Hugging Without Tongues

Why don't you just tell me you don't care anymore?

Turn Your Head And Cough

Mmmm, the yearly physical. A truly special event that involves being poked and prodded in places that don't really bear thinking about, on top of the indignities of a urine test, and wrapped with the big shiny bow of, Cough please. At least it's worth the morning off work.

As usual, the clinic in wildly overbooked, with appointments already running late at 1030. Your uniform ensures you some expediency, but still, you sit in an examination room for 10 minutes, staring blankly at the hideously graphic posters adorning the walls, before someone skips in to see you.

'Lieutenant?' A female voice addresses you from the doorway behind you. As you turn, 5"8 of That's What I Want For Christmas enters the room. This appt just got interesting.

'Good morning, Sir,' she addresses you, smiling - my God, those lips! - 'It looks like you've been caught in the usual overbooked and understaffed mess we call medical practice here. I wanted to ask you - are you happy for me get started working thru this medical, or would you like to wait for the doctor?It'll be about...'

She doesn't have time to finish before you jump, 'You'll be fine!'

She laughs, 'Someone's eager to get in and out. Okay then, shirt and trousers off, and I'll be back with the rest of the paperwork.'

You do as she asks, trying not to think to hard about her - there's nowhere to run or hide in just a singlet and jocks.

She returns quickly, snapping on a pair of gloves, and motioning you to stand up. 'I'm going to start with a basic physical examination, looking for any lesions, sun damage or other abnormalities. Is that okay?'

Those hands on your body? Why yes, Nurse, go ahead and then can we talk about marriage. 'Sure.' You manage to sound cool and collected - you're quite impressed.

'Awesome. Singlet off please.'

She starts with your hands, turning them over in her own, before moving up your arm to your shoulder. Pressing lightly on your shoulder blade, she moves higher, slowly examining your neck, and testing for the range of movement. Her fingers on your skin, even in the latex gloves are firm and sure, and the gentle manipulations are pleasant. You're relaxing into the sensation, and are shocked when she addresses you again.

'Just to run thru the usual questions, now: any health issues you've experience or become aware of in the last 12 months?'

You shake your head.

'Any major injuries which have affected your health?'

Another shake.

'Any illness, or exposure to infectious disease without proper innoculation or treatment?'

Wow. Who are these ppl treating? 'No.'

'Fair enough. Now, the everyday questions: healthy balanced diet?'

'Sure, why not?' You laugh. You have frozen vegetables in the freezer, and you drink wine, which is, essentially, fruit juice.

'How many drinks a week?'

You punt. 'Somewhere between 10 and 15?'

She notes this down, before commenting, 'No more than three drinks a day, with 2-3 alcohol free days a week is optimum... Of course, in the real world, as long as you're not passing out regularly, you're pretty safe.'

'Good to know,' you reply.

'Oh, the fun one,' she says, fingers running down your back. 'Do you have a current sexual partner?'

'Uh, no.' You're glad she's standing behind you, and can't see how obvious that is - starved for initmate contact, this physical has gotten you aroused to the point where your cock is straining in your briefs.

'Do you practice any high risk sexual activities such as unprotected sex, anal sex, group sex or homosexual sex?'

Oh my God, did she just run a hand across your arse as she said anal sex? And did your cock just twitch at the sensation?

'No,' you choke out, trying to shift your focus from the fact that nothing has ever felt as good as her hands on your arse and thighs.

She's running a hand over your hip, when she shifts enough to see your immensely hard cock. With slow deliberation, she raises her hand, before spanking you firmly.

'Dirty boy.'

You jumped about 8 foot of the floor, completely taken aback by the situation, but nonetheless still hard enough to cut diamonds with it.

Another slap, and she's massaging the skin to take the sting out of it. 'Are you hard? Do you like being touched by me? Do you like it when I talk about all these dirty, sexy things?'

Your power of speech is not forthcoming, so you simply nod.

In one swift movement, she's pulled your jocks down. You step out of them, and she leads you to the examination table, bending you over it. She's brushing your arse with her breasts as she bends around you for lube.

'Just breathe out, Sir,' she purrs. You hear the tube opening. Relaxation isn't high on your list of things to achieve rite now.

