y appointment with Mr Carruthers did not go well. I had no experience in dealing with accountants and no idea of what I actually wanted to do and, of course, I couldn't tell him exactly where the money was coming from. I hemmed and hawed like crazy as he got more and more suspicious. His smile, at first broad and welcoming at the prospect of a new client, gradually faded and his face expression became stonier and stonier as I stumbled through my half-thought-out explanation. Finally he stood and said, very firmly, that he was sorry but he didn't think he could help me. I was in despair as he ushered me out of the office, standing in the doorway to make sure I actually left. I stumbled down the stairs and into the street.
So caught up in my disappointment was I that I failed to pay attention to where I was going. I turned a corner blindly and walked straight into a woman hurrying in the other direction. Her handbag went one way, her briefcase the other. They both spilled open and the contents went flying and it was only by good fortune that she did not go flying also.
"Oh, my God, I'm so sorry," I cried.
After a moment of shocked disbelief, she crouched and began to frantically retrieve her things before they disappeared forever. Oddly, it was the papers from her briefcase she seemed most concerned about. For several minutes we both scrambled about until we had managed to retrieve everything important - at least she believed she had for she zipped the briefcase firmly shut and closed her handbag with a snap.
We stood and I was about to offer further apologies when two things hit me: she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen and she was the accountant we had spotted the other day. For a brief instant our eyes met.
"Yes!" Charles screamed in my head.
"I hope my clumsiness hasn't made you late for anything," I said. "To make amends, I insist you have dinner with me tonight. I'll pick you up at seven if you tell me where you live."
She smiled and my heart melted. "Make it seven thirty," she said, producing a card from her handing. God, even her voice was sexy.
"Why wait," Charles was practically panting. "Take her now."
"Shut up, Charles," I thought.
"Seven thirty it is."
I watched her walk away and I could swear she knew I was watching and put an extra wiggle in her walk.
"Right, Charles, we have two errands. I need a suit and we need a restaurant reservation."
In fact I acquired a whole new outfit and it didn't take much from Charles to persuade them that handing over £500 in cash was nothing out of the ordinary. I grabbed a cab to get to the restaurant I had in mind. I knew, under ordinary circumstances, I hadn't a hope in hell of getting a reservation but with assistance of Charles's and two £50 notes, I had a table for two at eight o'clock.
"Why did you give him the money?" Charles asked.
"Because it's expected. He'll believe he gave me the reservation because I bribed him so it'll seem quite natural."
"Hmmm," he sounded intrigued. "Can you do that everywhere?"
"No. I couldn't bribe that accountant, for example. At least not until we had established a working relationship. Then I could possibly give him a larger fee for doing something that was not quite in the rules."
"I shall have to think on this."
I had a bad case of the jitters as I showered and dressed. I knew Charles could have made me instantly clean and fresh but I needed the comfort of the ritual of showering, shaving and dressing to calm my frazzled nerves. It was all very well for Charles to tell me everything had been taken care of and why didn't I just bring her back here and forget about the stupid meal but he wasn't the one taking the most beautiful woman in the world out to dinner.
'Antonia Lockhart, BSc(Hons), A.C.A. and a number of other letters whose meaning I didn't know, her card read, with an address in a very salubrious part of town.
Antonia: she had had an Italian look about her - long, chestnut-brown hair, warm brown eyes, a proud nose, high cheekbones, generous mouth with full lips and a square jaw. It had been her face that captured my attention. What the rest of her looked like I couldn't remember; other than she was wearing a well-cut dark jacket and skirt and a very elegant pair of shoes. Well, my eyes had been at street level most of the time I had been with her.
But all these letters after her name: and that address. She was obviously a very senior accountant and moved in circles I couldn't dream of reaching even in my wildest fantasies. Yet I had invited her to dinner and she had accepted. What was I thinking of?
