The Seventh Commandment

First off, I would like to apologise to my faithful readers for the delay in delivering chapter 2. Things have happened in my personal life that have distracted me and taken up all of what had previously been my writing time. I have now readjusted my life so that the distraction, namely my new girlfriend, can be juggled enough to allow me time back at the keyboard. Once more I thank you for your patience and hope that this chapter is worthy of your faith in me.

*****

Slowly reality began to bubble back up to the surface. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard; it was not yet eight o'clock. Had my adventure really taken so little time? I began to doubt that it had really happened. Maybe I had imagined the whole thing. Then, I licked my lips and that unmistakeable taste told me that it had really happened. That, and the ache between my legs. As I shifted on the car seat I was also conscious of my lack of underwear. What had I done? A wave of fear and doubt swept over me. Then, the realisation that I had to go home. To what? What awaited me there?

With trembling fingers, I turned the key and the car came to life. I managed to concentrate enough to negotiate out of the car park and along the city streets. I was almost driving on autopilot. A few people were still meandering along, late-leavers before the party set took over. Once away from the centre and into the suburbs I allowed my mind to wander again. Should I tell Miriam? If so, how much should I reveal? Did Madur really mean what she said about meeting again?

I nearly missed a red light which threw reality back at me once more. I drove on more carefully until it was safe to pull in and stop. I wound the window down and took several deep breaths. It was quiet here, just the occasional passing car. The evening was still, and the light had now faded completely. I let the chilling air wash over my face. Its freshness only enhanced the smell and taste of her still lingering on my lips. Hastily I hunted in the glove compartment for some tissues and wiped myself frantically. I certainly couldn't go home smelling and tasting of another woman's pussy. And going home is what I knew I had to do.

Miriam's car was in the drive and it looked like all the lights were on in the house. I pulled up next to her with a scrunch of gravel. I got out and stood up, shaking my head to clear it and taking a few lungfuls of night-scented air. As I closed the front door behind me, I heard the familiar voice from the kitchen.

"Hi, babe, you're late tonight."

I hesitated just inside the door and called back, "Yeah, sorry love, I had to meet a client after hours."

"Damned celebs, right?"

"It's part of the job."

"It's a tough life. Dinner will be about twenty minutes."

I leapt at the opportunity. "Wonderful. I think I'll take a shower first. It's been a long day."

"Okay, but don't dawdle."

I hurried upstairs and into our bedroom, grabbing my bathrobe and then headed for the bathroom. I stripped off as the shower slowly warmed up. I tried to examine myself as best I could. My pussy was very sensitive and seemed slightly swollen and my thighs were streaked with what must be the aftermath of my orgasm. The shameful memories came flooding back. I stepped into the shower and began to scrub myself mercilessly. I wanted to erase all signs of my fall from grace. Eventually I lapsed into an almost trance-like state leaning against the smooth tiles, letting the water wash away my sins.

A knock on the door and Miriam's voice calling. "Are you ok? You seem to be taking forever. Dinner's ready."

I managed to call out "Okay" and then shut off the shower. Unsteadily I stepped out and found a towel. I tried not to think as I dried myself and pulled on my bathrobe. I picked up my discarded clothes and threw them in the laundry basket. I had no choice then but to go downstairs and have dinner with Miriam.

"So, who was this celeb?" she asked casually, "one of your awkward mob?"

"Actually, she wasn't," I replied, tucking into a plateful of tagliatelle. Miriam had recently been on an Italian cookery course and Italian dishes had become a common part of our diet. "To be fair," I continued, "she wasn't too bad. No over the top riders to her contract."

"That makes a change."

"And also, quite a good singer as well. I'm sorry I meant to bring her CD home with me but forgot."

"Did she sign a nice lucrative deal?"

"I left the contract with her but I'm sure she will."

"That was delish," I said, pushing the empty plate away and trying to change the subject.

"I'm glad you liked it. Allesandro is a good teacher as well as an excellent chef."

"It was a good idea, you going to those classes."

"Well, you're never home early enough to do the cooking so someone had to."

"I'm sorry, love, but work's been a bit hectic lately."

"Don't worry, I'm actually starting to enjoy it."

"To be honest, I'm absolutely knackered. I think I'll go to bed."

"Oh, okay," she said suddenly looking up at me. There was a trace of disappointment on her face.

I pushed myself away from the table and stood up. I tried to look apologetic but I'm not sure it was convincing. I turned away and shuffled out of the room. In bed I curled up like a foetus trying to push the thoughts away. I could hear noises from downstairs as Miriam washed up and then silence. When the bedroom door opened, I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. She crept in and undressed in the dark before slipping in beside me. Ours is a big bed and I was scrunched up in my half. Eventually I heard the familiar sound of her gentle snoring and I knew peace for a moment.

I must have fallen asleep at some point as I was startled awake when Miriam opened the curtains and let the sun stream in.

"You're late for work," was all she said as she left the room.