'Come on,' she coaxes, a hand on your hip, 'If you relax, this part of the examination can actually be quite... pleasant...'

Nothing doing, you don't care how attractive she is.

'Would you like me to help?'

Instinctively, you push back against her, the sensation of her uniform on your naked skin further arousing you.

You hear her uniform rustle, and suddenly, her tongue is running across your skin. Holy hell, the feeling is electric.

She's tracing patterns on the skin, moving in ever decreasing circles until, gently pulling your cheeks apart, she's using her tongue to tease your arse.

You gasp, completely taken aback. Part of you is almost revolted by this, but most of you is shocked by the arousal she's inspiring by this act.

Her tongue's moving with dexterity, stimulating you to the point where your cock is aching. You press against the table for some relief.

Realising this, she shifts, and pulls you around, so you're leaning your hip against the table and, on her hands and knees, moves until she's in front of you. Making eye contact for the first time, she takes your cock into her mouth and gently, slowly, slides a finger into your arse.

You're pretty sure you've never been this tense in your entire life.

She laving your cock with her tongue, moving her mouth around you, and sliding up and down your length. The sensation is heightened by her stroking a well-lubed finger gently in your arse, allowing you plenty of time to adjust to the sensation before exploring further. Her other hand is playing with your balls, cupping and massaging them. You feel yourself relaxing, and her finger moves in deeper, just brushing your prostate gland.

You cannot suppress the yelp of pleasure that escapes you. This is one of the most intense sexual experiences you can remember, but you're enjoying it.

She's massages your prostate a little more firmly, while swallowing your cock deep down, and you arch, fucking her mouth as she shamelessly fingers your arse, and teases your cock. Another touch, and you're howling towards a mind-blowing orgasm, you cum shooting hard. She swallows, licks you clean, then stands. Stripping her gloves off, she pushes you onto the table, pulling her skirt up to straddle you.

She slides up your body, and tenderly settles on her heels, allowing your mouth perfect access to her pussy. She's not wearing knickers, and the view is improved further as she pulls her lips apart.

Eagerly, your tongue is on her clit, and it is her turn to moan. Your hands firmly holding her hips, you hold her still as you tease her, sucking and licking, before pulling her harder onto your mouth. She is squirming with pleasure, her fingers teasing her nipples in her lacy bra, and she's moaning as she grinds her pussy against your tongue. This is a girl who likes sitting on a man's face.

Your sliding your tongue into her, lapping up her delicious wetness, before returning to her clit. Sucking and using your tongue on it, you pull her against you firmly, unstopping until you feel that telltale shudder run though her. Her head arches back, and she's moaning, still squeezing her breasts. You continue to tongue her clit.

When she relaxes, her pleasure spent, she wiggles off you. Leaning over the table, she kisses you deeply, both tasting yourselves in the other's mouth. Dirty, sexy, and somehow rite. She rearranges her uniform, murmuring 'I'm happy to declare you fit for all tasks.'

You grab her gently by the wrist as she rebuttons her top. 'How about a couple of those 15 drinks, and we can really get into this physical?'

She leans close to your ear and whispers, 'Why don't you examine me? I like it when you watch...'