The cab pulled up and her flat and I almost chickened out. Taking deep breaths to try and calm my pounding heart, I pressed her doorbell. It opened almost immediately; she must have been waiting or heard the cab. She was as beautiful as I remembered. Her hair wasn't brown, it was a deep, glowing chestnut but all else was as I remembered. She was wearing a short dress of cream and a brown that was almost the same colour as her hair. A loose bodice, cut low enough to show some cleavage, and a full skirt which showed off her hips and drew attention to her long legs. Her shoes were the same colours as her dress.
"Well," she asked in an amused tone. "Do I pass muster?"
"Forgive me," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "I was making sure that, should I be snatched by aliens, I would have an image of you imprinted in my brain. You don't just pass muster, you look stunning." Not, perhaps, the best opening line but all I could come up with.
I offered my arm and escorted her down the stairs. I remembered to hand her both into and out of the cab. As we alighted at the restaurant, I saw her eyes widen in surprise. I was pleased as it meant I'd gone up in her estimation. We were led to our table and I managed to ensure that I seated her, not the waiter. The menus were, of course, written in that obscure double-speak so beloved of chefs and made even more unintelligible by being in French even though a number of the dishes were local.
"Have you been here before?" I asked as she studied the menu.
"Once or twice."
"Then I suppose it would be considered crass to order steak and chips."
She looked up in astonishment to find I was grinning.
She grinned back as she realised I was joking. "I suppose it might. I like the fish. It's supposed to be fresh."
The ice was broken.
"Would you prefer starter or sweet, or shall we go the whole hog?" I asked.
She laughed a throaty chuckle that set my nerves tingling. "As you're paying, the whole hog."
"I wonder how many dishes that adds up to," I said thoughtfully.
"Dishes?"
"That I'll have to wash to pay for this." That laugh again. I could easily get used to it. "Now I have a confession to make. I'm a wine philistine. Would you please choose whatever you think best."
She flashed me an odd look but happily made her recommendation.
"I want to apologise once again for knocking you down today. I hope I didn't make you too late for your appointment," I said once we had ordered.
"I was late already," she said a trifle ruefully. "That's why I was rushing." She reached across the table and touched the back of my hand. A jolt of electricity ran through me. "You really don't need to apologise. It was as much my fault as yours. If I hadn't been running late I would have fastened my briefcase properly and wouldn't have come charging round that corner."
I took her hand in mine. It was an elegant hand with long, tapering fingers and immaculately groomed nails. "I'm very glad you did, for it gave me the chance to invite you to dinner."
"Do you generally pick up women by knocking them down?" she asked teasingly.
"Oh, yes. And then I drag them by their beautiful chestnut hair back to my cave." She gave that throaty chuckle again. "Actually it was you who knocked me down."
"Oh?"
"Your beauty bowled me over the instant I set eyes on you," I said extravagantly.
"That was just plain corny."
"I know but that doesn't mean it's not true."
She coloured slightly and looked away. At that moment our starters arrived and we tucked in to the best meal I have ever had. Expensive the restaurant might have been but it justified every penny.
As we ate, our conversation was wide and varied. I found Antonia very easy to talk to and not at all intimidating as I had feared. She was a good talker with a sly sense of humour and an eye for the ridiculous. She was a keen observer of people and I found myself laughing at some of the thumbnail sketches she painted of her colleagues and clients. I deliberately didn't pump her about her personal details but still managed to find out that she was thirty, single, unattached and had worked for the same company since graduating. I was right in my assumption that she was several social leagues above me for she had attended a rather exclusive girls' school which she had enjoyed. Naturally I was rather cagey about my background and occupation and managed, I thought, to give the impression that I didn't do very much but that I visited an office every so often.
By the end of the meal I was more than half in love with her. Her face enchanted me. Her eyes and seemed to change with her mood from a light and sparkling almost hazel when she was amused to flat hard brown when she was angry. Her generous, expressive mouth with the full lower lip could change from a pout to a mischievous grin in the space of seconds. Her chestnut hair tumbled over her shoulders in soft waves and she had the rather endearing habit of briefly ducking her head and hiding behind the cascade whenever she said anything risqué. I was intoxicated, more with her than the wine, and felt distinctly light-headed when we left the restaurant.
