The Fires Down Below

She is a pillar of the community. Heavily involved in all kinds of church work and activities. She holds down a career as a teacher; she is squeaky clean, prim and proper, a shining example to her peers. Respected and admired in her community for her goodness and godliness, Kerry has a dark secret. She has developed a voracious need for sex. She still pays lip service to her faith and the respectability of her career, but she has needs and desires that she's often helpless to resist. 'The Fires Down Below,' refer to the biblical fires of hell awaiting the sinful, but it also refers to the fire that smoulders and burns between Kerry's legs

After her first proper photo shoot Kerry was on an emotional high for a couple of weeks. It was almost like post-traumatic stress disorder, except there was no stress, no disorder, just constant flashbacks to the excitement and pleasure she had enjoyed so much. She remembered everything, every touch, every thrill, all the little things, the sucking, the fucking, being used and using him, and the thoughts of what she'd done kept insinuating themselves into her everyday life, exciting her almost hourly.

She was almost constantly wet. She knew she had lost control over her thoughts and when, unable to supress them, her body demanded attention, she surrendered to her need as soon as she could. She'd orgasmed in some unusual places these last few days, in her car in the supermarket car park, at her work, the changing rooms in a shop in the mall, in every room in her house except the kids bedrooms, and once while her husband was watching TV, less than twenty feet away. She was discreet, but always horny.

Rather than feel guilty or anxious, she gloried in her sexuality, her constant need for relief. After all, it was something she loved, and she responded in the way she loved best. She masturbated, touched herself to relieve the need, which was sort of counter-productive she realised after a few days because it only fed into her sexual appetite. Other women might have worried about being a nymphomaniac, or some such nonsense, but not Kerry. She knew nymphomaniacs rarely achieved sexual satisfaction, while she could satisfy herself with her fingers or vibrator in a matter of minutes. She's always been a quick 'comer,' and she orgasmed fast and often.

While she carried on with her everyday routine of work and church activities, Kerry was busy sending out e-mails, and messaging other photographers looking for another photo shoot, or modelling assignment. Luckily for her, the one photographer she had worked with already, had recommended her for another job, which he knew she was perfect for.

One of his business contacts, a man he worked with regularly was looking for a model with the perfect fashion model figure, and subsequently he e-mailed Kerry asking if she was interested. The guy turned out to be a fashion designer, who wanted Kerry, to model his clothing, but it wasn't as simple as putting on the clothing and doing a catwalk show. She'd be fitted for the dresses, and the dress virtually created and sometimes recreated around her as his ideas came to fruition and he adjusted things until he was artistically happy.

Intrigued, Kerry arranged an appointment with him. It wasn't going to be a photo shoot as such. She'd be standing still, almost like a living tailor's dummy, while he dressed her, and made alterations and adjustments to the fabric. It had possibilities she thought, but most male dress designers were gay, from her experience. Admittedly, her experience of dress designers was all garnered from seeing them on TV or whatever, so very stereotypical. She would approach this with an open mind she told herself.

Kerry set out mid-morning for her next assignment. Like her first photo shoot just a couple of weeks prior to this one, she was excited and wet, and once again she resolved to herself that she would deal with it. This assignment was going to be different, primarily because she didn't need to bring any clothes. She was not going to be modelling as she would be expected to normally, but she'd find out more once she got there. She had brought two pairs of shoes, and a couple of changes of lingerie simply because some clothes required different bras for instance. She figured she was well enough prepared.

She found the designer's studio quite easily and parked the car, taking her holdall from the back seat, and slinging it over her shoulder. She rang the intercom and was admitted to the building, and was met by the designer himself, who ushered her into his office.

'So nice to meet you Kerry,' he said smiling. He was tall, about six foot two inches, quite slender, with longish, straight dark hair, brown eyes, and a contagious smile. She felt a little flutter in the pit of her stomach, and a corresponding twitch in her pussy. He looked a fair bit younger than her, but she thought that may not be too big a barrier.

'I'm Jack Purcell,' he said, introducing himself, adding, 'You look great Kerry, tall, slender, and very elegant, exactly what I need. Let's go through to my work room and I'll let you see the kind of thing I'm doing.' Kerry was intrigued and excited by it all, and followed him, her curiosity and interest in hyper drive.