The Blue Dress, pt. IV

And so it continues. The weekend away went beautifully, the whole time spent in a universe miles away from everyone and everything you know. You weren't surprised that she bought new and beautiful lingerie to model for you, but you were gratified. She's the kind of girl that doesn't do anything she doesn't want to, so to think that she agonised over what to wear for you means a lot. She's falling for you. And, when you came together for the first time, my God. You finally understand why people talk in cliches when it comes to love. The world really did stop, and nothing else mattered. She was for you, and you for her. She was perfect. Everything is good and easy. You love the nights you spend together, and freely admit the time you spend thinking about her when you're apart. You want to have her more completely in your life. You want her. Not the make up, and the pretty clothes, and the amazing sex - though there's no denying how much you enjoy these things - but her, when she wakes up in the morning, or is talking on the fone to a friend, or vaguely searching for a citation in a book. Just her. Just her perfection. And she wants more, too. You've talked about your lives apart from each other - work, and family, and the friends you don't know (the 'yet' hangs in the air) - and she's curious. She wants to know what you do for a living, and how you do it. She recognises that before she was there, work was a key feature of your life. It still is, of course, but for the first time in a while, you want more. You want that one person you enjoy most in the whole world. She wants, desperately, to be that person for you. She comes to collect you from your office one evening. The winter is cold, and the sky is low and grey. Despite being just after 5, it seems evening is approaching with haste. Everyone else in your office has obviously felt the same way, as they left as soon as they could. You're sitting in an office of blank computer screens and empty chairs, working solidly at your PC when she comes to find you. 'Ah, working hard - it gladdens my soul,' she laughs, kissing your cheek as she looks at the screen you're working on. You've called up several documents as reference for the brief you're preparing, and the jargon and diagrams make no sense to someone without your training. She cocks her head to the side, and closes one eye. 'Nope, still doesn't give me a clue!' She declares cheerfully. 'You either have talents beyond my imagining, or this is actually a screensaver you call up when you need to impress women who drop by your desk.' 'Definitely the latter,' you reply easily, an arm around her waist. 'What are we doing tonite, beautiful?' 'Hmmm,' she ponders, a finger to her cheek in a pose of mock thoughtfulness. 'I thought I'd come hook up with you, and fuck your brains out.' 'Yes! I concur!' You agree enthusiastically, shutting your computer down. But when you go to stand up, it's clear she has a different game in mind. 'No,' she says quietly but firmly, a hand on your shoulder. You know better than to argue - her games are always fun, if you let her take control. 'No,' she repeats, before leaning down to kiss you. Her lips are firm, her tongue teasing. This woman has made you realise that kissing is, in itself, a sexual act, rather than mere foreplay. The feel of her tongue tracing your lips before sliding into you mouth erotic - the only thought in your mind is 'penetration'. Then, to have her explore, running her tongue across your teeth, your tongue, tasting you fully... She believes that an act such as this - literally sharing the breath of another person - is an act much closer to lovemaking that mere sex. Not that she's against sex... While you're kissing, you vaguely note the feel of her fingers on your chest and neck. This is not unusual - she is endlessly affectionate and tactile, usually touching. It's normal to be talking to her, and have her hand on your knee, or arm, or even, rubbing your shoulders. And she is the same with her own body, stroking her arms, rubbing her neck, playing with her hair... She is a woman who craves touch, and communicates with this as much as she uses words. Still, you're surprised when she unknots your tie, and slides it from 'round your neck. She usually likes you to leave it on, and together you've spent many happy evenings with her only in her bra, straddling your lap, holding on to your tie as you shag each other silly. The surprise continues when she pulls away from the kiss, and quickly grabs your hands, pulling them behind your chair, and binding your wrists neatly. She checks you're not in pain, and nothing is being strained - she likes it rough, you both do, but neither carry malice or the desire to hurt one another - before perching on the edge of the desk in front of you. You're not afraid, exactly, but you're not entirely enjoying the sensation of being trapped. Still, she's yet to do anything truly horrible with you, so you're content enough to wait for the moment. . 'Mmmm,' she purrs, drinking in the sight of you, collar undone, and arms bound behind you. 'You're very pretty like this.' You laugh, 'I'm not sure pretty is the word I'd use. You're pretty.' 'Oh darling, flattery will get you everywhere. But you are pretty - exactly where I want you, and nowhere to go...' 'And what will you do with me, now I'm your willing prey?' You ask, genuinely interested to see what delights she plans to offer. 