Irresistible 10

I was running early for work so I was just strolling along, taking my time. I don't usually have extra time so this leisurely amble was quite pleasant. I stopped for a few moments to watch some buskers and there was this old guy with a little table near them. At first I thought he was with them but then I realised he wasn't but was flogging something. Or trying to.

I wandered over to see what he had on sale and was surprised to find little vials of perfume. They had some strange names on them, too. Lust, Wealth, Happiness, Irresistible. Strange names.

"You seem the sort of young lady who would like something like this," he told me, picking up the bottle marked Irresistible and offering it to me.

I took it rather suspiciously and he laughed.

"Try it," he said. "Just open it and take a sniff and see what you think."

So I opened the little vial and took a whiff and wow, it was quite remarkable. A scent of roses, with a dash of something else. I really liked it.

"Ah, how much?" I asked him and was surprised to find it was only ten dollars.

"That's not much," I pointed out.

"There's not much perfume, either," he told me. "It will only last a few uses. If you like it I have a repeat customer. I do all right."

I continued on my way to work, a little vial of Irresistible in my bag. When I got to work I couldn't resist putting some on. I don't normally wear perfume at work but who was going to object to the scent of roses?

I settled down and got to work. I didn't expect my boss to be in for another hour and I wanted everything outstanding caught up with before he got in. I'd already checked his calendar for the day and he had a really light day planned. With a bit of luck I might even be able to go early and I intended to hit the beach if that happened.

I pushed one folder to the side of the desk. Apparently I pushed a little too hard and it slid over the desk and over the side, falling down between the desk and the wall. The desk is rather close to the wall and I couldn't walk around that side of it. Also the drawers were on that side so I couldn't reach under the desk to get at the folder.

Peering down the narrow space I thought I might just be able to reach it if I really stretched. I finished up standing on one foot, the other foot waving in the air, while I stretched my arm down, flailing about and trying to connect. No dice.

I changed my tactics a little. Now I was standing on my other foot, my original foot now waving in the air, while my face was jammed into the crack between the desk and the wall so I could see that verdammt folder which was still out of reach. No worries. I grabbed a ruler and started edging the folder towards the front of the desk.

While I was doing this it had never once occurred to me what things would look like to anyone who came in. The boss wasn't due in and there were no appointments and so I wasn't expecting anyone.

I certainly wasn't expecting a deep voice to start talking to me.

"Nice perfume you have," said this voice. "Roses with a hint of something else. I like it."

Now my normal reaction to this was to shout, "Wow," or something similar and hastily straighten up. Wouldn't you? Well, this time I didn't. Oh, I certainly shouted, "Wow," or something like it but that was it. What I did then was add, "What the fuck?" to what I shouted.

The reason for this second exclamation was twofold. The first part was that there was a hand on my back holding me where I was. The second part was because there was another hand taking hold of the crotch of my panties and drawing them to the side. I assure you, if it had been you in my position, you'd have been shouting, "What the fuck?" as well, and I don't care how nicely you were brought up.

Now my obvious reaction towards someone taking unmentionable liberties with my person was to straighten up, turn around, and rip shreds off them, before jumping up and down on their bleeding remains. I didn't even get past the straighten-up phase, because the owner of that nice deep voice also had a nice big hand and that hand was still resting firmly against my back, holding me in place. To make matters worse the owner of that nice big hand also possessed a nice hard cock, which he was putting to what he probably considered good use. I didn't necessarily agree with what he thought.

Not that that helped me at all. He was pushing slowly into position. I assume he was pushing forward slowly because he'd spent zero time on foreplay and thought his slow approach would help reconcile me to what was happening. He was half right. My pussy was adapting very nicely to this unexpected intrusion. My mental state was not and I was cursing up a blue storm, Mr Big Dick being the focal point of my curses. If wishes came true Mr Big Dick would have come down with terminal syphilis. Instead of that he started picking up the pace.