I didn't give her a chance to comment when we alighted from the taxi outside my flat but hurried her up the stair. Her appreciation of the décor was more obvious than Debbie's and Harry's had been for she better appreciated its quality of style. I didn't give her the grand tour. In the hall, she turned to me and we were in each other's arms, our lips pressed tightly together, our tongues exploring each other's mouths. She pulled me fiercely to her and I could feel her breasts pressing against my chest. They were not the size of Debbie's by any means but they were clearly more than a handful nonetheless. Her strong fingers dug into my back. I held her shoulders, delighting in the softness of her skin and the play of muscle beneath. I worked my way down her back to cup her bottom and pull her against my hardness.
For a moment we stared deeply into each other's eyes then I led her to the bedroom. There didn't seem to be any need for words. I pulled her to me and she came willingly, pressing herself against me. I tilted her chin and brought my mouth down on hers. Her lips parted to accept my kiss; to meet my kiss and return it in full measure. My hands were on the small of her back, pressing her closely to me. I knew she could feel my hardness for she rubbed her stomach against it. Her arms circled my neck and pulled me down, deeper into the kiss. I ran my hands up and down her back; a strong back with good muscles. I bent so I could cup the cheeks of her bottom. They were good to hold, not too large, not too small with a soft elasticity that suggested she took regular exercise to combat the perils of a sedentary occupation.
In unspoken agreement, we stepped back and began to shed our clothes, maintaining eye contact as we did. I did not really pay much attention to her body, other to notice that it was as striking as I had imagined, my need was too great. I pushed her gently back until the back of her knees hit the bed and she fell back, her feet dangling over the edge. It leant over her and lowered my head to her breasts. As I had guessed they were large, not nearly as large as Debbie's but more than a good handful. They spread out over her chest with their dark brown areolae and nipples pointing skyward. I kissed around the base, up the deep valley between them and over the top. They felt nice; like her bottom, warm and softly resilient. I spiralled inwards and upwards towards her nipple, encouraged by her little gasps of pleasure and her fingers curled in my hair. I reached my goal and circled the stiff brown nipples with my tongue, stopping every now and then to tease them gently with my lips. Her gasps of pleasure now were louder, almost moans. I took a nipple between my teeth and bit gently before sucking it into my mouth. She jumped, then relaxed and pulled my head down upon her breast, arching her back to offer me more.
I crawled between her thighs and leant over her. She reached for my cock and, with a wicked smile, pulled it towards he cunt. For a moment I resisted, teasing her, but she tugged harder and I relented. I lowered myself slowly and she guided into her
"Charles," I thought, "make me the perfect size for her. In fact do that automatically from now on unless I tell you otherwise. Oh, and make me cum when she does."
I could feel rather than hear his sigh of exasperation but I felt the little tingle that I was becoming accustomed to and noticed her eyes widen a faction as she felt me expand slightly.
There was nothing fancy about out love-making. I half-lay on top of her, supporting my weight on my elbows and pistoned in and out of her. At first she lay with her legs spread wide, flexing her hips in time to my movements, her hand lightly clasping my upper arms. As her passion rose, her legs rose and curled around my waist and her fingers dug into my arms painfully. Her gaze turned inwards, her head began to roll from side to side and she began to breathe in short gasps. I increased my pace. Her heels dug into my bottom as she tried to lift herself off the bed to match my strokes. I could sense she was nearly there so increased my pace. She was not particularly vocal but as I pounded into her a little grunt was forced from her throat at every stroke. Suddenly her body relaxed and she began to tremble all over. Her internal muscles convulsed around my cock and she let out a long, keening sigh. That was my signal. With a few more frantic thrusts, I came, pumping my cum into her in large blasts.
