The Mountie

"Oh my God ... Oh my God ... Oh my God!" Trevor burst through the office door without knocking, as he usually did, bouncing from one foot to the other so rapidly he seemed to be running in place. His hands fluttered about his shoulders. "Tell me it isn't true!"

"What isn't true?" Lynne replied calmly. She was the occupant of the office, and though she'd worked at this company only a few months, she was long since used to Trevor's drama.

"That you just scheduled a meeting with 'The Mountie'?"

"Who's The Mountie?"

"Only the biggest dyke in the company!"

Lynne exhaled slowly and, for a moment, considered objecting to Trevor's choice of words. She was sure he didn't mean it maliciously. After all, he constantly referred to himself as an "old fag". At 32, he was a year younger than her.

Instead, she said, "Not real helpful."

"Meechele Richman."

That was helpful, and as it turned out, it was true. She's accepted the meeting invitation through Outlook not 10 minutes earlier.

"How did you know?"

"Doris told me," Lynne's secretary. Trevor continued, "You have no idea what you are getting yourself into."

"I don't see how it's any of your business ..."

"She's going to try to get you into bed ..."

"Then you don't have anything to worry about because I don't ..."

"That's what they all say!"

"Who?"

"All the others she's slept with."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

Trevor leered. For someone supposedly horrified, he seemed to be enjoying himself, "She likes straight girls ... hot straight girls and she's very persuasive. They all end up doing her, eventually."

"Yeahhhhh ... I'm calling shenanigans," Lynne snorted. "If she was so awful she would have been fired for harassment, or something."

"I'm sure she would have, "Trevor continued, "if she wasn't already fucking the Director of HR."

"Again, bullshit. Andrea's married."

Trevor laughed in her face, "Please ... it isn't like I haven't slept with married men!"

"Well, good on you," Lynne grumbled, "but don't worry. I can take care of myself."

"We'll see," Trevor was obviously skeptical, and made to leave.

"One sec," Lynne called after him. "Why do you call her The Mountie?"

Trevor leered again, "Because she always gets her girl."

* * *

Based on her conversation with Trevor, Meechele Richman was not at all what Lynne expected. A little on the short side, with a fit, athletic build, Meechele had wide shoulders, rounded hips and graceful legs. Her short brown hair was stylishly tousled. Olive skinned to the point of perma-tanned, it was impossible to determine her ethnicity ... she could pass for black, white, Hispanic, Arab ... Lynne guessed there was probably a little bit of everything in there. Meechele wore a white blouse (an extra button undone to accent the globes of her cleavage) and black pants, both elegantly tailored to show off her curves. Lynne had assumed Meechele would be a lot more butchy.

Another thing about Meechele Lynne hadn't expected ... she was completely professional. After introductions and some polite small talk, Meechele had gone straight to the point ... ways for their respective departments to work together more efficiently. Meechele's insights were thoughtful and insightful, and she was refreshingly open to Lynne's ideas as well. All in all, it was the most productive 30 minutes Lynne had spent at her new company.

And at precisely the 30 minute mark, Meechele stood and stuck out her hand, "Well, I have to get moving. I appreciate your time and it was great meeting you."

"Same here," Lynne said earnestly as they shook hands. "Drop by anytime if you have questions or ideas or whatever."

"I will."

"And I have to ask you something," Lynne spoke in a conspiratorial tone.

"Shoot."

"I love your perfume. What is it?"

Meechele smiled proudly, "Thanks. Actually, I made it myself!"

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's a hobby of mine ... You know, I'm mixing up a new batch. I'd be happy to give you some."

"Oh, I don't want to bother you ..."

"It's no bother at all, I promise."

Lynne thought it over, "Okay then. Thanks."

After Meechele left, Lynne called Trevor into her office, "Well, I seem to still have all my clothes on ... I told you there was nothing to worry about."

She made a point of not telling him about the perfume.

"We'll see," he sniffed.

* * *

Lynne and Meechele met on a semi-weekly basis to talk about their departments, commiserate about work and gradually got to know each other. Meechele was an army brat, had lived all over the world and spoke a few languages, yes, she was named after The Beetles song, she liked rock climbing and hated ferrets. Lynne's graduating class in high school had 80 kids in it, she'd gone to Notre Dame, she was a very distant relative of Kaiser Wilhelm.

Their meetings were focused and efficient, but usually ended with 10-15 minutes of chit chat. Lynne quickly came to think of Meechele not so much as a co-worker, but as a friend.

