinated by his confidence in: stripping off completely whilst I was still dressed, assuming, no knowing, I would do as he said, expressing his views on bisexuality, polygamy, love and marriage, seemingly having strict control over his erection; not for him letting a mere woman make him hard, he chose when that would happen! It wasn't just those sort of things either. He was an immensely attractive man. In his late forties, he had long, dark hair that had a wave that continuously flopped down his forehead and piercing blue eyes. He had a way of looking at people that was almost hypnotic, his gaze was so intense. He was slim, had a hairy chest, a good body, a sturdy, attractive uncircumcised dick and a great bum. So for me he was intellectually, emotionally, physically and personality attractive and fascinating.

It was, I guess, the combination of all of these factors that had 'stage managed' that incredible afternoon with my friend Gayle. She was a researcher with whom I had worked at an ad agency, but now worked for Cambridge University assisting the professors with preparing their lectures, papers and speaking tours. She had invited me to a luncheon at Pembroke College where she had introduced me to Guy. We had gone on after the lunch to a meeting where Guy gave a talk on the theme that 'bisexuality is man's natural state.' During the lecture to the audience of forty or so he had quite frequently stared at Gayle and me sitting next to each other. That was when I first really noticed his intense stare and felt I was falling under his spell. I gave him a lift back into Cambridge and, unusually for me, for I had earlier said to Gayle 'I don't do one nighters' I had gone to his rooms in Corpus Christi College and had a 'one nighter,' well a fuck on a first meeting with him. That was the start.

Visiting those rooms again a few weeks later and finding him in bed, naked with Gayle had been a surprise and a shock. Of even more surprise and shock was that no more than fifteen minutes after entering his bedroom I was also naked, I was in bed and I was touching Gayle's breasts as she touched mine. He had turned us on our sides facing each other and had then pushed our faces together until we kissed. It was a momentous moment that was manipulated and manoeuvred by him, but experienced and enjoyed by all of us.

We were all on the bed, he and Gayle were naked I was just wearing my panties; a high fronted, white satin thong that was cut acutely at the legs meaning that close attention to one's bikini line was essential. I had recently taken to trimming my tawny thatch into a neat 'landing strip' of pubic hairs, which clearly exposed my lips, so I was fine.

Gayle and I knew we were, but could do nothing about, being manipulated by Guy. The kiss was was soft and gentle at first; we were exploring and experimenting. We savoured the softness, the taste and the smell of each other with our lips and tongues and the smoothness and roundness of the others breasts with our hands. As our lips got used to each other and we as women became accustomed to what we were doing, so the kiss became more intense. Our lips parted, our mouths opened, our tongues explored and we squirmed our faces together. Our hands left the others breast and went round their body. We cuddled each other and our bodies moved even closer so that our breasts were not being cupped by the others hands, but were being squashed by the others breasts.

"Oh yes ladies, yes," we heard Guy say.

I opened my eyes and saw him kneeling behind Gayle's shoulder; he was now hard and was stroking himself. I wondered when and how he would join in, for I assumed that was his intention and the main reason he had set this up.

My full double d breasts enveloped Gayle's smaller, probably b cup, boobs and I could feel her hard nipples pressing into my soft flesh. It was an intoxicating situation as the kiss intensified, our inhibitions reduced and our ardour increased. Sex was sex I was beginning to understand irrespective of the gender mix.

I felt Guy behind me. He reached round me and cupped my breast with one hand and, I noticed with an unexpected surge of excitement, Gayle's with his other. He squeezed both breasts and then pushing them together he rubbed the nipples together. He kissed us both and we alternated our kissing of each other with returning his kisses. His hands roamed all over us finding and pressing my clit and, I assumed Gayle's as well. It made my body jerk and I grunted with pleasure. I kissed Gayle, or was it Guy, even harder. I had hands on me everywhere, my breasts, my bum, between my thighs and on my pussy, but whose were they? Which were Guy's and which were Gayle's? It didn't really matter so I stopped wondering, just gave into the sensations and returned the caresses.

Guy got between us. He knelt between our legs by our knees, his now fully hard cock standing up ramrod straight; it looked wonderful and I wanted to hold it, but it was out of my reach.

