A Dirtier Mind Ch 01

It started with a hangover. Her head rose from the pillow under a haystack of raven hair. "That is definitely it...I need to stop smoking." Her mouth felt like someone -- or something -- had vomited into it. The stench on her hair told its own story, as would the stain on the bathroom floor. A bottle of wine too far, of course. But the hangover from the excess cigarettes -- as any smoker will tell you -- just multiplied the hell her body was in. How many had she got through yesterday? 40? 50? She heaved again at the thought of it. Running to the bathroom, she sent Steve's cup of coffee flying as he tried to swerve out of her way on the landing.

"I know how you feel, Jane" he called through to her as she threw up behind the bathroom door. It was time to cut the habit. "If you're serious I'll do it with you."

No response. Just coughs and spits and groans. But she heard. She had to try and stop -- and for far more obvious reasons than any hellish hangover -- but first she needed the room to stop spinning and her head to stop thumping and her stomach to stop protesting. Then she would put her mind to it.

Two weeks later they were sat in a bar, smoking. "Well I did go longer than you," she sniped. "You've been lying through your teeth."

"Well I'm pretty sure you have too," he smiled back. He took another drag, savouring the flavour. "We obviously can't do it unaided. What about hypnosis?"

"Is it expensive?"

"Not as expensive as buying these fucking things!"

"I don't know... where do you go?"

"Someone at work did it with hypnosis. I'll ask her."

"Hmmmm. I'm not too keen on being hynotised. The whole idea just freaks me out."

"Well I'll go first then. See if it works on me without turning me into a raving loon, if it does you can give it a go. I'm serious -- I really want to stop."

"So do I."

"Well let's do it."

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Steve's workmate had benefited from the hypnotist after seeing him at a comedy club in London's West End. He had offered, during the half-hour interval, to tackle five people's smoking habits in a session in his dressing room for a small cash-in-hand payment. She had volunteered and the method had worked. She had been 'clean' for five months and suffered no pangs, no regrets -- and was considerably richer.

Steve had to phone the comedy club to get the guy's name, then search for him on the internet, eventually tracking him down to an agency based in London. He called, explained the situation, was keen to pay for the hypnotist's time and left a number and email address. A couple of days later he had a response -- John Jones would gladly help, at a "reasonably-priced" £50 for a half-hour session at his central London home. There was at least a money-back guarantee, though, if Steve found himself smoking again. Another week later he returned home to a sceptical Jane fully 'cured'. Only after several drunken nights out -- and quite a few nights in with a still-puffing Jane -- did she believe.

"All right I'll do it. But you'll have to come with me. He might be a pervert."

"If you're lucky."

"I'm serious."

"OK I'll come with you. After work one night?

"Sure..."

"I'll email him now."

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Another fortnight later they were ringing the doorbell marked 'JJ' at a Victorian town house in north London. Buzzed in, the pair climbed two flights of stairs to be greeted by a scruffily dressed man with a broad smile. Jane was shitting herself.

"Hi," she squeaked.

"Jane isn't it?" John asked, offering his hand. "Don't worry it doesn't hurt. Your husband is a satisfied customer, remember!"

"Yes I know. I've just never done this before."

"Come on in, let's have a cup of tea and relax."

Steve sat in on the session, intrigued to see his wife go under after wondering all week whether she would be too resistant. John's tack once she was out wasn't exactly rocket science, but if it worked good luck to him. He sat by the window talking softly, Jane facing Steve in a huge armchair, her eyelids twitching, her cheeks flushed, her hands primly in her lap, feet neatly together. Her "best behaviour" pose. Steve smiled, warmed by the thought of some of her other poses.

"Right then," John whispered, rising from his chair. "Want me to make her act like a chicken for five minutes?"

"Ha! I've forgotten the camera sorry."

"If there's anything you'd like extra, though. We could come to an arrangement."

"How do you mean, 'extra'?"

"Well some guys like to spice up their sex life through this. Come over here." He led Steve through the open door into his study, though still almost whispering. "I can plant a keyword and when you utter it, Jane will act in a certain way. £100 and I can make her into your dream woman. Simple."

"She is my dream woman. We do fine in the sex department."

"OK, I'll spell it out. What about if you said the word 'slut' and then she became an absolutely no-holds-barred animal? What about that? I can do that. You can turn her on and off like a switch."

