Standing erect at the coffee point, not simply standing up straight but with his penis engorged, decently under his clothing of course, Jim thought back, his mind wondering and remembering. Not at all the right thing to do given Sophie was standing right in front of him and talking. The thought in his mind, rather than replying, was of having his cock between her lips then, perhaps, in her vagina -- he could vividly remember just how warm and wet it had been -- and then back between her lips. The thought of his cock all freshly wet from her being sucked -- the idea of Sophie tasting herself on his penis. The thought...
"Sorry, what did you say?" Jim had quite missed what Sophie was saying.
"I was saying, could I come again, visit Mr. Crowfoot again? Such a delightful old boy. Charming, old school and so interesting. I liked his house, though for the life of me, I can't remember a thing how his study looked. I can remember the other rooms. Did it have a fireplace and a big old desk? I just can't remember. Have you been upstairs? Is that as nice as the ground floor?"
Sophie suggested the Saturday and Jim went across the road that very evening to see if that would suit Mr Crowfoot. He was surprised to find the old man no longer in his wheelchair. That sat on its own in the hall.
"No more visits from Nurse Evans, alas," Mr Crowfoot had said, "But so good to be free of the plaster. I now have to restore the strength in my limb." The old man was hobbling a bit, leaning on a walking stick but up and about. It was only when he sat down did Jim see just what the head of the stick was, previously it had been hidden in the palm of his hand.
"Where... where did you get THAT?"
Mr Crowfoot smiled. "My father's, he found it somewhere abroad. Impressive eh?"
"You don't go out and about with that surely?"
"I'm not going out yet, but I have in the past. You see nothing until the hand is removed -- see?" Again he clasped the stick in his hand and it was, indeed, not at all clear to the casual observer just what Mr Crowfoot was clasping but once you knew it was then very obvious the carving below the hand was of a remarkably long erect penis, it even had a slight bend along its length! With the knob of the carved penis in the ball of the hand the carving was not obvious -- or not so obvious. The sinuous veins might just have been natural to the wood; at least until you knew what it actually was, that is.
"I wonder how many young women have experienced it. Certainly, I have wielded it to good effect many times. Would you perhaps like to try it on your Sophie? Poke her with it? Or perhaps watch her use it. It is rather enjoyable watching a woman use a dildo."
And so, Jim found himself escorting Sophie across the road once more. A very excited Jim knowing what would almost certainly happen. Sophie so unaware as she talked away at what was about to occur -- unaware of what would happen, what had happened before and, would then have no real recollection of what had occurred inside Mr Crowfoot's special room.
Sophie was more than delighted to find they were met at the door by Mr Crowfoot. She even kissed the old man on the cheek which was more than she had ever done to Jim. He noted just what walking stick the old man was leaning upon. Jim frowned, Mr Crowfoot would have to be careful not to put that down in Sophie's sight unless, of course, it was in that room at the back with the desk and the Chesterfield.
Again, they sat in the front room whilst Jim made the tea. The old man perhaps a little unsteady on his feet. When he returned with the tea tray they were sitting on a sofa, Sophie to the left, Mr Crowfoot to the right. Having poured the tea Jim sat in an armchair opposite. Cup in hand his eyes kept returning to the walking stick set down by Mr Crowfoot to the side of the sofa. He could see it in all its masculine strength. What if Sophie stood up and saw it? What would she think? It seemed a strange risk on Mr Crowfoot's part. Perhaps an element of danger excited him, or was it done as a challenge to Jim or to show just how confident Mr Crowfoot was in the strange power of the room, the study across the hallway?
Sophie was talking of her own modest flat. Jim's eyes moved from the walking stick to look at her bare knees as she sat with them carefully together under her skirt. In not many minutes he might be parting those knees and looking in detail what was between them. He felt his penis rising as he commented on his own rather basic flat situated opposite Mr Crowfoot's fine house.
Another cup poured, the conversation flowing to literature. Jim smiled when Mr Crowfoot offered to lend a particular book to Sophie. His words, 'I have a copy in the study,' having an especial significance that Jim did not at all miss. It was an invitation, a reason for Sophie to go into the back room.
"Come, let us go and find it."
Jim leapt to help Sophie stand, anxious she should not see Mr Crowfoot fumbling for his walking stick. Mr Crowfoot though, then took her arm and hobbled with her out across the hall and into the study with Jim following, his eyes on her bottom. He turned and closed the study door behind him and when he turned again Mr Crowfoot was already at the bookcase looking for the volume. He actually handed his stick to Sophie so he could reach two handed. Jim's eyes went wide at seeing the wooden penis shape in Sophie's hand. She was looking at it. Had, perhaps, the study's spell not worked?
"What do you think, Sophie, what do you really think? Does it shock you?" Mr Crowfoot spoke without turning, still seeking the book.
What was Mr Crowfoot up to, Jim wondered.
"It's a... it's an unusual carving. I'm not sure you should go out on the street with it, Mr Crowfoot." Jim watched how she was holding and examining it, how her thumb rubbed up the rather well carved and equally realistic fraenum. It looked well polished from frequent rubbing as if the shape encouraged a certain rubbing or fondling. "Yes, it's not the sort of thing really to show anyone: if it was mine I'd keep it locked away except..."
"Yes?" Mr Crowfoot turned and leant forward a little in expectation.
Sophie smiled her pretty smile, "I might get it out at bedtime."
"Do you use a dildo, Sophie, have you got one?"
"Yes, hidden away in my knicker drawer, in a sock, but not as nice as this one." She was holding it up, turning it around.
Such an interesting piece of intimate information. He would see Sophie the next day, perhaps getting her coffee at the office kitchen, little realising Jim knew what she kept in her knicker drawer. Did she just use it when alone or did her husband wield it as well, perhaps in support of his own penis? But there was to be more intimate matters he would learn about.
"What do you think about, fantasise about when you use your dildo, Sophie?"
