Amber

Dear readers - While it's not essential, I suggest you read the first chapter of this story, "Amber", so you can get a "feel" for the woman. Like I'm about to, hopefully...

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Since I knew Amber's office, like many medical practices these days, did not have hours on Friday, I figured that she would have plenty of time to primp and prepare appropriately our "date" that same evening.

So, I sent her the first text regarding her wardrobe preparations on Friday morning, while I was tucked away in my own office in the hospital administration section. Fridays were one of the few days where I could play some catch-up, and I planned on investing my precious free time wisely on this particular day.

"Good morning, Mrs. Bailey," I began, continuing to tease her with the reminder that she was still legally a married woman. "Are you ready to take your fashion direction for tonight?"

The electronic reply came within minutes. "Good morning, Mr. Simmons," flashed on my screen. I was pleased at her less than subtle hint indicating her desire to exude submissive and obedient behavior. She was playing the game willingly. "Yes, sir, I am most very ready."

I strategically paused a few additional minutes before responding, wanting to heighten her anticipation.

"I'd like you to dress tastefully on the outside for the public to see, but like a high-priced hooker underneath, solely for our enjoyment. Understood?"

My phone beeped almost immediately. "Yes, sir. Most understood, sir."

Again, I waited longer than necessary to text back, but the bulge in my own trousers was betraying my patient approach. "Very good. So, you agree to be my classy whore tonight, then, I assume, dressed at my whim, for my pleasure?"

Almost instantaneously, "Oh, yes, sir."

"Tell me in your own words."

"I will dress classy for public eyes, but will wear anything you want beneath. Sir. Because I am your whore."

I had to know, so I digressed a bit. I got up and made sure my door was locked an my desk phone was on "Do Not Disturb." I then activated the button on my camcorder, which was already plopped on my desk, aimed at my lap.

"So, my whore, are your rubbing your cunt for me, awaiting my orders?"

"Two fingers have been in my cunt, sir. Dripping for you to order me." If this were Family Feud, Richard Dawson would have called this the number one answer.

I released my own cock from its zipper-enclosed prison now, and began to stroke myself, enjoying the feel of the cool office air now washing over my released shaft, fully aware that my own video was now in progress.

"I want you to wear a mid-length skirt, perhaps a pencil skirt. Not too tight, about an inch or two above the knee. Black. Only black."

She typed much faster than I ever could. "Yes, sir. I will do that. I know just the skirt."

I waited again, watching the pre-cum form on my twitching cock tip. "Splendid," I finally answered. "Snug enough to show that marvelous ass, but loose enough to allow access."

"Oooh, that's deliciously naughty, sir. Thank you."

"I'm just beginning, my whore. I want to plan a bit. Play with yourself while I think." I envisioned her furiously attacking her cunt, her long, lithe body writhing on her bed in torturous pussy-teasing mode.

I reached into my desk for a box of tissues myself. It was just a matter of trying to hold out for as long as I could, when my screen flashed. "Ooooh, fuck. I just came. Hard."

I didn't hesitate this time. "Taste yourself," I tapped.

"Way ahead of you, sir, if you don't mind." She augmented this correspondence with a happy face.

I took a deep breath. I hadn't had a lot of experience doing this kind of control thing in an electronic forum, but it was red hot fun, and I took to it like a duck to a puddle.

"Where were we, Mrs. Bailey?", I teased, feigning a temporary blip in the lesson plan.

"I'm to wear a mid-length skirt, sir. Snug on my ass, but loose on my legs. For access, as you wish." I was glad someone was paying attention. I had to admire her ability to multi-task.

In between my transmissions, I would rub my cock to a frenzy, just inches from the lens, and then release it to type. My shaft throbbed and twitched during the interludes. I wondered how this would look when I would show it tonight to my audience of one.

"Sheer, back-seamed stockings, attached to your garters. Black lace, almost opaque."

"Perfect for your whore, sir." It was apparent she liked my choice. I rubbed some more, impossibly hard now, my cockhead like a big purple balloon about to burst.

"No thong. I want your pussy bare. Just the bustier and garters."

"Even better, sir. My favorite color." I had to suppress my own chuckle. I didn't know Amber had this capacity for humor.

As Jackson Browne once sang, "I wanna find myself a girl who can show me what laughter means." I'll bet he didn't intend for a girl to do that while she was fingering herself, but that made Amber's talents even that much more impressive.