"You can really do that?"

"Guaranteed," he smiled and then loped back into the lounge. He looked round at Steve with an arched eyebrow. Steve reached for his wallet. Listening to the instructions John was uttering to Jane made him hard. He didn't want to have to get out of the chair in a hurry. If Steve -- and only Steve -- said 'slut' that is exactly what Jane would become. If Steve clapped his hands three times the 'spell' would be broken. John promised there would be no adverse effects, and promised no other person would be able to trigger the change. It sounded too good to be true. It certainly sounded too good for £150. But it had to be worth a try.

Back at home an hour later Jane stood looking at the pack of cigarettes she had pulled from her handbag. She didn't want one. What's more, the thought of having one made her nauseous.

"Need a light?" smiled Steve, leaning against the wall watching. He was trying to spot any slight differences in her behaviour, any signs that she might have been damaged in some way and, more importantly, any sign of increased subconscious desire.

"Actually I don't," she said. "I have to admit, right now it seems to have worked. For once, you were right." She walked over smiling, wrapping her arms round his neck to share a quick couple's kiss. "Now I'll have more money to spend on clothes." She kissed him again.

"Hmmmm. What should we do to celebrate?" His turn to kiss her -- only more suggestively.

"Oh, Stevie. Always wanting to 'celebrate'." She giggled as they shared a clinch in the kitchen doorway. "Look, let me just sort out my paperwork for tomorrow then we can take what's left of that wine up to bed, eh?"

"OK."

He sat opposite her in the living room, watching as she sorted through a folder stuffed with case files. He pretended to be engrossed in the football on TV, but his gaze was firmly on his wife. Should he try it? What if it didn't work? She'd go mad for being called a slut. Then he had an idea.

"So what are you going to wear for the big meeting tomorrow?"

"Dunno. A suit."

"The one with the really short skirt? Just to help move things your way?"

"Good idea. Maybe I will."

"Slut." He said it with enough mock-seriousness to ensure that, if there was no effect, she would know it was just a joke between lovers. There was a slight pause in her movements, and for a moment he thought she was going to take him to task. Then she put her pen down, sat back in the couch and things escalated.

"You know, if I could perform for Thompson that would definitely swing it my way."

"I'm sure it would."

"I wonder if he goes for that. Sexual bribery. A blow job might be a small price to pay."

"So long as you practice on me."

She smiled at him. "You can have a bit more than a blow job." She pushed her pile of work aside and crawled across the floor to him on all fours. When she arrived she pulled his knees apart, grinning from ear to ear, and pushed her hands slowly up his thighs until they were squeezing and coaxing a bulge in his jeans. "You get the full service."

She began taking off her shirt then sprang to her feet. "I know! Why don't I put on tomorrow's outfit. You go to the study and pretend to be Thompson. We'll see if I can get what I want, hey?" She winked and leaned over to kiss him. He gave a muffled ascent and she skipped out of the room and up the stairs.

He couldn't believe it -- it seemed to be working. There was definitely something different about her, and tossing her work aside to crawl across the floor talking dirty was the clearest sign of all. The imminent roleplay would be interesting, he thought. They had fooled around with scenarios before but Jane had always seemed to be a bit self-conscious, not really enjoying herself. And it was never her idea -- until this time.

Steve closed the blind in the study and sat at the desk, waiting keenly, listening to far-off wardrobe doors and giggles. She took her time but it was worth it. She glided in dressed to kill. The suit -- with shortest skirt, naturally -- black heels, stockings, white shirt with cleavage, hair tied up and spectacles a la typical secretary. She'd even put her make-up on and brought a briefcase.

"Thanks for seeing me at such short notice Mr Thompson," she said without any trace of irony.

"That's OK Jane," Steve couldn't help but smile.

"I wanted to talk to you about today's meeting."

"OK. Go on..."

"I think it would make more sense for me to deal with Jameson. The case is almost the same as Kingston last year. I don't think Emma can handle it."

"Oh you don't?"

"No." She shifted in her seat, re-crossing her legs to flash some stocking-top at Steve.

"Well I'm not sure I can get involved. Hugh has allocated the cases, and I have to trust him to do it correctly. I haven't really heard anything to convince me..."