'I want to teach you just how I like it, baby.' Under her dress, a neat, professional, purple wraparound, she is wearing black bikini knickers. On other women they'd be plain, but on her, somehow, they're almost cheeky - the modest covering the raunchy. And to see them, spread tight against her pussy, is certainly a turn on. She is sexy and arousing perched on the edge of your desk, her high heels resting on the arms of your chair, effectively fencing you in further, her dress pulled up around her waist. She's showing off, and you're okay with that. She notices the bulge in your trousers and smiles, gently sliding a patent leather toe across your flies. Casually, she slips a hand between her thighs, and starts rubbing the gusset of her knickers, lightly stroking and teasing herself thru the material. Her pussy is exactly at eye level - you can't fail to watch these movements. She loves it when you watch, and feels beautifully erotic. She knows that she's teasing you both, and she enjoys the sensation. She is using both hands, stroking and squeezing, without yet moving her knickers aside to go skin on skin. Despite this, you're hard, and know that, if you had the opportunity, your hands would be helping hers. She is sighing with small pleasure, squirming around on your desk, but still clothed. However, when she moves her hands, you see her knickers are wet wet wet. Already aroused, your cock starts to throb. 'Do you like to watch, baby?' She asks, noticing you pull against your bonds. 'I prefer to touch,' you reply, leaning forward. She's bound your well - even straining, your mouth is 4 inches away from her pussy. Close enough to smell her arousal, but no way to taste. Grrr. She laughs softly. 'Poor thing, being tortured like this...' 'Yes, actually,' you reply, close to huffing. She laughs again. 'So, it wouldn't help if I took my knickers off, then?' 'If you want...' You try for off-handed. She leans forward, and cups your face with her hand. 'I'll have you beg me before the evening's out, babe...' Then she's back on your desk, hips arching up as she slides her knickers down her thighs, and untangles them from her ankles. She's propping herself up with one hand, spreading her legs wide with her heels back on your chair and, having gently sucked two fingers, begins teasing herself beautifully. Slowly, she runs her fingers across her smoothly waxed lips, just enough to register the sensation. She shivers in pleasure, slowly rocking and arching her hips. She's stroking the inside of her thighs, her lips, circling in ever decreasing movements till she brushing her fingers lightly over her opening. Already wet, she spreads her arousal across the delicate skin. Bringing her fingers to her lips, she tastes herself, making noises of quiet pleasure. Her fingers are between her legs again, and this time, her movements are more insistent. She's teasing her lips, working ever closer to her opening, and then, she's sliding a finger in. She gasps, almost surprised by the feeling. You're hypnotised. To see her do this, from this perfect angle - this is not clinical, or pornographic, but deeply, wholly sensual. She's sliding her finger in deeper and deeper, pace increasing, before adding another. Two fingers, with her thumb teasing her clit. Is it any wonder her hips are arching off the desk, as she fucks herself so well? Her fingers are moving in and out of her wet pussy, teasing and stroking, and she's calling, 'Oh oh oh!' as she comes ever closer to the edge. Frantically, she's shifting forward, her other hand desperately sliding back between her thighs. Three fingers inside herself, the other hand teasing and fondling her clit... This girl's gonna cum hard and fast. A fourth finger is sliding in and out of her dripping pussy, she's pinching her clit and shuddering, bent double at the waist as she seeks your eyes, wordlessly begging you to watch and witness her pleasure, then she's throwing her head back and howling. You can see the shudders running thru her, her pussy tightening around her fingers, her arousal dripping out of her and across your desk. Neither of you is breathing as she recovers. She looks at you, once she's recovered, a smile playing on her lips. Your trousers are so tight around your cock you're in pain. Gently, she unzips your flies, and frees you from your underwear. You don't bother to stifle the moan as she takes you in her hand. You can feel her wetness, and she strokes it along your hard length. Her other hand is at her mouth, so she can lick, and tease, and nibble. She was rite - you'll beg. 'Baby, please,' you choke, overwhelmed by sensation. 'More more more.' With intensity, she slides off your desk to stand between your thighs and kiss you deeply. Then, surely and easily, she turns around, raises her dress above her hips, and impales herself on your hard, waiting cock. You can feel her arse pressing against you as she leans forward, her legs spread wide, and her hands on your thighs. She's gasping, rocking her hips to get you in deeper. These movements are not enough, and you buck against her, too aroused to stop yourself. She takes the hint, and begins sliding up and down you, tightening around you, her head snapping back with each thrust. Sweet God, she is beautiful like this - wanton, and open, and entirely delicious. Her fingers are on her clit again, and she's moving faster, more urgently. She's incoherent in her lust - half finished sentences littered with the repeated words of pleasure: so good, want, harder, need... - but so aroused that you're driven to higher points of pleasure. Her orgasm is building, her thighs tensing, her movements frenzied, and she's begging you now, inviting you to cum with her, and feel so good, and Oh my God, and she's exploding in your lap, groaning with the intensity as you thrust hard and deep into her, cumming inside her with your own shouts of ecstacy. Her movements slow as she rides out your orgasms, waiting for both of you to be sated before collapsing back against your chest. Sleepily, she turns her head to kiss and nibble your neck. 'Did you enjoy that, baby?' She murmurs, concentrating on kissing the pulse in your neck. 'Mmmm, ' you reply, drowsy with pleasure. The idea of taking her home, and curling up around her in bed is tantalising. You want to sleep with her. Sleep with her, no funny business, but just be close enough to feel her heartbeat. 'I love you.' She starts, but continues kissing your neck. Her hands find the knot around your wrists to free you, and you're taking her hand in yours, and as you stroke her fingers, you realise how small it is in your grasp. And yet, she is strong, and beautiful, and clever. And she is yours. 'I love you, too,' she whispers against your neck. 'Now, take me home.'