Hazily I tried to make sense of it all. Through bleary eyes I finally managed to focus on the bedside clock. Oh, fuck! I really was late. I almost fell out of bed and rummaged through my wardrobe for some respectable office wear. Yesterday's clothes were still crumpled in the depths of the laundry basket. As I brushed my teeth, I looked at the horror that stared back at me in the mirror. I could still see the guilt etched across her face. I stumbled downstairs still trying to brush my hair. A mug of coffee stood steaming on the surface waiting for me. I grabbed it and started to retreat.

"Thanks for this," I gestured toward Miriam with the mug, "can't stop. See you tonight. I'll try and be earlier."

Without giving her a chance to respond I was out of the door and into the car. I sat there for a moment savouring the black coffee she had made. The caffeine was slowly permeating through me and the world was coming into focus. I started the car and reversed out of the drive.

At work no one remarked on my late arrival and I ducked into the toilet. Another quick brush through my hair and a few deft touches of make-up and I began to feel almost normal. Squaring my shoulders and tilting my chin up I emerged and headed for my office. Luckily things were quiet, and I could bury myself in some mundane tasks and no one was any the wiser. I wasn't disturbed until after lunch when my phone rang. When I picked it up our receptionist announced she has a 'Ms Madur' wanting to speak with me and "Was I taking calls?" I was suddenly awake again. My stomach was churning and there was a tell-tale tingle between my thighs.

"Yes, put her through," I managed to say in what I hoped was my normal voice.

"Hello, Joss," came the familiar and beguiling voice.

I took a deep breath. "Madur, how lovely to hear from you. What can I do for you?"

"There are a couple of points about the contract you left with me that I need to discuss. Can you come to the hotel about five?"

She hadn't been lying! She really did want to meet me again. A wave of relief washed over me.

"Of course, Madur. I'm sure we can sort out any potential problems. I'll be there at five."

The phone went dead in my hand and I stared at it for an age. My whole being screamed at me not to go. I could plead a prior engagement and send a junior. Nothing could be easier. I could easily not turn up and this would all be over. But, deep down, I knew that wasn't an option. Of course, I had to go. She had cast a spell over me that I was helpless to break.

I spent the afternoon on trivial matters, one eye watching the slow progress of the clock. As the time neared my nerves grew but she was like a magnet drawing me ever closer to her. at four thirty I stood up and gathered my things and left, announcing to all and sundry that I had a client meeting.

The streets were relatively quiet at this time. The area is mainly offices and shops are few, so we get very little traffic. I felt like a criminal as I walked the short distance to her hotel. The immaculately prim and proper desk clerk smiled a practised smile.

"I have an appointment with Madur." I announced.

She consulted her computer. "She says to go straight up. Do you know the room?"

I told her I could find my own way. Was it my imagination or was that really a smirk on her face? I turned and headed for the elevator. When I looked back, she was on the phone and looking directly at me. The noise and bustle of the foyer was replaced by tranquillity as the lift door closed behind me. The sudden lurch as I was launched upwards did nothing to quell the nerves that were engulfing me. As her floor approached, I could feel my pussy tingling with expectation. There was a sudden 'PING' as the doors opened to a familiar corridor. I walked at a funereal pace along it until I stood outside her door.

The silence in the corridor was almost deafening. As I stood hesitating outside her door, I swear I could hear my own heartbeat. I took several deep breaths trying to calm myself. With nerves that were already in tatters I took a step forward and tapped lightly on the door. I stepped back waiting. When nothing happened, I steeled myself once more and knocked again, this time a little more loudly. This time I got a response. Her voice, loud but distorted through the heavy fire door, "IN!".

I reached for the handle and turned it. The door was unlocked. I slowly pushed it open and stepped inside. She was sat at the table busily typing into her laptop. She made no move to greet me, simply carrying on reading the screen and intermittently typing.

"You're late," was all she said, not taking her eyes off the screen.

"I ... I'm sorry," I managed to stammer out, even though I was sure I was on time, "I got held up at the last minute."

"I'm busy texting with a friend in New York, so you'll have to wait."

"Of course, no problem."

Her next utterance came as a command and took me by surprise. "Take your clothes off and sit over there." She made a vague gesture towards an armchair in a corner of the room.

"Take my clothes ...? You want me to ...?"

"Yes, strip. And get a move on."

What was going on? Why was she treating me this way? And why, most of all, was I starting to move toward the chair, my confused fingers already fumbling with the buttons of my blouse. Tap-tap went her fingers on the keyboard. I glanced at the laptop and saw a line of text appear on the screen, closely followed by another. My blouse was now undone, and I pulled it off and laid it on the bed next to my shoulder bag. I struggled for a grip on the zipper of my skirt but finally tugged it down. My skirt slipped easily over my hips and I let it fall to the floor before laying it next to my blouse. Then I hesitated. My lack of movement must have caught her attention.

"I said strip and I meant everything."

I unsnapped my bra and tossed it on the bed. The room was very warm, but I could still feel my nipples harden. I hooked thumbs into the waistband of my panties and pulled them down and stepped out of them.