"What if I did something to convince you?"

"Do something? What could you do to convince me?"

Her eyes had been firmly on him throughout their 'scene' while his had wandered up and down her body, distracted by her delicious legs. A silent pause brought his eyes back up to hers though as he waited expectantly, and she held his gaze as she sank from her chair to the floor and shuffled up in front of him. She laid her hand lightly on his thigh.

"Well I'll leave that up to your discretion, sir."

Her other hand reached up and she parted Steve's knees just has she had down earlier downstairs, pushing up his thighs to his waiting erection. This time, after a quick exploratory squeeze, she was unfastening his belt buckle and zipper, pulling at his trousers and boxers to release his cock.

Steve offered some token resistance for realism. "Jane, I'm not sure this is app..." He was cut off by her mouth sinking straight over the head of his cock. She had not bothered with her normal slow, sensual build-up -- this time it was straight into loud, hungry sucking. After a minute or so she looked up, her smeared lipstick betraying the effort she had already put in with his dick.

"So you're willing to do a deal?" She didn't wait for an answer and went straight back down, her head soon bobbing on Steve's cock while her hand squeezed and stroked his balls beneath. During one of her brief mouth-breaks to lick and kiss his shaft she let him know that he should warn her when he was going to cum. That point was reached all too soon what with the intensity of the action down there, and after he whined a "yes, now" between groans she pulled away and held his cock directly at her face. She had never, ever, done that before.

His cum bolted right into her face, clouding her pristine spectacles, collecting around her nose. Four, five, six shots sprayed across her face. Her eyes were open behind her glasses, she shifted her face around slightly each time making sure both cheeks, her slightly-parted lips and her chin all had their share of the warm, sticky liquid. Steve was gobsmacked. He didn't know what to say, this really was a dream come true. When his cum subsided to a few pathetic trickles to the floor she returned her mouth to the end and sucked gently, emptying his manhood of the drops that were waiting inside. She finished with a kiss on the end then stood up with a devilish smile.

"I trust we have a deal, Mr Thompson?" she said, carefully removing her glasses and reaching for a tissue to wipe them clean. Whether she was deliberately leaving the cum spattered all over her face to be wiped away after the lenses were cleaned Steve had no idea, but it was a nice touch. This was all so uncharacteristic. And he couldn't wait to see what he got away with next.

"Well there is a slight problem, Jane," he said as she finally wiped the cream from her face, but making a point of licking up any remnants from her lips and chin.

"Oh? What's that?"

"Emma's already been in here and 'done a deal' as well." He couldn't help but laugh. She smiled back at him and gave him the 'you cheeky bastard' look. "She's, erm, already offered a little more than you have. But if you think this case is worth it I'm sure you will up the ante."

"Did you fuck Emma, Mr Thompson?" Jane asked stepping towards him but beginning to unbutton her shirt.

"I couldn't possibly say..."

"Well goodness knows how I can beat that." She tossed her shirt across the room, removed her bra and then unzipped her skirt, stepping out of it and towards Steve. She pulled the clip from her hair and let it tumble to her shoulders before pressing her body against his, a semi-hard cock between them, she in nothing but her stockings and heels. She kissed him and he could smell his cum on her. He loved that.

He cupped her curvy butt in his hands and pulled her harder against him as they kissed. He knew exactly how she could "beat that". His right hand wandered further round, his middle finger extending as his left hand pulled her cheek. He probed gently at her asshole, merely tickling and caressing the opening. She smiled in the midst of their snog.

"Mr Thompson! Would that convince you?"

Steve was rock hard again, bursting at the thought that he was going to get Jane to agree to anal so easily. They had done it maybe six times in as many years, nearly always because she was heavily under the influence. Of course, she was under an influence now -- but Steve wasn't about to feel guilty. "I think it would. Emma wasn't quite that cooperative."

Jane pushed herself away from Steve and turned to place her hands on the desk, feet splayed, body bent. Ready and willing.

"Can I just request, Mr Thompson, that you fuck my pussy for a few minutes. I feel that might add some lubrication to you. I'm sure you wouldn't want to hurt me."