Her legs slipped from around my waist and lay limply on the bed. She reached an arm around my neck and pulled me down, murmuring endearments as she stroked my hair. I was only too glad to relax into her embrace for, apart from the fact that her arms felt good around me, I was suffering from the strain of keeping myself propped up. I sighed contentedly and nuzzled her neck, savouring the soft texture of her hair, the scent of her perfume and the smell of her sweat. This was something I definitely wanted to feel more of.
Aware that my weight was probably squashing her, I rolled off and we lay side by side, enjoying this moment of post-coital satisfaction. Debbie and Harry had been great, a wild experience and one I looked forward to repeating but there was something about Antonia that felt special. I couldn't explain what it was but I knew that I wanted to see more of her. Even if she was way out of my league there was something about her that connected at the visceral level
She propped herself up on one elbow and regarded me broodingly.
"Thank you for a wonderful evening and some amazing sex," she began.
"But?" I said. "I heard a 'but' there."
She didn't smile but continued to regard me with a serious expression. Her frown made a small furrow between her eyes that I thought most attractive. "But there's something not quite right here."
My heart began to thump. "Oh? How so?" I tried to sound calm.
"Did you bump into me deliberately?"
"No, it was a complete accident. Honestly. But I'm very glad I did." That was no lie.
"You know, I couldn't focus this afternoon. It started me thinking. A man bumps into me and insists I have dinner with him. I'm not being rude but you're not the sort of person I would normally notice yet I find myself agreeing. Not only that but I find I'm as nervous as a schoolgirl on her first date.
"He takes me to the best restaurant in town where I know you have to book weeks in advance, oh, and he's wearing an expensive suit that looks brand new. He behaves as though money was no object yet it's obvious he's not used to it." I must have looked startled. "Just little things, nothing obvious. He takes me back to a run-down tenement where he has a flat that could have come from an up-market furniture showroom. Finally he screws the living daylights out of me so that, even now, I want more. It just doesn't add up. Who are you? What are you?"
I was busted. What did I do now? I could make up a story and say that I had inherited a lot of money and was still coming to terms with it but I sensed she would see through it sooner or later. Should I tell her the truth? Would she walk out and I'd never see her again? I didn't know if I could face that? I took my time sitting up before replying.
"Charles, what do I do?" I thought frantically.
"I don't know. Women aren't meant to be smart. It isn't natural."
"Why is it whenever I really need you, you let me down? Never mind. We don't have time right now."
I looked at her carefully. Could I really trust her? Should I tell her my story? How would she react? She shifted nervously under my gaze.
"Antonia, I think I'm going to trust you. When I finish, I'll call a cab and you can go home if you want. I won't want you to go but I won't do anything to prevent it. If you go I'll probably get over you eventually - sometime in the next fifty years - but I won't stop you."
"You're beginning to scare me."
"Come with me."
I pulled her out of bed and we padded through to the living room where I carefully removed the box from the cupboard and set it on the coffee table.
"My story starts just like this," I said. "That box on the coffee table. Look at it carefully but please don't touch it." I dug out the magnifying glass. "Use this."
She looked at me as if I was more than a bit mad.
"Please," I begged. "Trust me in this. You need to see what I saw."
She bent to examine the box and I couldn't help but admire the sleek lines of her back. 'I hope to God she accepts me,' I thought.
"Amen to that," Charles said.
"Can I let her touch it?" I thought.
"Better not."
She spent a long time peering closely at the box through the magnifying glass. Her hair kept falling over her face and she absentmindedly pushed it back behind her ear. It was a most endearing trait.
Finally she straightened and looked at me with a strange expression on her face. "I've never seen anything like it. What is it?"
I shrugged. "I don't know. I found it. Did you notice anything in particular?"
"It's got very strange markings on the lid."
"Yes, I think it's writing of some kind. There's something else that's important."
She turned back to the box for a while then knelt back with a surprised expression. "How to you open it? It is a box, isn't it?"