And never once, in those initial few weeks, did Meechele display an interest that was anything other than friendly or professional. Lynne had no idea if Meechele was gay or not. She eventually concluded, in this case, Trevor's love for the dramatic had overtaken his otherwise good sense.

Those meetings almost always ended the same way, with Lynne asking if Meechele had finished with her latest batch of perfume.

"Not yet," Meechele always said. "It takes a while to get things just right."

* * *

Trevor eyed Lynne critically.

"You have another meeting with The Mountie today, don't you?" Trevor sounded quite smug.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Lynne replied coolly

"Little over dressed, aren't you?"

She was. Today, she wore a sleeveless black dress with a plunging neckline and a hem that stopped just short of her knees. The outfit showed off much of her smooth, alabaster skin. A dangling necklace drew attention to her round, up swept breasts. He long, blond hair and make-up were done just so.

"I have a date after work," she replied.

It was clear Trevor didn't believe her. But he had no proof, other than his suspicions. He just walked away.

* * *

For the first time, Lynne suspected Meechele might actually be gay. Her eyes absolutely drank in Lynne's perfectly put together self.

"You look terrific," Meechele breathed. She sounded like she really meant it.

"Thanks."

"That dress looks amazing on you."

Lynne smiled, "Thanks."

And that was it. As Lynne suspected, the rest of their meeting was a model of propriety.

* * *

Lynne was on her date, a few hours later, wondering what else she had to do. She'd been sending Timothy every signal she could think of to let him know that all he had to do was say the word and she's go back to his place and fuck his brains out.

She couldn't decide if he just wasn't getting it or if he was playing it cool. Normally it wouldn't be a problem if it was the latter; she liked being teased a little. But she was desperately horny tonight and wasn't in the mood for the usual mating rituals.

Lynne wished she had some of Meechele's perfume. It had such a wonderful, sexy zing to it. No doubt it would have gotten Timothy pointed in the right direction.

* * *

As usual, Trevor blew into Lynne's office unannounced

"Nancy Wu quit yesterday," he said.

Lynne knew her face reflected the shock she felt. She'd spoken with Nancy yesterday and the woman offered no hint of what was coming.

"When's her last day?"

"She didn't give any notice," Trevor answered. "Yesterday was her last day."

Lynne couldn't believe it, "What happened?"

"I hear she's been spending quite a bit of time with The Mountie."

"Is that what Nancy said?"

Trevor didn't say anything. His look indicated anyone should be able to put 2 and 2 together.

"Sounds like a coincidence to me," Lynne finally said.

Trevor shook his head and walked out.

* * *

Lynne and Meechele continued to meet. The temptation to ask Meechele about Nancy was constant, but Lynne resisted. It was irrelevant, not to mention unprofessional.

* * *

A month after Nancy Wu's mysterious departure, Lynne and Meechele were wrapping up another fruitful meeting. Meechele reached into her pocket.

"I have something for you," Meechele handed Lynne a glass jar topped with a spritzer.

"Is it your perfume?"

"Yup," Meechele smiled. "Try it out."

Lynne sprayed the back of her hand and took a sniff.

The scent filled her, making her feel weak and invigorated all at once. Her everything tingled. She took another, deep sniff. If anything, the sensation was even more powerful. Lynne sprayed her neck and throat. It was bliss.

Meechele chuckled, then took a yellow sticky pad and pen off Lynne's desk.

"I'm having some friends over at my place tonight, around 8p," she said as she wrote. "I want you to come."

Lynne nearly did, right there. She shuddered, her eyes clenched shut. When she regained her senses, Meechele was gone. The sticky pad was on her desk. Meechele's address was on the top sheet.

* * *

At 8p that night, Lynne rang the doorbell to Meechele's home. The unreasoning arousal she'd felt on her date with Timothy was back with a vengeance; Trevor's warnings about Meechele rang in her ears. She alternately tried to screw up the courage to stay or run away. The sound of approaching footsteps foiled her. The door swung open.

There was Meechele, marvelously nude. Her body was lean and defined, her large breasts perfectly round and topped with long, hard nipples. Moisture glistened around her bald pussy. The scent of perfume enveloped Lynne.

"Right on time," Meechele purred. "I like that. Come in."

Lynne felt pathetically grateful for the compliment. She stepped into the foyer. Meechele slid up behind her.