What To Get For The Man Who Has Everything...

When in doubt, go with the classics - blowjobs and doggy-style

Take Me Any Way You Want Me

Rough is what you both like. Rough is playing, while you come from a place of tenderness, love and respect. Rough is spanking, but never hitting. Rough is another way of saying, I love you.

Artistic Appreciation

I love going to the Symphony, just to watch. Mmmm, cellists do it on a chair with their legs spread wide

A Fine Upstanding Citizen

Morals are like knickers - I always keep a clean set in my handbag for The Morning After The Nite Before

Blue Dress Vignettes I

The long weekend starts tomorrow, and as we have Fri-Sun off, we decide we should spend this Thursday night finally going on our first ever date to the movies. The movie of choice has been hotly debated during the preceding 48 hours, before we finally settle on an artsy chick flick rerun at the Oxford Street cinemas. This movie date has been a long time coming, and we are both really looking forward to it, not to mention the dinner we've decided on afterwards - a taxi or ferry to the North Shore, and choosing a place that takes our fancy as we wander around.

Having got home from work a little earlier than you, I've already showered and changed, and poured you a glass of wine for when you arrive home. Being greeted at the doorway with a glass of white wine, being relieved of your bag, and a hug and long, lingering kiss goes a long way towards making you realise the weekend has arrived early!

You disappear into the bathroom, and I settle to call the taxi while you're getting ready.
A little later, you appear around the passageway, and with a "Do you like it?", model the dress and heels you'll be wearing this evening. My breath catches in my throat - you are eye-catchingly beautiful, and look incredibly sexy in a blue, shimmering dress and nice heels.
I get up, cross to you, put an arm around you, and whisper, "Babe, you're stunning. That looks really beautiful, and really works for you!" On impulse, I kiss you on the lips. You smile, and shrug off the shoulder strap, so the dress slips down a little, and the top of your firm and beautiful breasts are exposed. We kiss deeply, my hands stroking your back. Spoiling the moment, and the unspoken desire and invitation, a mobile sounds - the taxi has arrived. Breaking the kiss, we walk out of the flat to the taxi holding hands.

The taxi trip is short - we aren't going far, and as the taxi driver prattles away about Thursday night traffic, our hands explore each others' legs, and inner thighs, your hand gently massaging me, mine exploring as far as your knickers. At the theatre, it's the work of minutes to pay off the taxi driver, buy our tickets, get drinks, and move into the seating area. In the back row, naturally, as it has the best view. We've timed this to perfection, and minutes later, the movie commences, thankfully without the plethora of ads that precede a new release!

It's the chick flick's chick flick, but enjoyable nevertheless. The story-line really is romantic, and without even realising it, we've gone from holding hands, to stroking each others' arms and leg and leaning to touch each other. I realise with a small start that you have gone still, and immediately realise why - my hand has reached your pussy, and the knickers you had on have gone! Somewhere between the taxi and sitting down, you have managed to whip them off! Your hand is on my increasingly aroused manhood, but your attention to that falters as I gently penetrate you with two fingers, and tease your beautiful clit with another. You subconsciously inch forward in your seat, pushing yourself against my teasing, searching fingers. An evening of foreplay that started in the flat is rapidly coming to a head for you - I have never seen you this aroused from me teasing you like this alone... After another ten, long, beautiful minutes, you draw a deep breath, arch your back against the seat, stiffen and groan as you climax. The movie is loud enough to stifle the noise, and the theatre is sparsely populated anyway, but this is a real turn on for me...