He led the way though into a bigger room, with work benches, waist high along two walls. These were the cutting tables he explained, where he could lay out the fabrics and cut them to fit the paper patterns he had already designed. There was another 'island,' work bench in the centre of the room, couple of tailor's dummies, and mirrors. It was all painted a bright and airy white, which reflected the natural light coming in through the large windows on two sides of the room.

'This is amazing,' Kerry said. 'I really hope we can work together Jack. I love the brightness and airiness of this room. What do you have in mind?' She knew what

she

had in mind, and that was to get his tongue, fingers and cock in her wet pussy, but 'work first, pleasure later,' she reminded herself.

'It's simple really,' he began. 'I want you to be my living tailor's. The only thing is, you'll be starting off wearing just your lingerie, and I'll be measuring you, draping the cloth, using your body as my template for whatever I create, so it's not like a normal photographic or catwalk job. We'll be in pretty close contact sometimes, so if that makes you uncomfortable then this job is not for you. I

will

be taking photographs of our progress as we go along for my records, and to study later when you've gone. Sometimes that sparks a better idea, and it's back to the drawing board. It's not going to be hard work and it may become a regular job where I call you as and when I need you. How does that sound to you?' he finished. She nodded in agreement, smiling happily, especially at the thought of the close contact he mentioned.

'It sounds great to me Jack, however, there are a few things we need to agree about. I'm a teacher in my day job, and heavily involved in my church. That means I can't be seen wearing nothing but lingerie in photographs. It would cause a scandal to say the least. I have to work within a very strict set of guidelines concerning morality and respectability.' He nodded as she continued. 'However, given what I've just said, and it may be hard to understand this, but I'm not some kind of, 'starchy prude,' and I'm very open minded. I have no problem with you

seeing

me in lingerie, it's just that I can't be photographed like that. Swimwear, bikini's and such are okay, but there is a more sexual connotation with skimpy lingerie, and I have to be very careful. If that's okay with you, then we're good to go?' she concluded.

'Yeah, I think we can work with that,' he agreed, smiling at her again 'and if you're uncomfortable about anything just let me know.' He held out his hand and said, 'Deal?' and she took his hand in hers in agreement. He had a good firm handshake, but not a 'bone-crusher,' although she suspected he had the power in his hands to do exactly that.

'Okay Kerry,' he said brightly, 'no time like the present. So if you're ready to work we can start immediately,' he suggested.

'Well, sure,' she agreed, 'that's what I came here for, let's do it.' He showed her to a small dressing room, and told her she could leave her clothing there, and just come back out wearing her underwear when she was ready. She went into the room, and unzipped her dress, took it off and hung it up leaving her in her bra and panties. She took some tissues from her holdall, and pulling her panties down just above her knees, tried her best to mop up the excess wetness oozing from her pussy. The inside of her thighs were already wet, and she carefully blotted that up with the tissues, and scrunched a tissue into the gusset of her panties to try and soak up the wetness trapped there.

It wasn't good, but it was the best she could do. She knew it was a losing battle, but she didn't want to be so obviously wet right from the start. Finally, she dabbed some perfume into her groin, and closely trimmed pussy hair hoping it might mask the tell-tale aroma of her arousal. She opened the door and stepped into the workroom.

'Oh my god Kerry, you look amazing,' he said as she came into the room. It was exactly the reaction she was hoping for when she selected it this morning. The lingerie was not what you might call, 'everyday,' it was more what she thought of as, 'fuck me,' lingerie. It was skimpy, brief to the point of non-existent, completely see through in parts. Her nipples were clearly visible through the cups of gauze and lace, the top of her pussy slit visible just before the more substantial double thickness of the gusset hid the rest. She felt a lurch of excitement in her stomach as she saw the way he looked at her, and when she looked down at his crotch she saw his hardness pushing out the fabric. Her excitement levels shot up and almost immediately she knew she was wet again, convinced she'd be riding that cock before she went home. Bring it on she thought.