"Of a kind," I said, realising I was beginning to sound like Charles. But how do you explain the inexplicable? "Sit down and I'll tell you what I know."
I was hoping she's sit beside me on the sofa but she chose a seat opposite. She sat casually, her legs crossed, seemingly unfazed at being stark naked in a stranger's living room in the middle of the night. I told her about finding the box and bringing it home and attempting to clean it and the sudden appearance of Charles.
"You mean like Aladdin and the lamp?"
"Just like that except the cloud of smoke almost choked me to death and the 'genie' was the ugliest creature I've ever seen."
"I resent that remark," said Charles in my head.
"Then what?"
"First he said he was a genie then he denied it. Then he said he could make my wishes come true then denied it. He wouldn't tell me exactly what he was or where he came from. Oh, and all the while he was rude, insulting and patronising. I wished he would go away but he told me he wasn't that easy to get rid of. It's funny now but it wasn't at the time. In the end I got so fed up I threatened to put him back in the box and that seemed to get his attention. I got the impression he didn't like it. He finally told me he was a genetically engineered neural interpersonal unconditional suggestion stimulus - I think I got that right."
"A what?"
"A genetically engineered neural interpersonal unconditional suggestion stimulus." I grinned. "Think of the acronym."
I could see her lips moving as she silently worked it out. Her eyes widened and she burst into laughter. It did wonderful things to her breasts.
"Not a genie but a genius," she chortled.
"I thought it funny, too, but Charles wasn't amused. He doesn't have a sense of humour."
"I'm definitely not a happy camper. You really don't have to be quite so insulting," came Charles's voice.
"Shut up, Charles."
"Charles?"
"The name I gave him. I'll explain in a minute."
"You said 'doesn't'. Is it, he, still around then?"
Nothing much escaped her notice. This was one smart lady. "Again I'll come to that."
I told her how Charles had eventually persuaded me that he really did have the power to make my dreams come true but, and here was a cost, he would have to become part of me to do it.
"That doesn't sound pleasant," she shuddered. "I take it you took him up on his offer?" She was looking decidedly unhappy.
"Not immediately, no. The thought of having to live with an ugly, irascible, khaki-coloured alien was not appealing. Be quiet, Charles." I said this aloud deliberately as he was protesting loudly at my description. "It sounded worse than being married," I continued to Antonia with a grin. "I thought about it for a long time and then realised I had nothing at all going for me - dead-end job, no ties, no prospects - so, in the end I said 'yes'." I grimaced. "I wouldn't want to do it again in a hurry."
"So this - thing - is inside you? And he has the powers he claimed?"
"Yes and no. Charles likes to think that he lives up to his acronym. I don't know what sort of world he originated on but his solutions are always simplistic in the extreme - of the 'you want it, take it' variety. We have constant fights when I try to explain that you just can't do things like that in our world."
"How do you mean?"
"Take money. I showed him a tenner and he duplicated it." Her eyes flew wide. "Yes, an exact replica. He got very cross when I told him it was useless and we had to go to a bank so he could understand how banknotes were unique. He cursed something awful."
"Ah, that explains the restaurant and the suit." She nodded thoughtfully. "But how does he do it? Does he read minds?"
"He claims not. I wouldn't say he was entirely honest but I don't think he's capable of a direct lie. So I believe him." I could feel Charles shifting uncomfortably. "He says his power lies in manipulating me and my environment. I don't know what that involves and he is adamant he doesn't either. He can't act independently; initiate anything on his own. I have to give him a focus. Like the money. Until I thought about it he wasn't able to find out about it. Once he had my focus he could do it. He says he 'reads' information out of the environment."
"That's why you had to go to a bank? So he had an environment where he could get the information?"
"Exactly."
"What else can he do?"
"I don't know the full extent of his powers. I asked if he could make me King and he said no."
She laughed. "Do you want to be King?"
"Heavens, no. I only wanted to know if it could be done. 'Too many variables', he said."