If a fortune teller had forecast that I'd be bent over my desk, panties brushed aside, getting entertained by an unknown man's erection, I'd have asked for my money back. There was absolutely nothing I could do. His cock just came charging in, retreated, only to charge forward again. I was so hopelessly out of position I couldn't even cooperate with what was happening. (Not that I would have, of course.)

He thumped away right lustily, obviously having the time of his life. Despite the way things had started I couldn't help feeling excitement welling up, his cock being the pump that was priming me. How I could get aroused by this I do not know, but it was happening. I stopped swearing and was going, ah, ah, ah, in time to his thrusts.

I truly couldn't believe it when he increased his stroke at the end and I found myself on the verge of climaxing. Then he gave one push too many and I did fucking climax, feeling him doing the same thing.

He finally disengaged and I had to just lie there for an extra moment to get control of myself. Then I was all action. I managed to straighten up and turn around and there was no-one there. The cowardly swine had bolted as soon as his evil deed was done and I had no idea who it had been.

I headed off to the ladies room to freshen up a little, quietly fuming. Afterwards I walked back to my office, recovered my damn folder, and worked until my Boss arrived.

My Boss finally fronted about eleven. His instructions were short and sweet.

"Cancel any appointments that I have this afternoon. I'm leaving again right away. You can finish up whatever work is outstanding and then take the rest of the day off."

Barely pausing for breath, he went on.

"Margaret had a little boy this morning. I'll be spending the rest of the day with her. I'll see you on Monday. Oh, is there anything urgent that I need to attend to?"

"Three letters on your desk that need your signature. Apart from that nothing that can't wait until Monday. Congratulations."

He rushed into his office and came out a couple of minutes later with the signed letters.

"Right. Thanks, Fiona. Bye."

He took a deep breath and seemed to hesitate.

"Ah, new perfume?" he asked. "Roses and something."

He was giving me an odd look so I spoke quickly, not wanting to find myself with some last minute jobs.

"Margaret and the baby," I said, smiling.

"Right," he said and left quickly.

I quickly finished off the few things I had left and then I also departed. It was a nice day and I'd definitely be at the beach for the afternoon.

Strolling back towards the station I happened to be passing a very nice restaurant. At least, the food was very nice. They had an excellent chef. The waiters were quite nice and willing to please. The only problem was the Head Waiter, Piero. Piero was a supercilious snob. A first class prick who has probably won awards for dickheadedness. He always looks at me as if wondering why he let me past the front door. Really gets my goat at times.

Now the restaurant had only just opened for the lunch crowd and I was hungry so I decided I'd eat now. Why not. I strolled in through the door and asked Piero for a table for one. (Something else that annoys him. One to a table means smaller sales and smaller tips.) He gave me his normal condescending look.

"A table for one," he said with a sniff. The he seemed to pause and I could practically see him sniffing like a bloodhound on a scent.

"For you, Signorina Viona," he started gushing, "this is not a problem. Please, come this way."

His accent is atrocious. I think it's supposed to be Italian but it comes across as ham actor. And my name is Fiona with an F.

To my surprise he led me across the main dining room and into one of the private rooms.

"The main room, she is booked out," he told me. "For you, this room. I vill serve you myself, personally."

Feeling rather stunned I ordered a drink and a meal and Piero bustled away. My drink was on the table in nothing flat, plus fresh bread rolls (warm) and some pats of butter, the butter not frozen hard. I enjoyed my drink and nibbled on a roll and very soon my lunch arrived. Never had I had such fast service.

I had barely finished lunch when Piero was back, wanting to know if I required anything else. I told him that everything was fine, I didn't need anything else apart from the bill. That's when things went decidedly hinky.

"For you, Signorina Viona," he said, "today there is no bill. It is, how do they say, on the house. A small revard for a velcome customer."

I was astounded. Foregoing the price of the meal and the tip? Unheard of, not that I was going to protest. I started to get up from the table and would you believe that Piero actually pulled my seat out? I stood up and turned away from the table and found Piero right in front of me.

"Ah, Signorina Viona, zat pervume. It drives me vild with desire for you."