'I something wrong?' she said being somewhat ingenuous and pretending not to understand the effect she was having on him.

'Wrong, no nothing's wrong. You just look so... so... hot,' he finally managed to say. Secretly she was ecstatic, but carried the pretence a bit further. She could see from the bulge his cock was making in his pants that she had his full attention.

'Is this not suitable? Do you want me to wear something else?' she asked him acting innocently.

'No, no. it's perfect. A lot sexier than I thought, or I envisaged, but no need to change on my account. I love it.' She smiled at him; he smiled back. That was exactly what she wanted to hear. He didn't know it yet, but he was on a promise, and the promise was that they'd be fucking like sex mad rabbits as soon as the work was done. Maybe even before if he got distracted.

He got her to stand in the middle of the floor, and took a dress from a selection he had ready on one of the benches, and helped her to put it on. He explained that it wasn't finished, the fabric had merely been, 'tacked,' with loose temporary stitches, which would later be removed when he'd made a final decision about how he wanted it to hang, etc. He was behind her, straightening out the shoulders, and then ran his hands down the fabric to smooth it out, which felt very like he was caressing her body, making her shiver.

'Are you okay Kerry?' he asked. 'I know you're not wearing much so if you're feeling cold I can turn the air conditioning down.

'No, no, I'm not cold, I'm fine, it's just that I wasn't expecting that. He looked puzzled for a moment, and she felt she needed to explain, 'I mean when you ran your hands down my body to smooth the fabric, and it felt kinda nice,' she admitted, flirting a little. 'Don't let it bother you, and please don't feel that you can't adjust the fabric properly and do what you have to do. I know you weren't doing it deliberately, or being inappropriate or anything.' she concluded, but thinking, 'I hope you will.'

He worked on around her, adjusting here and there, making alterations where he needed to, occasionally touching her body as required, making her hornier still. Especially when he was making alteration to the bust line, which required him to move the fabric around, and the back of his hand kept coming into contact with her right nipple. She gasped out loud the first time it happened, and he looked at her inquiringly. She gave him her most sultry and horny smile, and told him it was fine.

'I'm very sensitive there, but it's not a problem for me or anything, just carry on,' she explained. He apologised again, and she assured him she was fine. Prepared now, she managed to stifle any outward show of arousal, but her body was responding just fine, making her hornier and hornier by the minute. Eventually he pronounced himself happy with the dress, explaining that he could now finish it with the new alterations.

'Right we'll get this one off, and I'll just quickly check one more before we have a short break,' he said, adding, 'don't move, I'll do it,' and he very carefully it seemed to her, helped her out of the dress. 'It's in a bit of a delicate state until it's properly stitched,' he explained again, and she thought it wasn't just the dress, she was in a delicate state too.

He took the dress over to the bench and picked up another, once again helping her into it. This one was lot different to the first, which had been a day wear type dress. This one he described as a party dress. It was cut low at the top and high at the hem. It fitted her slim figure beautifully, despite only being loosely stitched or ,'tacked,' as dressmakers describe it, which just means temporarily stitched. Once again she got the shivers as he moved around her smoothing the fabric, but he just smiled at her as he worked.

'He knows,' she thought, 'he knows I'm aroused. 'He

must

know, fuck, I can smell myself from here,' but she tried not to show it externally. Looking down at herself quickly, she could see her nipples were hard and prominent, showing clearly through her bra and the clinging fabric. He moved back from her a few feet to get a better idea of how it looked, studying the line of the dress, studying

her

, she thought.

'You're standing quite casually, with your weight on one leg,' he stated, 'which is a natural relaxed stance, but for this part I need you to put your weight on both feet, so the material is hanging more equally. She stood up straight, feet together, and he smiled at her again. 'I think the fabric will hang better, and it would be much more stable for your balance if you stood with your feet apart. She adjusted her stance again, knowing he was right, but feeling just a little vulnerable, especially with her being so wet and horny, and getting wetter with every minute that passed.