"Are you enjoying it?" He asked us, as he eased my panties down and off, without asking of course.

We both nodded as our fingers trailed across the others breasts and nipples, his eyes following their path. It really was so amazingly erotic to be touching another woman intimately and have her doing that to me as a man looked on. It was bringing so many things out from me that must have lain dormant all my life. Exhibitionism, voyeurism and of course bisexuality amongst them, but then Guy had also brought out others previously. I hadn't realised fully just what excitement and pleasure I could derive from being abused and demeaned, from being submissive to a dominant man and from him hurting me and leaving marks on me.

As he was saying, "Now do you believe me about as all being innately bi," I was wondering just what else this fascinating man would do to me and bring out in me in the future; that is if he decided we had a future!

"Yes Guy," Gayle said kissing my cheek, "I certainly do, I have wanted to do this Mandy for such a long time," she said cupping my boob and lifting it up. She bobbed her head down and licked my nipple. I have had them licked hundreds of times, but never had a tongue felt like that; it was if I had been given an electric shock.

"Oh God Gayle," I groaned grabbing the back of her head and pulling her face against my breast. She kissed me right on my areola and then sucked my engorged nipple into her mouth. It was fantastic. She did that for a few moments, before breaking away, looking me in the eye and arching her back, which made her pert tits stick out. It was a clear invitation; accepting it seemed to be the most natural thing in the world, so I did accept it. Her nipple felt wonderful in my mouth and against my tongue. She stroked my long, unruly chestnut coloured hair as I greedily like a baby fed on her breasts; it was so easy to do, it seemed perfectly normal and it felt right.

Guy was pulling my shoulder. "Lay back, both of you" he ordered. Neither of us, even for one moment, thought of disobeying him, despite the pleasure we were getting and giving to each other and we laid back, Gayle to my left. We propped our nude bodies up on the pillows of the bed and looked from each other to Guy and back again. He again knelt between our legs and once more took hold of our hands, my left and Gayle's right.

"Are you ready?" he asked. I had no idea what for, but like Gayle I nodded. He went on "It's time for the next stage." I still had no idea, but I quickly found out when he moved both our hands. This time he didn't move them towards the others breasts, but towards our pubic mounds. He pressed them down and I felt Gayle's on my 'landing strip' and mine on her fuller thatch of mousy pubic hairs. I jumped at the combination of the sensations.

"Oh God Mandy," Gayle sighed.

"Yes Gayle," I moaned back having no idea what else to say.

We looked at each other. Her eyes were half closed and looked to be misty, from desire or want I imagined. We both wiggled our fingers, we parted our thighs a little and our fingers found the others warm, wetness. It was familiar of course from masturbating, but at the same time so different. We turned on our sides, we kissed, our breasts squashed together and we continued stroking the others lips and pressing the others clit. It was absolute magic.

Guy joined in. His hands were all over both naked bodies; on our tits, our nipples, our bums, between our cheeks and joining ours on the others pussy. Now I really had no idea who was doing what to me and where, just as Gayle could not have known whose fingers were inside her, whose were on her clit and whose mouth was sucking her tits. But it didn't matter, why should it? After all we are all innately bi aren't we?

*

I didn't hear from Guy for quite some time after having sex with Gayle and him; he didn't bother with the niceties of keeping in touch. The only times I heard from him by phone, text or mail was when he wanted me. That was fine by me. I wasn't after any more from him. I was, I admit, fascinated by him, but I didn't want to develop a relationship deeper than what we had, probably because I was frightened. And what we had was a sexual relationship. An intense sexual relationship, an odd one, an extreme one and a hugely experimental one, but in the end simply a sexual one. A sexual one where he manipulated me, directed, controlled and dominated me; where he somewhat abused me, demeaned me a little, treated me like his slut, took me way out of my comfort zone, extended my boundaries by miles, taught me, helped me open up and find things out about myself and one where I was his to do with as he pleased. On top of that it was an anonymous relationship. The only common link between us was Gayle and she knew none of my current friends and played no part in my life. So Guy was a totally separate compartment of my life that I could open, go into, do as I wished then leave when I wanted, well to be more accurate, when he dismissed me. In that compartment I could be who I wished and act how I wanted and with him that was so different to any way I had behaved with other lovers previously. I readily admit I gave myself totally to him; with Guy there could be no other way, it was his way or no way. And his way was not just dominating me physically, but also mentally and emotionally; yes Guy didn't just fuck my body he fucked my mind as well.

