Chantals Savior Pt 01

Chantal's Romantic Savior

(Awakening)

"Oh, I'll bet that one feels good,"

Chantal thought excitedly as she looked at the computer screen in her deserted office.

"If only I had the nerve to order one."

The screen was filled with a large black dildo offered through an online erotic toy supplier. It was six thirty and she was still at her desk. She fantasized about using the toy to satisfy her cravings, or having a deep-voiced gentleman slide the monster into her slippery cove. Her nonexistent sex life was beginning to become a problem, so she surfed and dreamed while looking for a solution. Her timidity and prudishness would probably keep her from acting even if she found something, but the search provided some small measure of excitement.

She was in no hurry to go home. Nothing there enticed her to hurry back. Often, she preferred to stay at work rather than return to find her husband watching TV.

When Bill and Chantal had married in college they were convinced they were in love. But the years had demonstrated how few things they shared and how little they loved each other. They barely talked; they just seemed to lead parallel lives in the same house. The subject of a separation had never been approached, probably because neither was willing to make waves in their lives. Life was running straight into the future with no mountains or valleys, no fights or love, no excitement or depression. It was simply heading unexcitingly to nothing.

Chantal had learned after two years of marriage that her body would never let her have children. Both she and Bill plunged into their respective jobs for fulfillment. Somehow neither had found a calling or a passion to engage their energies completely. So ten years later Chantal was screaming inside for a different, more rewarding life. She had no idea how to alter its course or how to tell Bill how unsatisfactorily she viewed her life.

It was obvious that Bill no longer desired her. Whenever her needs became overbearing, she initiated what little intimacy existed in their marriage. Things had to change. She had to find a way of exciting Bill or she would go crazy. Their love had never been intense or rough, but they had always been comfortable and never fought, so she really didn't feel she could complain. As a couple they both made good salaries, and shared a lovely home.

"Damn, I 'm thirty two, reasonably good looking, and I like sex," Chantal was thinking. "This can't be the best I can get. I want more excitement, no, I just want more!"

Chantal turned off her computer and headed reluctantly home. How to commence the needed transformation mystified her, and occupied her thoughts as she drove home to prepare another dinner for Bill.

After eating, Bill announced, "I'll be going to a construction materials conference next week. I'll be in Reno and should be gone four days, counting the travel time."

"Oh, that's new," answered Chantal. "I thought you hated travel. You always say you don't like to fly when I suggest a vacation far away."

"Well it's important for me to see what's new in my field," he mumbled. "Otherwise I won't be competitive. You know, the clients are always asking for the latest gizmos."

"Can't you send your assistant," she asked.

"No, I want to see for myself," he answered a bit irritated. "Now, let me watch the game," he said as he turned his back on her.

Chantal was surprised, but actually thrilled with the chance to be alone for a few days. She figured it might give her a chance to find a solution to her needs.

The following day she received a call from one of her firm's clients. Richard was an important wine merchant and some cases of wine had been lost in transit from Italy. He had done all the research and was sure they were not recoverable. In the course of numerous calls with Richard to discuss and request documents, Chantal came to enjoy his deep voice and the gentle assuredness of his manner. His rich baritone and the calm patience with which he explained his loss were almost seductive.

She began to realize he had lost an expensive shipment and the company would be sending him a substantial check if all the facts were verified. It looked like Chantal would be putting in some long hours before the case was resolved. She requested all pertinent documents be sent to her and began the exhaustive process of creating a concise dossier of his loss. By the end of the day Chantal knew many questions remained unanswered. She quickly called Richard one more time. Again his resonant voice enthralled her. He asked her if he could have her personal e-mail address as well as her private number.

"We will be talking and sending documents for a few days," he said. "We might as well get to know each other and make this as pleasant as possible. I have no doubt your company will honor my request for reimbursement, but it'll require quite a bit of work on both your and my part to make them consent."