Well, that was all very well, but there was no need for him to express his wild desire so physically.

He had me pushed back against the table and one hand was pulling my dress up and his other hand was pulling my panties down. I'm like, he's got to be kidding, but found he had already whipped out his old fella and was preparing to put it away.

I was pushing at him, asking what the hell he thought he was doing, which was stupid as his intentions were really standing out. I threatened to scream and that finally got a response from him. His hand came up and plastered itself across my mouth and at the same time I could feel my lips parting, and I don't mean the lips under his hand.

He came surging up into me, jamming me against the table while he thrust happily home. Maybe not all that happily, because I sunk my teeth into his hand. He jerked his hand away but at the same time jerked his cock forward, finishing up all the way inside me.

"Too late to scream now," he said smugly. "I'll just say it's a lover's quarrel. Seeing I'm already in you I think the staff would be ready to believe me. Start humping, Fiona."

He had a point. He'd also lost his blasted accent. He wasn't backward at getting the humping going either, drawing back and then thrusting firmly home again. I know when to draw the line. It was far too late to complain now so I might as well make the best of a bad deal. But really, why me, and why twice in one day? It simply beggared belief.

I'd like to say I made short work of him but it didn't work out that way. Piero just kept going and going, thoroughly enjoying himself at my expense. I swear, if he hadn't heard someone paging him we'd probably still be going. When we heard his name called he just gave me a big smirk.

"Time to go, my love," he said. "Before I leave, a parting gift."

With that his cock seemed to go berserk, bouncing in and out of me at a frantic rate as he rushed to get his rocks off. All very well for him as he had his fun but when he finally withdrew with a satisfied smirk on his face (a smirk I really wanted to slap off him) he just left me high and dry. (High and sticky, actually, but you know what I mean.)

Piero sauntered off to attend to business and I departed after visiting the facilities, feeling slightly disgruntled. Still, I had got a very nice meal, free of charge.

I got to the station and as luck would have it I was right on time to catch a train. It was well and truly off-peak at this time of the day and I was the only person in the carriage when the train departed. I just relaxed on a comfortable seat and tried to work out what the hell had happened that morning.

I'd reached no conclusions when the train pulled up at the first station and some men got on. There was a good half a dozen of them, workmen from the way they were dressed. The tool boxes they were carrying was another clue. I was wondering why they were on a train instead of in a truck somewhere when I spotted the railway badges they were wearing. Probably a crew travelling from station to station to do work, I decided.

Apart from that first casual glance I didn't really take any notice of the men until I realised that the train was under way again and they were all standing around me, looking at me. I was thinking, "What the fuck?" and not liking the look in their eyes, when another man pushed his way past them to stand in front of me.

"Go siddown," he bellowed at them. "I'll take care of this."

There was a bit of grumbling but the men moved off. It was rather apparent that this guy was the man in charge and that they knew it. So, what was the man in charge like? He was enormous, for a start. Six foot six easy, and probably around two fifty pound in weight. Muscle, not fat. He looked as though he could wrestle a gorilla and win two falls out of three. His face was quite nice looking with a friendly smile. The other things that I couldn't help noticing was that his head must have been shaved, his hair was that short, and he was black as the ace of spades.

"Sorry the guys were bothering you, miss," he said, and he had a really nice bass voice, a voice that just gently rumbled as he spoke, like distant thunder.

I just smiled and made some general comment about how I hadn't been bothered and he smiled, tilted his head slightly and seemed to be trying to detect a scent in the air.

"Yeah, that would explain it," he muttered. "Quite a scent."

With that comment he unzipped his trousers and whipped out his erection.

Now I'm pretty much your average woman with your average sense of humour. I've swapped risqué jokes with my friends at times. When it's all girls together some of the jokes we tell would absolutely shock the husbands and boyfriends, especially as men are often the butt of the joke. At times we might even have made jokes about penis sizes and I can distinctly remember a couple of jokes featuring a big black dong. Quite funny they were, too, but never in my wildest dreams had I thought I would encounter one of these. Now I had. This guy had the biggest, blackest, erection I'd ever seen.