"I'll take those," she said abruptly, holding out her hand. Her eyes never left the screen.

I stepped forward and place the wisp of silk in her hand and stepped back. The armchair caught the back of my knees and I sat down suddenly. I watched as she held my underwear to her nose and breathed in deeply before she opened a drawer and threw them inside. Then, it was back to concentrating on the screen, intermittently typing and reading. I sat slouched as I had fallen, feeling both vulnerable and excited.

"My friend wants to know about you. I've just told her I made you strip." There was mock laughter in her voice. "Shall I ask for her suggestions what to do with you?"

Without waiting for a reply, she wrote rapidly on the keyboard and then leant back waiting. I could just make out the lines of black letters on the white screen. Unbidden a fresh line appeared on the screen and she leant forward to read it.

"Oh naughty. Good idea though," she muttered under her breath. "She thinks I should get you to masturbate."

"She what?" I asked in astonishment.

"I'm going to be some time on here so you might as well amuse yourself while you're waiting. Warm yourself up for later."

She reached into a drawer and took out a large black dildo and tossed it in my direction. I was still in shock and never moved as it arced towards me. It hit me on my left breast and then rolled across my stomach, coming to rest between my thighs. She had already turned her attention back to her long-distance friend.

"Better get started," she said, "my friend doesn't like disobedient girls. You don't want to make her angry."

In the dream I was in I couldn't help myself. I spread my legs as wide as the chair would allow and, moving the dildo out of the way, I started to stroke my pussy. I was already wet, and my fingers slid easily back and forth between my lips. I felt the familiar electric jolt when I touched my clit. The sense of the ritual pleasure allowed me to close my eyes and forget where I was. I pressed harder, using my thumb on my clit and curling my fingers and pushing them inside me.

"Use the dildo," she snapped, startling me back to reality.

I froze and looked up, but she was already busy typing. When she stopped and waited for the expected response, she glanced at me. The look on her face when she saw me looking at her and lying back motionless was one of anger. I immediately fumbled around to find the dildo. It seemed to me to be huge and slightly scary. I started to slide it back and forth across my pussy lips. She gave a half smile and turned back to the screen in front of her.

Tentatively I pushed with the black monstrosity and gasped as I forced my lips apart and began to ease it inside me. I closed my eyes and tried to concentrate on the sensations happening between my thighs, but I could hear the clatter of keys being hit. I pushed harder and ignored the pain as I forced it into me. I felt stretched to the limit, but it was going in. In the background the clatter ... pause ... clatter ... pause. Despite everything I could feel my arousal growing and that familiar feeling beginning to grow inside me. Briefly I opened my eyes to witness her totally ignoring me.

I looked down and watched as I slid the black dildo in and out, seeing it disappear and then reappear at a steady rhythm. I could think of nothing now other than my own satisfaction. I started to speed up and my other hand played with my clit. I was almost there.

"You can stop now," she almost shouted.

I looked up and she was glaring at me. I felt angry and puzzled. I looked back at her pitifully, pleading with my eyes.

"You can go," she continued, "I need to concentrate on my friend."

Under her hard gaze I could feel my orgasm fading back into the shadows. What was going on? I didn't understand what was happening.

"Didn't you hear me?" she demanded, "I said you could go. Get dressed and fuck off!"

"But ..."

"No 'buts'. Leave now! I'll phone tomorrow."

With that she turned back to the laptop and started typing again. The dildo had slipped out of me leaving me empty and confused. Something told me it wasn't worth arguing so I eased myself into a sitting position and then stood up. My clothes, minus my panties, were where I had thrown them. I pulled on my skirt and then hastily buttoned up my blouse. I just wanted to get out of there. I grabbed my bra and my bag and headed for the door. She made no further move to acknowledge my presence even when I opened the door.

Outside the corridor was silent and thankfully empty. I took several deep breaths and swallowed hard. I desperately wanted to burst into tears but steeled myself against the urge. I glanced back at the door still uncertain about what had happened. I stuffed my bra into my bag and headed to the lift. I made it into the lobby without meeting anyone and, with head bowed, trying to hide my face with my hair, I made a beeline for the front door. I walked the short distance to the car park staring at the pavement and ignoring any passers-by. The cool night air kept wafting up my skirt continually reminding me about my missing panties and the lingering wetness between my thighs. Once locked safely inside the car I let it all out.

It was a relief to finally let the tears flow. I felt completely miserable and cheated. Why had I let myself be humiliated like that? That was not like me. I was usually in control, in my job, in my private life. Why had I allowed her to treat me so badly? Why had I acted so willingly? As my bout of crying slowly subsided into sobbing I reached into the glove compartment for some tissues. I dried my eyes and tidied myself up as best as I could by the dim lights of the car park in the rear-view mirror. I looked dreadful. Through the maelstrom of emotions one thought came to the surface. I had to tell Miriam and hope she would understand and forgive me.