You relax, and turn and smile as you see me cleaning each finger of your pussy juice with my tongue... Without any hesitation or warning, or even a backward glance to see if anyone else is watching, your hands seek out and undo my belt and zip in the near darkness. I feel your warm hands close around my enormously aroused manhood and pull it free, gently massaging it, then you lean across my front, and I feel your warm, wet and willing mouth close over me.

A wave of pure pleasure washes over me, and I shiver in delight, and I can't help but quietly gasp "Oh... Oh..." as your mouth and hands work absolute magic on me. You're sucking for all you're worth, your tongue teasing and playing with me, teasing the sensitive skin just under the tip, one hand sliding up and down the base, the other playing with my balls. God, it feels so incredibly good... Each time you move your mouth up and down me, a thrill of pleasure runs up and down the entire length of my body.

Suddenly you feel me tense, and start to stiffen. You take your mouth off, and hold me firmly to stop the orgasm happening just yet, and when I have stopped gasping quite as much, you sit up, have a quick look around, and hoist yourself onto my lap, raising the blue dress a little. You hold yourself just above me using your legs and one hand, while the other takes hold of me, and guides my throbbing manhood into your hot, wet, tight pussy... The sensation as you slowly lower yourself onto my shaft is one of the most beautiful feelings ever, and I feel your warmth and wetness as you envelop me. My hands are on the chairs either side of me, and I'm desperately trying not to moan out aloud, as you start moving, my shaft siding in and out of you, your back leaning against my chest, your arms helping to support you on either side, your legs on mine. You move your head to one side, and lean back further, and I turn so we can kiss...

The whole world could have gone spinning off it's axis right now, and we wouldn't have noticed. The climax for me comes quickly, I am so turned on by you, and I have my hands around your waist, and pull you back down on me as hard as I can just as I cum, shuddering with the intensity of it. When the moment passes, we still have our lips together, and continue to kiss deeply. Still hard, I am still inside you, but we are just holding each other close now, and my hands stray to run over your breasts, delighting to find how hard and erect your nipples are.

"You dirty, dirty boy," you whisper. "Now I'm sooo wet and messy I'm going to have to go out and clean myself up! Care to come and give me a hand? You can hold my dress up for me and help me...?"
The movie, only half way through, is forgotten...

Sweet Nothings

Your turn of phrase turned my head.

It was your tongue that made me flip with pleasure underneath you, though

After The Lecture

I knock on your door. I've been pacing up and down the corridor for half an hour, working towards this simple action, when I got sick of myself. What's the worst that can happen? Actually, I reason, best not to open the door on that, not if I want this door opened, as it were. So I knocked.

'G'day Sir,' I croak. Is that really how I sound? Really really? Ker-rist, that's embarrassing to find out.

You don't seem to notice that I sound like one of Jim Henson's Muppets. 'Jane, my God, what are you doing here? I thought you would've taken the first flight out of here once you submitted your thesis.' You sound genuinely pleased to see me.

I laugh. 'Thought I'd come mix it with the plebs - the semester's not quite over, and the babies might need me.' I've been your tutor these 15 long weeks, and taken half your tutorials, saving you from your marking. A torturous 15 weeks, working alongside you, becoming more and more desirous of your touch.

'You're a beautiful woman,' you say, 'Willing to sacrifice pleasure in the pursuit of undergraduate excellence.' That knicker-melting smile.

Did you just call me beautiful?! 'It's a hard job, but someone's got to do it,' I joke.

'And nobody does it better!'

You're not helping. 'And, I think I may have inadvertently agreed to attend the end of year Ball,' I add. 'That'll teach me to answer questions when I'm trying to do 27 other, more important, things.'

'Ah, they got you too?' You ask. Suddenly, you realise I'm standing awkwardly in the middle of the room. 'Have you got time for a chat?'

Baby, I've got so much time for you. 'If I'm not interrupting?'

'Not at all - step into the club room.'