Chantal acceded and gave him all her contact numbers. As the process continued, she found herself calling Richard more often than perhaps necessary, yet he was never annoyed. She did some Internet research on him and his company to know as much as possible about his life and business. On the third day of their working together, he sent her a personal e-mail thanking her for her efforts and apologizing for taking her time away from her family. In her reply, a dam burst and she told him at length about how little her "family" mattered and how pleased she was to assist him. As soon as she pushed the "send" button, she regretted her tirade. She was sure he would think her completely unprofessional.

Bill was again in front of the TV when she returned home late that evening.

"I've already eaten so don't worry about me. I have to pack later; my flight to Reno is leaving early in the morning."

She had forgotten about his trip, but the timing was excellent. She could be alone with her stupidity. She went to the kitchen to fix a salad which she took to the den and turned on her computer. An e-mail was waiting from Richard. She was terrified to open it so she stood up and started to leave the room. At the door, curiosity won over fear and she returned to sit in front of the screen. Still she couldn't make her hand push the read button, and she stared at the screen for two minutes without moving. Finally she clicked the mouse.

"Oh my, Chantal, you sound so unhappy. No one as young and attractive as you should endure a boring life. Yes, I have done my research on the person trying to solve my problem. I hope you don't mind, but I must research all the wines I purchase so why would I not do the same to someone who could save me a great deal of money?

"If you would not be offended I would like to communicate with you on a personal basis.

"Perhaps I could even bring you some joy from time to time.

"This would not impact our professional relationship at all. I expect the insurance issue to last no more than another ten days, but I would enjoy talking and writing to you long after.

"Forgive a 46-year-old widower his forwardness.

Richard"

Chantal almost wept with joy. How could she have become so lucky? This man was offering her the buoy she needed to keep from drowning. Her fingers flew over the keyboard as she gushed her thanks and told him of her needs and dreams. She couldn't hold back even truly delicate details of her life. She wrote pages, letting out many thoughts she was unaware lurked in her mind. At the end, just before sending the letter, she read what she had written. She added:

"I hope I have not frightened you away, but your kind offer of friendship has unleashed many emotions lashed in the far corners of my mind.

"Please forgive my imposing, but you have already made me feel better.

Thank you, Chantal"

The act of sending the note gave her the feeling she was finally taking control of her life.

The next day work occupied her completely. She wanted to solve the problem for Richard yet she must do the best job possible for the company. She did not want her special feelings to interfere with her task. At the end of the day, he sent an e-mail asking if he could call her at home during the evening. She answered yes; thrilled she would be able to talk privately to him. She knew she would be alone in her house and anticipated having a wonderful chat.

The phone rang shortly after she arrived home.

"Hello."

"Hello Chantal, this is Richard. I am so glad you answered. I know you have a lovely voice but now I want to know all the other details." He said. "Tell me about yourself; help me get to know you."

"Oh, Richard," she answered, astounded by his warm familiar tone. "There is not much to tell."

"Let's start over," he said lightly. "How tall are you, what color eyes, how do you like to dress, what are your favorite foods, do you like music? Tell me all the other things a new friend needs to know!"

Chantal began to tell him of her 5'6" frame, her hazel eyes, dark hair, slight build, and many other particulars. Their conversation flowed on, covering much of their lives and loves, until Chantal noticed they had talked for an hour and a half.

"I can't keep you on the phone forever, you must have something you need to do," she said.

"No, my dear, I am alone in my big apartment. No one to go see, and no social occasions this evening," he admitted quietly.

"Well, Richard, I must get my rest as I have a difficult client I must please at the office tomorrow," she said, teasing him. "If I may, I might send you an e-mail after my bath. I so enjoyed our chat."

"I will think of you covered with bubbles and wait patiently for your e-mail."