"For some reason you just attract us all," he told me. "If I step back I reckon the whole crew will be lining up to play with you. However if I mark you as mine they'll back off. I think you need to work with me here. My name's Clive, by the way."

As if I cared what his name was. I was looking at his erection and then looking over at the rest of the men who were deliberately not looking towards us. Quite frankly I was trying to decide if it would be safer to have the rest of the crew take turns rather than face that monster. Like I was given a chance to decide.

Clive just reached down and grabbed my ankles and lifted my feet straight up. I naturally enough fell flat on my back on the seat. Obviously I should have chosen a single seat in the corner rather than a row of seats. He held both my ankles in one great paw and used the other to pull my panties down. Or up in this case, as my legs were high in the air. Same result though, with my panties lying on the seat next to me and my dress up around my waist.

Now that the playing field was exposed he dumped my legs onto his shoulders while he leant over me, brushing his cock against my pussy, dragging the head of it back and forth along my slit.

I was protesting vigorously by this stage. The other men were laughing and talking amongst themselves, throwing little glances my way. Clive stopped stroking my mound and centred it where he wanted it to go. Then he started pushing.

I threw a complete tantrum as his cock slowly penetrated my poor pussy. I yelled and screamed and swore and hit at him. It was like yelling at and hitting a brick wall, bar the fact that the brick wall would have been softer and without a massive cock. I'll give him this much. He knew he was above average in size and took it nice and slow while he entered me, giving my body ample time to adjust, which I have to admit it did. I could feel him easing his way down my passage and my passage was stretching to admit him and clinging to him after he passed by. And I kept up the screaming and protesting the entire time.

He finally banged home completely and I took a moment to take a deep breath.

"At last," he grumbled. "I thought you'd never shut up. Now how about you keep quiet while I pleasure you?"

Pleasure me? Arrogant pig. I thought I was going to burst a blood vessel with that comment. I clamped my mouth shut. Not another word would I say.

Clive then got down to his work of 'pleasuring' me. It was obvious right from the start that he wasn't going to be in a hurry to do this. He just moved slowly, pushing in and out a little bit. By a little bit I mean that his cock was only moving about an inch or so. I assumed that this was so he could train me to move with him. Wanting to get this over with I started reciprocating, pushing up to meet him as he did his slow thrust.

Not that it helped much. True, his stroke slowly increased in length until he was eventually pulling his cock almost completely out before thrusting back into me. But he was still moving so damned slowly. It was frustrating.

The annoying thing was that there was a station coming up soon. He'd have to finish by then but he was showing no indication of doing so. He kept up his steady movement, apparently just enjoying the feel of his cock rubbing against me. Well, I certainly wasn't going to tell him to hurry up. If he suffered coitus interruptus due to new passengers that was his problem.

The train slowed and stopped and I waited for him to swear and get off me. Instead, I heard the door open and some of the guys tell whoever was there to take another carriage as this one was being repaired. Then the door closed and a few moments later the train set off again.

I must have let a rude word slip because Clive smiled down at me.

"Don't worry," he said. "The guys will keep us private for a while."

Oh, yes. As private as I could be while half a dozen guys were watching as I got thoroughly screwed. I will admit that after that station Clive picked up the pace a little. Thank god he did, too, because I have to admit I was starting to feel a little restless with what he was doing.

It turned out he didn't pick up the pace enough as he was still going when the next station rolled around. His men did their little trick of redirecting passengers and Clive took the stop as an indication he should pick up the pace a little more.

He was going at a much more satisfying pace now and my excitement was building rapidly. If he was reacting the same way then he would have to be just about at the end of his tether. I was willing to admit that he seemed to know what he was doing and that he was going to bring me to a climax.

What he brought me to was another station, followed by another acceleration in his cock-work. I couldn't believe this guy. He now had me hovering on the edge of a climax and somehow or other he was keeping it from me. I wanted to scream but I didn't want him to know he was getting to me.