"Hmmm, that makes sense. So what can he do?"
I felt very uncomfortable. "You're going to hate me for this. He can get me women."
She leapt from her chair I fury. "You mean I'm only here because some indescribable alien twisted my mind and made me? That's rape."
"No. You're not here because of that. I give you my word of honour. Antonia, please sit down and listen. Just for another minute. I told you you'd be free to go when I'd finished. Please just hear me out."
She sat back down but on the edge of the chair, ready to leap up any instant.
"Look, let me tell you about out my first outing. We went to the shopping centre. There were three teenage girls there - about fourteen or fifteen. One of them was quite sexy in a teenage sort of way. Charles practically begged me to make a move on her. Told me I could screw her right there in the café and nobody would bat an eyelid. I was shocked - as shocked as you are, believe me. I've nothing against teenage girls but, like you said, it would have been rape and I'm not into rape. I turned him down quite firmly. He was most put out. He seems to be as horny as a billy-goat. Believe me, whatever Charles might say, I would never force a woman against her will. In my book sex has to be consensual between willing partners."
She looked at me from narrowed eyes for a long time. "Against my better judgement, I'm inclined to believe you. Despite the unlikely way we met, you've been the perfect gentleman and I did enjoy the meal and…" she blushed slightly, "…you're a damned good lover - and don't let that go to you head. If you really have the powers you claim, you didn't need to go to all that trouble. You could just have brought me back here and raped me and, I hate to think of this, made me enjoy it. So, tell me, how did you get into my pants on a first date if you didn't make me?"
"I did make you, to some extent. As far as I understand it, Charles's power lies in persuading people that I'm a nice guy and they should do what I want. What he does with women is to persuade them that they find me incredibly attractive. That's the best I can do. That's what I did - persuaded you that I was someone you wanted to be with." I paused. "Think about this. If I have the powers I claim I have why am I trying so desperately to persuade you of my good intentions? Surely I could just alter your mind and make you believe me?"
The looked doubtful but I could see she wanted to believe me. On impulse I slipped on to my knees and took her hands in mine.
"Then believe me if I say that the only things I did were to get you to notice me, persuade you I was a hot stud and make you accept my offer of dinner. Everything else was just us. There's something about you that sort of clicks with me. I want to see you again and again. I want us to be together because you want it, not because I make you."
She was blushing furiously but she squeezed my hands. "This is bizarre. It's whatever time in the morning and I'm with a man I only just met who has told me the most unbelievable tale about genies in boxes and who then practically proposes marriage," she laughed slightly hysterically. "At least I can't complain my life is boring."
"Would you?" I asked.
"Would I what?"
"Consider marrying me?"
"What? Are you actually proposing?"
It was my turn to blush. "Not as such. I was simply asking if you could consider the possibility."
"I can't believe you're for real."
She slipped from the seat and we knelt face to face. She took my head in her hands and kissed me thoroughly.
"The daft thing is," she said softly, "I think I might actually consider it."
I hugged her tightly. "Then you'll stay?"
She sighed wistfully. "My confession time. Wild horses wouldn't drag me away. You're right, I would never have looked at you twice so you must have done something. With that sort of power you could probably made me your willing slave or sex toy or something but the fact that you didn't says a lot. Also I agree, we sort of fit in a strange kind of way." She shook her head in bewilderment. "I've known you for less than twenty four hours yet I feel I've known you for ages."
I took her hand and placed it over my heart so she could feel it pounding. She said nothing but her eyes spoke volumes.
"Charles, some coffee, please," I thought.
"Pah, why do you always have to complicate matters?" he snorted. "And I resent being talked bout as if I didn't exist."
"Then you shouldn't listen in on private conversations."
"What's funny?" Antonia asked.
"Just Charles being his usual charming self. Coffee?"
I moved so she could see the coffee table. Her eyes widened in surprise and her hand flew to her mouth. "It's one thing knowing about it but another to actually see it?"