Her pussy had a prodigious flow once it got started, and with her panties being so skimpy she knew it was just a matter of time before her wetness overcame the fabric, and started to trickle down the inside of one thigh or the other. Her husband and previous partners had always been amazed at how wet she became before and during sex. She couldn't control it in any way, it just happened, and secretly, she was proud of her ability to drool and dribble her pussy juice over everything.

Sometimes it could be a problem if she was sitting when she started to, 'flow,' as she thought of it. It would seep through between her thighs and soak into the material below her bottom, and if the dress was the 'wrong,' colour, show as a wet patch on her dress when she stood up. Well, she wasn't sitting down today, but she worried that it may be approaching the moment when it overcame the ability of the fabric to contain it, and then she thought she didn't care now, and if he sees it so much the better. Her arousal had overcome any embarrassment she may have felt even just a few minutes ago.

'Mmm... the hem's not hanging right,' he said as he walked around her, viewing her or rather the dress from every angle. She was very aware that he was behind her, tugging the cloth, smoothing the fabric down over her bottom. It felt great, and if he would just bend her over and fuck her it would be even more wonderful, and with that thought, she felt it. A slight sensation on the sensitive skin of her groin and upper thigh, a trickle, gently oozing it's way past the sodden panties, escaping the confines of the material, and beginning its slow, viscous journey downwards. She knew it was just a matter of time before he saw it. She became more agitated, and her breathing was beginning to be affected too, and now he had moved round and was fiddling with the fabric just inches from her pussy. He must see it; he must know, her brain screamed. Straightening up he looked at her and smiled a knowing smile, and then he placed his left hand flat on the small of her back.

She looked into his eyes, and he into hers and in that moment some instinctive none-verbal communication passed between them, just a look, she nodded. His right hand slipped under the hem of the short dress, and he rubbed her pussy through the wet panties. Her legs almost gave way, and she flung her arms around his shoulders for support, clinging to him. She moaned loudly and thrust herself hard against his hand. Her breathing was now totally out of control as he rubbed the panties into her sex, and then seconds later he bypassed the panties, and his fingers were stroking her naked, trimmed slit, slipping between her pussy lips and on into the fiery depths with devastating effect. She came within two or three strokes of his fingers, moaning loudly in her pleasure, opening her legs wider, surrendering the prize to him willingly.

He half walked her; half carried her over to one of the benches as she began to recover, her legs still so weak they barely supported her. Kissing her, caressing her breasts, she was still in that post orgasmic daze, feeling him lifting the dress higher.

'Let's get this off you first,' he said urgently, peeling it up and over her head, throwing it to one side. He squeezed her nipples gently through the lacy bra, and then a little harder, making her whimper and gasp with the sensation on her tits. She felt the bra fall away as he expertly unhooked it by sense of touch, and then he stroked the long expanse of silky sensitive skin of her back as he kissed and caressed her in a gesture very like the way he had smoothed the dress fabric earlier. She shivered again at the feeling and then he switched his attention to what the bra had barely concealed, her breasts.

She had a typical fashion model's figure, very slender and she had breasts that typically goes with that kind of body. Small, but beautifully formed, with gorgeous big nipples. Their sensitivity varied with the time of the month, but today they were contributing wonderfully to her excitement as he fondled and squeezed, she gasped and then moaned really loudly as he dipped his head and took one of the dark, brownish pink nipples into his mouth and sucked. He continued to feast on her nipples, his hands meanwhile pushed her panties down over her slim hips where they fell to the floor, she kicked them away and spread her legs in invitation.

Once again his hand slipped between her thighs, and desperate to be touched she pushed her pussy forward to impale herself on the invading fingers. He slipped a finger into her vagina, then another, stretching her just a little at first and then more, it felt good, and he felt for that little rougher patch of internal tissue behind the pubic bone where her g-spot was located, and finding it almost immediately, he curled his fingertips and proceeded to rub and massage it firmly.

The pleasures mounted inexorably, one upon another, the sucking and nibbling at her nipples, the fingers stretching her pussy and she felt the first distant tremor of her impending climax, and welcomed it, thrusting herself even more vigorously against his hand, knowing it was going to be a big one. Her legs and thighs trembled and shook, the hand between her legs somehow robbing her of the strength to support herself, and then she was coming.