"Let's get you out of these, then we'll join the others." Meechele plucked confidently at the buttons of Lynne's blouse, giggled and nuzzled Lynne's neck as she unclasped the bra. Lynne's arms hung limply at her side as both garments fluttered to the floor. Meechele reached around to play with Lynne's tits, supporting their heft with her palms as she pulled and twisted the hardening nipples, cooing appreciatively all the while.

"Show me you want this ... take your pants off for me," Meechele whispered firmly.

That was when Lynne realized it was really going to happen, her fear and nervousness canceled out by a purity and intensity of need she never thought possible. She wasn't stupid, she understood it was all related to the perfume somehow. With each passing moment, with each centimeter her fingers moved closer to her belt so as to do what she was told, she cared less about the why.

Lynne removed the belt with a flourish, whipping it off so quickly it snapped. The noise shook her out of her stupor and the twinge of pain fer her arousal. Her chest heaved and knees shook as she worked the fly of her jeans. Down to her white satin panties, she was so wet the material felt pasted to her twat. Soon enough, they joined the rest of her clothes on the floor.

Meechele spun Lynne around so they now faced each other. Holding hands, Meechele spread their arms.

"God, you're beautiful!" Meechele whispered, her eyes smothering Lynne's body. "We're going to have sooo much fun together."

Meechele turned and led Lynne through the house and into the bedroom. Two other women, naked and flush with a post coital glow, were waiting there. Lynne knew them both. One was Nicola, the stupendously beautiful college intern. Lynne's attention, however, was riveted on the other.

"Nancy!" Lynne gasped. "What are you doing here?"

Nancy Wu's face broke into a goofy smile, "What do you think?"

"I though you quit?"

"Meechele found me."

Lynne's brain felt slow and clumsy, "I thought you had a boyfriend?"

"A fiancee, actually, he popped the question the day before yesterday," Nancy held up her hand. The engagement ring gleamed on her finger. "Meechele is letting me keep him. Isn't that so generous of her?"

"I ..."

Meechele guided Lynne to the bed. They sat down, side by side. Meechele explained "Think of it like clothing. I can't wear everything I own all at once. Sometimes I'm in the mood for one outfit, sometimes I'm in the mood for another. Sometimes I'll be in the mood for Nancy, or one of the other girls I own.

"And sometimes I'll be in the mood for you. I'm not too selfish, I want you to have a life. I don't care what you do when I'm with one of my other sluts. I just want you, ready and willing, when I am in the mood for you, is all.

"Take Nicola here," Meechele gestured towards the auburn haired girl. "Such a good, proper young lady. Tell Lynne how you used to feel about being with another woman."

"It disgusted me," Nicola said softly.

"But you don't feel that way anymore, do you?"

Nicola shook her head.

"And when did you change your mind?"

Nicola stole a glance at the clock, "About an hour ago."

"And what do you think of it now?"

"It's ...," a lewd fire shone in Nicola's eyes, "... it's wonderful!"

"You see," Meechele turned back to Lynne, "it isn't a bad thing at all. Look how happy Nancy and Nicola are. I just want you to be happy too."

Lynne examined the pair standing before her. They looked happy. And very desirable

"Why don't you two show Lynne," Meechele suggested. "We'll just sit here and watch for now."

The pair turned to face each other. Hands on the other's hips, they began with light, gentle kisses. Slowly, as the kissing gathered intensity, their hands began to roam; nails tickling ribs, fingers combing through hair, caressing breasts, tweaking nipples. Soft, lovely whimpers trickled into Lynne's ears.

Lynne squirmed on the bed. She rocked side to side, spreading her legs. Her hand slid in between, cupping her pussy, the fleshy pad beneath her thumb brushing against her throbbing clit. She shuddered. Meechele's hand was there now, pushing Lynne's away. Lynne trembled as her owner's fingers began their work.

Lynne's hand settled between Meechele's legs. Her middle finger glided along the length of Meechele's slit and brushed ever so slightly against the clit. Meechele shuddered and spread her legs wider.

Nicola's and Nancy's passion had escalated. Bodies flush their kiss was deep and endless, each pulling the other close until they seemed almost fused together. Lynne was fascinated by how each girl's large tits flattened against those of the other ... so mundane yet so provocative. A glistening film of sweat coated their bodies. The stench of hot pussy filled the air. Both panted and mewled as they brought the other higher. Nicola's hand slid between Nancy's leg and began to rub. The gesture was immediately matched. Each was jilling the other off and the thought of it made Lynne all the hotter. She rested her head on Meechele's shoulder. She was panting now. She felt light headed.