"I know. It still takes me aback." I turned to pour the coffee to find a silver tray with a pot of coffee, two elegant cups and a sugar bowl and cream jug. I couldn't help it, I laughed. "One of Charles's problems is lack of imagination." She looked again and also started laughing. The coffee service was an exact replica of the one in the restaurant.
We sat on the floor, leaning against the settee, and snuggled. I felt her shiver.
"Cold, darling?" I asked.
"A little."
"Charles, could you do a gas fire, you know, one of these real flame things?"
"The next thing you'll want will be carpet slippers and an electric blanket," he grumbled.
"Well it does get pretty cold in winter but the fire will do for now."
"Humph."
A fire, hissing gently with the flames licking up over the fake coals appeared against one wall. It was surrounded by a white marble fireplace and mantel.
"And I suppose you want family pictures on the mantelpiece, too."
"No." Then I thought. "But a picture of Antonia dressed as she was tonight would be nice."
Antonia gasped and nearly spilt her coffee when the fire appeared. "Bloody hell," she exclaimed.
"You said you were cold," I said calmly.
"I know but… Look, give me some warning next time you to do something like that. You'll give me a heart attack."
"Then I could give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation," I grinned.
"You're incorrigible. You're just showing off in front of your girlfriend, aren't you?"
"A bit," I confessed.
She was silent for a moment. "You know, I think I really do believe you," she said thoughtfully.
"I'm glad. What brings this on?"
"If you weren't genuine you wouldn't have needed to show off with the coffee and the fire. But it was when I felt your heart beating that really did it."
I realised I'd been holding my breath and let it out with a whoosh. "You don't know how happy that makes me. I've been half expecting you to leave and dreading it."
"I think I'll stay," she smiled, snuggling up even closer. "So, tell me about your other sexual encounters."
"What? You really want to know? She nodded vigorously. "You're kinky. There's actually only been one."
"All this power over women and you've only used it once? I'm sort of disappointed."
"I told you I'm not like that."
"Only teasing. So tell me about the one."
I described meeting Debbie and Harry. She saw the reference to 'Blondie' immediately. I knew there was a reason I liked her. As I talked she wriggled against me. It was as if the story was turning her on. At one point she took my hand and placed it on her breast. The nipple was stiff and I tweaked it as I talked. Her hand stole into my lap and started teasing my cock. The combination of remembering my night with Debbie and Harry and her expert manipulations made me stiff in no time.
"I know I'm a naughty girl," she murmured nibbling my ear, "but that story's get me all hot and bothered." Suddenly she stopped. "Wait a minute. Harry. There's a girl who works in my office called Harry. Small, dark girl with amazing breasts."
"That sounds like her."
"It's too much of a coincidence. I don't know her but I've seen her around."
"Would you like to meet her?" I teased.
"What do you mean?" She was blushing.
"I have her phone number. I could phone her and invite her over."
"What? Now?"
"Actually, she'd probably come if I called but, no. Another day. Would you like that?"
"I… I don't know." She wouldn't meet my eye.
"Remember, this is me. Anything you want. Any fantasy."
"But… you might… think less of me."
What a strange way of putting it.
"Antonia, who did I tell my secret to? Would I have done that if I hadn't thought about the consequences?" I hadn't of course, but they were turning out to be interesting. "Would I have told you if I hadn't wanted to share with you? One of my fantasies has come true tonight. Why shouldn't you have one of yours?"
She turned to me, eyes shining. "What do you mean 'one of your fantasies came true tonight?"
"You. Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined I'd meet up with someone as beautiful and sexy and clever and sophisticated and uninhibited as you but here you are."
"I'm not uninhibited." I noticed she didn't deny the others.
"You will be if you stick around," I leered.
"You really want to screw her again?"
I looked at her before replying. "Yes. She was a good fuck and had some intriguing possibilities. I think she might be quite into pain."