Chantal ran the bath while thinking of her conversation with Richard. His voice had so warmed her, his manner so softened her, and now she had the feeling she could tell him all. She could open her mind and reveal thoughts and emotions she was barely aware were hiding deep within her. She soaked in the bath, thinking softly erotic thoughts while she soaped her breasts and belly. She had not touched herself in this manner in many months. She was amazed his voice could instill these feelings. She dried herself and put on her fluffy bathrobe. She went to the kitchen for a glass of wine, and took it to her computer

She sat at the keyboard, and just like the evening before, her fingers flew over the keys, writing her thoughts to Richard. As the words filled the screen, she became bold and told of her desires. She wrote of her need of a warm touch and intimacy. She admitted to wishes that were incompatible with her marriage. Finally, she realized she was going too far. She deleted the last two paragraphs and sent him what was left.

She got up and paced the living room wondering how he would reply. The telephone rang, her heart jumped, and she drew a deep breath as she answered.

"Dearest Chantal, you wish to share so much," Richard crooned. "You have so many unfulfilled needs. Would you like to have a long chat? I have the time."

Chantal became flustered. She felt her heart racing. With a start, she realized the problem.

"N-No, thank you," she stuttered. "I would prefer if we could have an online chat. Somehow hearing your voice makes me nervous. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my dear, let's chat right now. I have lots to tell you also."

Chantal returned to her computer. He had already sent her an e-mail telling her where to go to chat. She followed his instructions and said "hello."

Quickly their chat became very intimate as she explained why she felt so frustrated with her life and her compelling need for sensual fulfillment. She unabashedly told him how long it had been since she had experienced the waves of pleasure she knew her body could produce. He was understanding and often straightforward in his answers. He explained his relating to her desires as he had not been close to any woman in the three years since the death of his wife.

Suddenly she read,

"What are you wearing?"

"Only a fluffy bathrobe,"

she answered.

"Open it and let it fall onto the back of your chair."

"Yes, Richard."

"Now tell me what I would see if I were looking at you. I want you to help me see every detail."

"You would see shoulder length dark brown hair, hazel eyes slightly too far apart, a short nose, and a wide full mouth. I am not wearing lip-gloss now but often I wear a rusty red. My shoulders are square but my collarbones are too prominent. My skin is pale and soft; I use plenty of lotion after every bath. My breasts are still nice though they are beginning to show signs of going south. They are not very big but I do need to wear a bra. OK, yes, my nipples are getting hard, but that's because I am chilly and not wearing any clothes. You can't take all the credit!"

"And what would happen if I told you to caress those breasts?"

"I am doing just that right now, and it feels wonderful."

"Pinch your right nipple."

"Oh, you are nasty. It is hard to type with one hand. I am still pinching, it feels so good!"

Chantal could not believe her eyes.

"Did I really just type those words?"

She asked herself. Yet the sensations coursing though her body told her to continue. She had not been this excited in a long time.

"Don't worry about typing,"

he answered.

"Simply follow my instructions. Now touch your other breast in the same manner until both nipples are hard. Caress and pinch them until I allow you to move. Do not drop your hands lower. Tell me, now, are both your nipples hard and tender, is your belly yearning to be touched?"

"Yes,"

she typed with her left hand.

"Now slide your right hand to the top of your fur while your left plucks your right nipple. Gently stroke the insides of your thighs. Gently, barely touching, let your fingers flutter over your skin."

She followed his commands, her fingers sending tremors throughout her body. Chantal was more aroused than she had been in years. The act of letting someone else guide her touch made the experience far more intense.

"Are you damp? Just type the letter Y for yes, and N for no

."

"Y"

"Brush your right hand as lightly as possible over your lower lips. Try to gently spread the beads of moisture along the full length of your opening. Keep the touch very light! You will follow my commands. Continue stroking your lips softly until they are completely covered in your dampness.

"Are you coated along your whole flower?"

"Y"

"Using your first and third fingers to caress your lips and let the second finger slide between your lips. Do not push in; simply slide along the opening but not going all the way to the top. Be patient, we are in no hurry. Now pinch your right nipple again. Pinch it as hard as you like while keeping a very soft touch on your pussy.

"Do your hips want to rise off your chair?"