I had never been sexually promiscuous. When single I had generally been faithful to the boy I was dating at the time and when married to Kevin for thirteen years I had only been unfaithful with one man. Alright that had been a six month affair, but there were reasons for that. Since the split some five years ago and the divorce just over three, I had been more active. But then adjusting to single life in your late thirties with the tremendous social changes that had gone on since I had last been 'in play', was very difficult. I may have misjudged things somewhat, for I did, I guess, put it round a little too much for a while after the divorce became final. I had recovered from that though in the last couple of years and had even had a nine month period of celibacy.

I didn't know what I wanted from life. I knew, however, I didn't want to live with or become emotionally entangled with a man. I didn't want my daughter to have a series of 'uncles' and casual sex simply made me feel awful, afterwards that is, and full of remorse and guilt. So I had for the past couple of years been very careful with my relationships in general and sex in particular. I guess masturbation had become my favourite hobby, well after golf that is.

This was due in part, I thought, to me not having a particularly high sex drive. Reading in books and papers and talking to girl friends had hinted to me that my need for sexual gratification was lower than the norm. During my years with Kevin, however, I didn't recall turning him down very often and I certainly wasn't a frequent sufferer from 'bedtime headaches,' in more ways than one, I just went with the flow! Nevertheless, since the split I had sometimes gone weeks and months without sex, occasionally not even masturbating.

In some ways this made my relationship with Guy even stranger. I mean if a sexually reasonably respectable, forty something year old mum and businesswoman can so easily go without sex, why get mixed up with such a sexual maverick as Guy? There was no answer to that. As equally, there was no answer to why a relatively sexually reserved woman would do the things I had with him, where there was no future for a relationship. Was that perhaps the key? Was it that I didn't need to make a commitment, that I wouldn't get that involved and that Guy wanted nothing more from me than sex? Was it that and a need that he had brought to the surface in me to experiment and test myself, extend my boundaries and satisfy my intellectual curiosity about sex and sexuality. I thought that the answer might lie there somewhere, a little like Belle de Jour really!

"Friday ok Mandy?" He said down the phone on a Tuesday afternoon about three weeks after that afternoon and evening with Gayle.

"Er actually Guy, it's a little difficult," I replied without thinking, as I had a golf match.

"Little difficulties are sent to try us Amanda, not fuck up relationships you know," he said sternly and pointedly.

"What time do you want me," I replied lamely.

"I'll text you later and you can stay the night."

"Oh shit Guy, that is er........"

""That is what?" He chimed in.

I was going to say impossible for Sara was coming home for the weekend, but decided against it, quickly working out that I could get her to go to her friend Daisy's house until late morning when I could collect her.

"It's fine."

"Ok I'll text later with what you need to do."

Gayle called me the next day. She explained that she was in town the next day and perhaps we could meet. I thought of suggesting that she come to my apartment, but didn't. The idea of being alone with her slightly worried me. I thought she might try something on and I was worried about being tempted. Instead we met at a bar just outside Liverpool Street station where her train from Cambridge would arrive.

We had coffees and chatted away as if nothing had happened between us, on the surface that was, for underneath my, hopefully, controlled exterior I was as nervous as hell. I couldn't help looking at her, dressed very casually in a white tee shirt, dark blue vee necked sweater and jeans, and recalling her naked body in Guy's bed. As she slumped back in the leather chair my mind recalled her lying back on the bed her small tits glaring at me, her nipples hard and pointed. As she picked up her coffee cup or sliced her chocolate cake I looked at her hands and fingers and remembered them on my breasts and nipples, on my clit and inside my pussy, no not pussy, Guy insisted on using the more appropriate words, inside my cunt.