"Oh, my," she breathed, then blushed and grinned. "Okay. Why not? Fuck it, why not? I might turn out to be a closet lesbian."
"Never that, my sweet, sexy Antonia. Bi-sexual, perhaps, but not a lesbian."
"Perhaps not," she smiled, taking hold of my cock. "I'm rather fond of this."
I was thinking furiously. "Friday. I'll invite her out for a meal and you can be there. Friday? Shit that's today. Tomorrow, then. You okay for tomorrow?"
"I am now." She shivered. "I still can't believe this. I've just made a date to meet a girl for sex. I must be dreaming."
I laughed. "It takes some getting used to. You're not dreaming and I'm going to take you to bed to prove how real it is."
"I thought you'd never ask," she murmured.
Our love making was gentler and less frantic this time. I entered her slowly and we moved together in a slow, tender rhythm that seemed to bring us closer and closer together. Our eyes never lost contact. The warm brown of her eyes seemed to heat up as our movements built until they were pools of searing brown heat. At the last instant they closed and she arched back, her mouth parted, her lips full and lush as she lost herself in rapture. My climax, seconds after hers, was not as physically powerful as previously but it had an emotional intensity that left me trembling.
I rolled off her, exhausted by the events of the day and the emotional intensity of our love-making. Antonia snuggled up to me with a sleepy purr.
"Shit. I'll never make to work."
"Then call in sick."
"If you will."
"I can't. I've already had two days off this week. Anyway I need to find an accountant."
"I'm an accountant or had you forgotten," she said sleepily.
I had forgotten. "Yes, but…"
"What's the problem, exactly?"
"Well, Charles can make things, as you know, and money is one of them. What he can't do is make entries in computer systems and most money is electronic nowadays. So I need to find a safe way of converting hard cash into credit."
"Sorry," she said, waking up a little. "I should have seen that. Let me think about it. I'm sure there's something we can do." She giggled. "Listen to me - the model accountant who spends her day rooting out other people's shady doings - agreeing to help you hide thousands of illegal pounds."
"Millions." She looked as if I'd hit her. I nodded. "It takes a bit of getting used to. Think big. Think millions."
"What are you going to do with it all?"
"I don't know yet. A large house in the country, perhaps, where I won't be disturbed. With lots of servants.
"And women?"
"As many as you want."
"Am I a sort of partner, then?"
"Yes, if you would like to be. I realise it's a bit precipitate but, as they say, the position's yours if you want it."
"I think I do but I'll need to think about it for a while. What else are you going to do?"
"I have no idea. I'm having trouble getting Charles to understand our world. He's a bit caveman in his approach. And I'm really just Mr Average. I don't have any knowledge of the high life." I paused as a thought struck me. "Perhaps I should disappear. Become someone else. I believe it can be done though I don't know how. Perhaps I should find a criminal."
"Or a lawyer." She paused for a moment in thought. "Would you like another addition to your harem?"
"What?"
"I have a friend who is a lawyer. She's a bit like me so I think you'll like her. I could speak to her and arrange a meeting. Then you could work your charm on her."
"Antonia, there's no-one could be like you. You are perfect. How would you feel about someone else in my 'harem', as you put it?"
She did her best to appear casual. "I wouldn't mind."
I grinned. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you fancied her."
She blushed furiously. "You must think I'm awful."
"No, I think you are a very beautiful, very sexy lady who is beginning to learn to lose her inhibitions. But, seriously, how would you feel about me having sex with her - with any other woman, come to that?"
"That's a nasty question, you bastard," she grinned. "I don't think I'd mind so long as I approved of her."
"And got to take her to bed?"
"That, too, perhaps."
"Well, I can't make promise for Charles makes the ultimate decision, but, if she's like you, and I mean in nature more than anything, she might fit in fine. Do it. Set up your meeting."
"We'll take her out to dinner. Same place."
"You're a hard taskmistress," I groaned.
"I know. Now come here and hold me tight."
That I did willingly.