Her orgasm came out of no where. Without warning, her legs began to tremble and her belly tightened.

"Ohhhhh," she gasped as the trickle from her cunt became a torrent. She looked up and Meechele kissed her. Hard. Tongues stabbing, Lynne gladly returned the kiss. Her orgasm hadn't been a big one, but it had been perfectly delicious and made her hungry for more.

Meechele released her from the kiss. Lynne's gaze went back to the other two. Nicola was on her knees, her fingernails digging into Nancy's ass as she licked at the standing girl's snatch. Both of Nancy's hands were on Nicola's head, pulling her in deeper.

"Yes!" Nancy gasped. "Yes ... yes!"

Meechele kissed and suckled Lynne's ear, "Are you ready for more?"

All Lynne could do was nod.

There were two pillows on the bed. Lynne rested her head on one, the other was placed under the small of her back. Half way down the bed, Meechele stood on her knees, looming over Lynne, who compliantly spread her legs. Meechele took her position.

"You're sure you want this?" Meechele asked as she alternately caressed and plucked at Lynne's twat.

"Yes!"

"You're ready to be my slut?"

"Yes!"

"My little slut, always ready to drop everything and serve me whenever I want."

The cries of Nancy's orgasm filled the room.

"YES!" Lynne shouted to be heard over them, her hands roughly working her breasts. "Do it ... please ... I need you so much!"

Meechele smiled sweetly, then lowered her mouth to Lynne's weeping pussy.

Lynne's back arched the moment Meechele's tongue touched her ... it was electric. Her arms slammed into the mattress, her hands gripped t the sheets. She thrust herself into Meechele's face over and over and never enough. Meechele's tongue was strong and confident, licking everywhere, then thrusting deep, then swatting at the clit. All control was slipping away. Lynne wanted it gone, because it was no longer hers. It was Meechele's.

"Oh fuck ... oh fuck ... oh fuck," the profanity that filled her ears she hardly recognized as her own. She rarely talked during sex, but she needed Meechele to know how perfect and wonderful it was. Her hips were a blur now. "Fuck me ... fuck me ... fuck me ... uuuhhhh ..."

Her second orgasm was much bigger, life altering, soul shattering. Her legs crossed Meechele's back, her thighs captured Meechele's head as she sprayed her master's face. Meechele lapped at it madly.

Nancy and Nicola joined them on the bed. The trio kissed and licked Lynne's body softly as she floated down from her unimaginable high. They worked quietly. The only sounds in the room were Lynne's helpless whimpers.

It went on like that for a few more, delightful, minutes. Lynne had never felt so relaxed and satisfied. Then Meechele moved to kneel over Lynne's face and grab the bed's headboard. The other two took their stations immediately; Nicola directly behind Meechele, pressing her body into her Mistress's back and reaching around to play with her tits while Nancy knelt between Lynne's legs. Already she was tenderly lapping at Lynne's happy twat.

Lynne didn't wait. Reaching up, she pulled Meechele to her and began to suckle. , the response being a throaty moan. Meechele's juices were delectable. It went on deep into the night.

* * *

Six months later ...

Friday. The end of a hard week, made all the harder because Lynne had plans once it was over. She and Timothy were heading north for a long weekend at a pricey bed and breakfast. Scheduling a weekend they both could take off had been a major logistical challenge. The scheduling had to be precise because the deposit at the B&B was non-refundable.

Then the phone rang.

"I want you, tonight," Meechele ordered. "Be at my place at 6p. Don't bother packing, you won't need clothes."

Lynne hung up the phone and immediately called Timothy. She was so very sorry. There's been a horrific accident back in Indiana ... a dear high school friend ... the funeral was on Sunday ... she was flying out that night.

Timothy was the picture of support and compassion. He understood completely and gallantly rejected Lynne's offer to pay him back for his half of the deposit. Lynne swore she'd make it up to him when she got back, and she meant every word of it.

Naturally, she felt terrible about lying to him, but really, there was no other choice.

Hours later, a hot, wet tangled mess on Meechele's bed, Lynne's head resting on the pillow of Meechele's breasts. She was happier than she ever thought possible, and not just because she had her owner all to herself. Lynne gave Meechele the big news, that she'd brought on a new college intern, tall and slim and pretty with an adorable blond pony tail and cute freckles and the legs that went on forever. Meechele agreed that she wanted to meet the new girl as soon as possible.

* * *

Monday, just before lunch, and the orientation was complete.

"So, are you excited?" Lynne asked.