"Y"

"While you pinch your nipple collect a bit of moisture with your second finger and slide it up to coat your button. Very softly! Don't forget to caress your lips with the other fingers. When your button is wet and slippery, make little circles with your finger around its base. Try not to touch the end.

"Do you feel the wetness beginning to seep out onto the chair?"

"Y"

"Ah, now, collect your dew with your second finger and coat your thumb.

Once your thumb is soaking wet start to pinch your right nipple with your left hand. Gently begin probing your canal with your second finger. Slide your finger in and out only as far as the second knuckle with slow strokes. As your hips begin to move, have your first finger join your second, but do not probe too deeply.

"Chantal, I can see the pleasure on your face. My mind sees the flush of your cheeks and the blush on your shoulders. I so wish I could kiss your neck!"

"Now take out both fingers and coat your thumb again. As you return both fingers to the entrance of your tunnel, try to add your third. As all three slide into your passage, caress your button with your thumb."

"Now, my dear, stop looking at this screen, close your eyes, think the most erotic thoughts you possess, and let your fingers make your body explode!"

Chantal leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. She could see a tender man lying next to her on a bed, slowly kissing her neck. Her left hand mercilessly pinched her left nipple. Her fingers plunged deeply into her soaking channel while her thumb circled her sensitive bud. Her breathing became noisy and deep as her chest heaved in passion. She could hear the squishing of her fingers as they attacked her pussy. The sound seemed extremely erotic and increased her craving to reach her peak. Needing more stimulation, she removed her first soaking finger and used it to pinch her clit with her thumb. Her other two fingers deep in her tunnel began to feel the contractions of the release she so desperately needed. She pinched both tit and clit in rhythm producing an explosive orgasm.

Not in a long time had Chantal felt such waves of pleasure engulf her body. The pulses shot from belly to chest as her hands stilled and slowly relaxed. Her breathing slowed. When she opened her eyes she was surprised to find herself sitting at her computer. She looked at the screen and saw the words.

"Chantal dear, are you OK?"

"Oh, my, give me a moment. That was amazing!"

She typed with her left hand.

"Take your time, breath deeply, have a drink, and know how I wish I were there with you."

"I'll be right back….No, please call me!"

The phone rang. "Hello? Oh, Richard! I can't type. My hand is soaking wet and smells of delicious sex."

"My dear, I hope I helped you have pleasure," he softly purred. "You deserve so much more. You must forgive me for taking control, but I had to release the caged feline inside you. I can't tell you how much I want to see you as you climax."

"Oh, Richard, I so enjoyed your orders, I loved the result, but I'm married so you just won't get to see me that way."

"Yes, I know, but you must allow me to dream. Now, my lovely, go to bed and dream of more, but don't touch yourself," he commanded. "I will tell you how and when you may bring yourself pleasure."

"OK, but I must take a quick shower. Don't worry I will only sleep. I believe I told you earlier I have a difficult, and demanding, client to deal with tomorrow," she tauntingly answered.

"Good night and thank you so much."

"Good night, my dear, until tomorrow."

The next morning Chantal awoke rested and feeling wonderful. The wince caused by putting on her bra made her remember the previous night. Her nipples were terribly sensitive and still a little red from the rough treatment. Her pussy was equally sensitive so she decided not to wear any panties and to put on a long skirt. She went to work full of energy and yet worried she would not be able to remain professional when dealing with Richard. Nonetheless, the prospect of talking to him soon made her happy enough to forget her concerns.

At work Chantal dashed by the ordinary office obstacles. She called Richard and found him completely professional with no allusions to the intimate exchange of the previous evening. The realization that she had to be as professional inspired her to really pay attention to her job. Her questions to Richard became probing and even aggressive. There was no reason not to protect her company, and her job, simply because she had had wonderful cyber sex with him the night before. During the day she sensed he had understood she was not going to compromise her job and became a bit cool in their exchanges. When she requested another bill of lading he answered. "You aren't going to make this easy for me are you?"