Your tenure and seniority has assured you one of the better offices, an L-shaped room with all the expected detritus of academia - solid desk with PC, bookcases and conference table - but also an alcove, out of sight from the door, and a small ensuite. These offices have always been the Swingers' offices but the fact you inhabit one has always seemed incongruous. I've known you since I was a 20 year old undergrad, and I've never heard you speak of a wife, or even a girlfriend, and you're certainly not a notorious skirt chaser. A shame - I wear so many skirts in the Canberra summer... So rather than a fur coverlet and mirrors on the ceiling, your alcove has been fitted out as a gentleman's retreat. I wasn't at all surprised when I first noticed the leather club chairs, was more surprised by the images that flashed through my head. My silk slip pushed up over my hips, my naked bottom on the cool leather, your hands on my thighs, pushing them gently apart... Ahem. Yes. But I recognise the privilege of being allowed in - you have colleagues who have yet graduate past the conference table.

Sitting with knees touching, I'm very aware that I've dressed with baser pursuits than academia in mind. My tightest business skirt is mid-thigh now I'm relaxing in the chair, the merest hint of my lace-topped stockings apparent. My white blouse, short-sleeved in the Canberra November, is undone far enough to display my golden tits if I lean forward. Remind me to lean forward...

You're in your usual teaching gear - trousers and a business shirt. The long sleeves are rolled up, displaying your sexy, golden forearms, the shirt open at the collar, displaying enough broad, hair-dusted chest to make me want to slip my hand in, and explore...

'Sir, are you off the clock yet?' I ask. I'm sitting on my hands to stop myself from grabbing you by the shirtfront and screaming, THERE IS ONLY ONE ANSWER, DAMNIT!

You glance at your watch. 'Technically, it's only twenty to 5...'

'And in reality?' I push, as gently as I can in the circumstances.

'It's twenty to 5 on a Friday in the exam period. I was off the clock about 3 and a half hours ago.'

Good answer! 'In that case...' I reach into my shoulder bag, the brown leather tote you laughingly called my Tardis whenever I pulled out the vital item - bottled water, tissues, painkillers, bandaids - and remove a bottle of champagne. 'I wanted to celebrate my success with the man who never doubted me.'

You're flustered, unsure. 'Really Jane, it's not necessary - I wasn't even your supervisor.'

'And that's exactly why you never doubted me. You've mentored me, you've allowed me to teach, to lecture even,' A favour bestowed on a chosen favourite, I hope, 'And you waded through my drafts.' I say with some finality. 'Please Sir - celebrate with me.' Before you can continue your protests, I'm darting over to the window, popping the cork, and laughing as it spirals over Union Court. 'It'd be a shame to waste it now,' I tease, licking the sweet stickiness off my fingers.

'You are the most remarkable woman,' you sigh, fetching the wine glasses I knew you'd have.

If only you knew.

We make the toast to academia and bright futures, settling back into our chairs. 'Thank you for this,' I say. Playing hard and fast with the truth, I add casually, 'It saves me drinking a bottle of champagne by myself tonite.'

'Surely you have friends to celebrate with, Jane?'

'Of course,' I reply, 'But no one special enough to drink champagne with.'

'I don't believe you,' you splutter. 'You're clever, and funny, and very attractive,' Hello! 'I can't see you without a young man hanging on to your every word.'

Ouch. 'The only young man who hangs on to my every word is my nephew, and that's because I see him so seldom that every visit is a chance to spoil him, much to his mother's delight.'

'Oh,' you reply, obviously discomforted. 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.'

'It's fine,' I say, taking another sip of the cool bubbles. She shoots... 'I'm sure your girlfriend tells you how difficult it is dating someone on a teaching/researching/publishing schedule like yours.'

'I'm not... with anyone.' She scores!

'So you get it - it's hard,' I reply, simply.

'It is. But thank you. I'm touched you consider me special enough to drink champagne with.' Screw champagne, touch me!

'I'll have to enter you in my address book as A Man To Drink Champagne With!' I joke. 'I don't suppose you come out after dark, do you?'

'Why?'

'We're both attending this Ball, apparently. And I'd really like to not have to arrive by myself, have no one to talk to while we're "mingling", and then spend an evening watching undergraduates drink their own bodyweight then hurl it back up again.'

'You do make it sound so attractive...'

'You must rescue me then, Sir. Gallantry surely forbids me going alone?' I'm touching your knee for emphasis, leaning forward. Oh yes. You've seen.

'So, we'll... Drink? Sit through a dinner? Leave as soon as possible?'

'And there'll probably be dancing. So many Balls, all that dancing.'

'Ah,' you start. 'I'm not really a dancer. In any sense.'