"Yes", I wrote back. "That will be a perfect color for you. Especially since your pussy will be shaved completely bald tonight. Won't it?"

I have to admit, from what I had seen on her little screenplay preview to me, I liked the way she had already landscaped her terrain, so to speak. But I just wanted to be in complete control of this woman's mind and body. It was an ultimate aphrodisiac.

This time, her response was a bit delayed. I fretted for a few seconds that perhaps I had crossed that tenuous tightrope of ambition and aggression. But I need not have worried.

"Unnngh. God. I just came again. That's so hot. Fuck...I've never been bald before, ever."

"This will be a night of many firsts for you, my whore. I also want you to wear the obligatory fuck-me pumps, at least four inches."

Her reply merrily beeped onto my screen. "I love it. It's like you're reading my mind. I haven't worn heels like that in years, it intimidates most men, I fear."

"I'm not easily intimated, nor like most men. I want you towering over me. Do you know why?"

"Because it would turn you on?" she guessed, somewhat accurately, but only partially correct.

I had to make a decision now, I was about to blow. Let my release take its natural course, or prolong my agony? Somehow, I continued, despite my cock almost begging me to provide a mercy-tugging culminating in a thick, milky discharge. All captured on film for the archives.

"Because it will make it easier to fuck you standing up."

Amber's response was excruciatingly slow to come. But when it did, Jackson Browne would have been proud.

"At this point, I think I might as well just keep cumming straight thru 'til eight o'clock."

I did laugh out loud at that one. It must be nice for a woman to be able to continually cum, I mused, a bit jealous. I wondered if that was behind Bruce Jenner's transformation. Christ, what other reason for his dubious decision could be more easily explained than that one?

"You'll be just beginning by eight, Mrs. Bailey. Pace yourself", I warned playfully.

"Remember, it's been more than a year, sir. I have a lot of pent-up energy."

I made a mental note to bring an extra Cialis. As Foghorn Leghorn once said, "Fortun, I said fortunately, son, I keep mah feathers numbered for just such an emergency."

I continued, her wardrobe only chosen for the waist down at this point.

"Now for your top. A blazer only, loosely buttoned over the bustier."

"Mmmmm, yes sir. Classy but slutty, showing just the right amount of cleavage?"

"I'll control that. Understood?"

"Very much so, sir."

"Very good." I glanced down at my cock flopping like a mistakenly caught eel on a fishing hook. It was just a matter of time until Mount Vesuvius erupted. "I also want you to wear a choker collar."

"I'll have to get one, sir. But I love that idea, too. Thank you, sir."

"And while you're purchasing that accessory item, Mrs. Bailey...?"

She waited until she decided that it was her move. "Yes, sir? What else?"

What the hell, I thought, why not? "Nipple clamps. I want you to buy and wear nipple clamps under your bustier. I want your nipples abused and ready."

Her answer told me this woman was full of surprises. I had my hands full, all right, in more ways than one. "I already have those. I haven't worn them in quite a while, but they are in my 'special drawer', sir."

Well, fuck me, I thought. A special drawer. Who'd have thunk it? And this from a woman who hasn't had sex in over a year? While I pondered this, another text came over.

"It's thoughtful of you to notice that I love my nipples to be abused. I'm glad you picked up on that, sir. Thank you."

She was referring to the treatment she provided to her own nipples in her video show. Yes, I'd been paying attention.

"One last thing, Mrs. Bailey..." At this point, I was duly and truly distracted, desperate to cum.

"Yes, sir?"

"Wear bright red lipstick and gloss tomorrow. Not your usual pink. Red, like a whore should wear."

"Yes, sir. Should I use it on my nipples, too?"

Nice touch, I thought. A creative thinker. I love smart women. What the hell, she was in the medical field. It was like chicken soup, what could it hurt?

"Yes," I answered simply, my cock rumbling with an impending burst of lava.

"Oh, and sir? I've requested the far back booth in the Mahogany Room. It's very private. So make sure you ask for that when you arrive."

Before I could type my consent, one last text came through.

"You see, sir, I don't think your whore should wait until after dinner to suck your cock."

I groaned audibly. With just the slightest last tug, thick streams of white seed shot up several feet in the air and coated my desk and lap, while others splashed to the floor.

I sat in my chair, my chest heaving, and hit the "stop" button on my camcorder. I viewed the taping after cleaning up a bit, and I must say, it came out rather well.

I hope Amber enjoys a movie with her dinner.

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