"Of course," Steve said, shifting behind her. She backed on to him a little, arching her back a little more to present her dripping pussy. He slid straight in with a groan. She was hot and slick inside. Monumentally so. She joined in with his groans as he enjoyed a few ponderous, slow strokes in and out of her. His hands clasped her hips and he watched her head turn occasionally, eyes closed in what sounded like delirium, as her body rocked with his deliberate movements.

One last drive into her, up the hilt, lifting her on to her tiptoes, and Steve gyrated, trying to collect as much of her wetness as he could. He wanted to be in her ass now, her cunt was so hot he was afraid he might end up staying there till he came.

He pulled out and, gently pulling apart her cheeks, levelled his glistening tool at her asshole. The head pressed against her opening and then he pushed gently, sliding in an inch or so. She was holding her breath, waiting for the initial burning to subside, then he felt her relax and slid, ever so slowly, all the way into her. God it felt good. So damn tight after her swilling cunt.

"You OK babe?" Steve asked, forgetting his character momentarily.

"Oh yes Mr Thompson. Be gentle with me, though."

He began a subtle working of her ass, slight movements in and out. It felt like mere centimetres to him but inches to her. Her moans reassured him she was enjoying it, and emboldened him to go at her harder, upping the tempo ever so gradually. When he felt like he was properly fucking her ass and she had loosed up slightly, he leaned over her, hands on the desk either side of hers. She turned to kiss him.

"Ahhhhhh Mr Thompson, you're fucking my ass. It feels so good. I think I might cum."

Steve left one hand on the desk and reached round with his other, pressing between her legs on her clit. Her head returned to a hanging position, muffled moans emanating through her now ragged black hair. Steve began fucking her quicker, trying to rub her clit in the same rhythm.

"No, no... put your fingers inside me," she whispered as she urgently reached underneath her rocking body and guided his hand further down, pushing his fingers towards her other hole. Steve slipped two fingers in and did his best to fuck her while trying to fully appreciate the sensations around his cock.

"Oh Mr Thompson, no one's ever done this to me before..." She subsided into whimpers, each noise escaping in tandem with another thrust into her ass. Steve could feel himself getting close. He buried his face into her hair around her neck, breathing in her scent while his hand, reaching so desperately he was nearly getting cramps, worked furiously between her legs in rhythm with his riding.

"Oh I am going to cum. I am, I am!" she cried out, head throwing suddenly backwards and her body shaking beneath his. He stayed still and enjoyed the feeling of her body shuddering all around him, pressed right up against him, her moans subsiding eventually as her body went limp in its lean against the desk. "Oh Mr Thomspson that was amazing. Ohhhhhh. Did you cum inside me?"

Steve could feel his own orgasm waiting, needing only a tiny bit of encouragement. There must have been some precum deep inside Jane's ass already, he was sure of that, and as he slowly removed his hand from her cunt and she rocked gently beneath him, he knew what he wanted to try.

He moved her shiny waves of hair from her ear and neck, she turned presuming a kiss was required. Their lips briefly locked and he whispered: "Squeeze me. I'm right on the edge. Squeeze me inside you to make me cum." She looked into his eyes as she did it. It felt divine. She tensed her sphincter once, twice, three times and the first shot was out. He groaned, animal like, as he spurted deep into her. She growled back, feeling the cum pouring into her passage from his cock. She kept squeezing and he kept cumming, lacking substance towards the end due to his previous unloading, but the sensations were immense. He felt like his cock was going to explode. His teeth were in her shoulder and he unintentionally made her yelp in pain when the pressure increased along with the tingling in his dick.

They stopped, still for a moment. He kissed her. "Fuck, Jane, that was amazing."

"I thought so too Mr Thompson. And I'll assume I have your agreement on a few things." She was really going for the work roleplay thing, and Steve was getting bored by it. He wondered whether to do his three claps, but decided to slide out of her first and tidy up. His cock slopped out of her, quickly followed by a few dollops of cum. Jane seemed content to let it trickle, a few drips hitting the floor as she put her shirt and skirt back on. "I'll see you in the meeting then." And with that she turned and left the room.

Steve pulled up his trousers and followed her into the bedroom where she was sat removing her make-up. He clapped three times. A pause. She looked at him in the mirror. He was suddenly very worried that things might get weird. But all was well.

"Steve how the fuck did you get me agree to that? Jeez you haven't lost your touch..."