Giggling, I reply, 'None of us are dancers. We just hope for the best.'

'No, really, I'm not a dancer. I'm not sure I'm the partner you need for an evening like this.'

I've shown you my boobs. How hard are you going to make me work? 'I'm sure I can teach you.'

'Okay.'

'Okay... what?'

'Okay, teach me how to dance.'

Putting my glass down, I head over to your computer, quickly connecting my iPod in, and turning the volume up. As Gin's 'Oh My' opens, I'm standing in the middle of your office.

'I think it helps if we're a little closer together,' I hazard, looking at you still in your chair.

You look unconvinced.

'Come on, this is a great song.'

Oh my God, I'm beaten in the game of love,
And I fall down, I fall down to my knees I fall,
Oh my God, I'm beaten in the game of love

You walk over to me deliberately. I grab your hands, and start moving. You move... less. I obviously need to introduce the concept in small information sets.

'Follow me,' I murmur. Still holding your hand, I turn on my heel, nestling my back along your front. My hips start swinging, on the heavy bass beat. I'm pull your arm over my shoulder, so you can feel how I'm moving, before turning my head slightly. 'Can you feel it?'

When I feel you start to mimic my movements, I turn back so I'm facing you. Still writhing, I gently place your hands on my hips, before wrapping an arm around your neck and stretching back, offering you my throat, and a look down my blouse. I'm my head's moving, and I'm grinding against you. You've yet to respond, but you haven't stepped away. With the bridge, my hand's on your should and sliding down your chest as I lower myself down your body. I stand back up with a particularly athletic gesture and, with my usual brilliance, knock the pile of folders off the corner of your desk. Immediately, you've broken away from me, and are on your hands and knees, re-filing the papers.

'Um, I'm really sorry?'

'It's not a problem.' You're a million miles away, tracing document runs, putting the rite paper in the rite folder. Screw it.

Deliberately, I stand one leg either side of your shoulders. 'While you're down there...'

You twist to look at me. I've pulled my skirt up my legs to allow me to stretch, and you can see my lace-top stockings, the straps of the garter belt stretching up to the delicious unknown of Under My Skirt. In my sheer stockings and black high heels, the image is at once cliched, but still intensely erotic.

Silently, you stand, clearing the recently salvaged files back off your desk. In one swift movement, you've lifted my up and laid me on the table, my arse at the edge. My skirt's still pulled up, and you gently remove my thong, sliding it down my legs and off my ankle, before kneeling between my thighs and gently, tenderly giving me the best blowjob of my life. You're so talented, and know exactly how to stimulate my clit while sliding your fingers into me, pausing only to throw my legs over your shoulders for wider access. I'm writhing under your ministrations, pushing my pussy against your beautiful mouth, my hands on the back of your head, my vocabulary reduced to Please, More, Don'tstop don'tstop. You don't, and I'm cumming hard, the juices dripping down my thighs and arse. When I return to you Earth, you kiss each of my thighs before standing. I know what you need, and I'm pushing myself into a sitting position to unzip your flies. Firmly, you push me back down onto your desk, pinning my hand above my head. This slight force makes it so much more sensational when you slide into me completely. You quickly establish a rhythm, withdrawing almost completely before sliding back in deep into me. Gently, I struggle against the hand pinning my wrists above my head.

The lust explodes suddenly. Your free hand is ripping my blouse open, tearing at the buttons - you're seemingly desperate to lavish attention on my breasts, as you quickly pull my bra down, exposing my nipples. As you fuck me hard and deep, my nipple is in your mouth, and I'm yelping as you nip and suck. I'm wrapping my legs around your waist, pulling you in deeper, squeezing tightly around you. When I arch my hips and start thrusting back against you, you pace quickens until, with little composure and animal desire, you thrust hard and deep into me, before collapsing on top of me. Your hand releases my wrists, and my hand are running across your body. I'm desperate to touch every part of you, and brand you as my own.

Feverishly, I kiss your neck and jaw. I'm not sure what's happened but if I never have this moment again, I can say that I was loved by you, and I'm a happier, better person for that.

You lift your head from my shoulder and turn to look at me. Our eyes lock as we lie facing each other, side-by-side on your desk.

'You are the most amazing woman,' you breathe.