Paul by Karen Blane

Oh by the way red tape first.

Be warned these short stories contain mature content or naughty bits and as such may corrupt you if you’re under 12, 16, 18, 21 or 25 depending where you live thus if they are not suitable for you put them back on the shelf and let them age for a year or two.

They were sort of scribbled for fun. They were first posted on asstr.org. If you’ve paid money for this book just be aware the author has not received any payment. In fact no one has permission to charge money for this book and copyright is retained by the author. Asstr.org accepts donations if you’re feeling rich or even if you’re not.

Luv Karen

Don't you think my new word-processor is cool? I think it is its so cool it even guesses the words before I type them in. Anyway I just had to try it out just to show you how good it is and to show off my new lap top.

Still I'm getting ahead of myself we haven't even been introduced yet have we? I'm Sara, Karen's sister and I live with three other guys, Sally, Megan and Asami in this like really cool house that used to be my Great Aunt Julie's house before she died. You must remember Karen, she got the cat-sitting job. Anyway Dad fixed it up so that I get to live in Great Aunt Julie’s place whilst the estate is settled and I don't have to move out until I finish college. In fact it’s the only reason I got to college in the first place without the house I couldn't have afforded to live and the local colleges just didn't do the sort of courses a girl needs to get on in life. You really must write to your congressman, MP, Senator or someone and demand more local courses in advanced calculus and statistics. I still can't afford to live so that's where the others help out, Sally's mum pays the hydro and water, and she’s always on at us to share a bath or a shower with a friend, I mean to say should parents even know about these things? Needless to say Megan and Sally do it to me all the time but that’s not the point is it? Megan likes to soap my back whilst Sally does my front. I didn’t know you had to have a soapy finger up your bum every day until Megan explained all about personal hygiene to me. Then Sally explained that to be really certain I was thoroughly clean I had to have a soapy finger up my pussy as well. I used to be able to shower in like 10 minutes but sharing with Megan and Sally takes like forever. At least 20 minutes and then I have to be very carefully dried with big fluffy towels afterwards. Megan hasn't much money, but she stretches our food budget and she sews. Great Aunt Julie had cupboards full of material and such, Megan plays with the patterns and when she makes us something it really fits, you know you don't have to turn it up or anything. I have like one free day a week from classes so I temp those days, usually as a receptionist, since Megan ran me up some short skirts with matching thongs I get more jobs and much better pay, finally Asami who wiggles her butt in some sleazy bar or other when the food cupboard gets really bare.

Anyway it all started when Karen’s landlord went shopping at one of the .dot coms that had gone under. Apparently he hired 23 programmers and put a bid in for the office furniture of $501 because he fancied one of the chairs and ended up with everything because his was the highest bid when the auctioneer said no cheques or credit cards. Karen rang me and asked if I still wanted a laptop so I said fine but was there anything for the others. Three days later a huge lorry roles up full of boxes so we dumped them down the basement. ( Don’t you just love the word lorry? Megan came up with it one day in scrabble. Apparently she came across it in her modern history course something about the Second World War and the Brits and Yanks using different words for the same thing, anyway for those Americans who haven’t taken modern history courses it’s a sort of truck but more English. You know the drivers drink cups of tea when they are driving.) I unpacked a laptop but it kept asking me for a password and I couldn’t make sense of all the other bits.

So Monday I went into the office. It’s a book publisher and it’s been building its own database to feed the big web sites databases. Paul does that. He talks the strange computer language you know the PMON and SMON thing. Anyway some days he spends all day and night worshipping the stupid thing. The other girls in the office told me that he just isn’t interested in anything female, and they had tried. I saw them try as well. OhMyGod I blush when I think about it. Taking their bras off in the wash room and then leaning forward to ask him if he’d like a coffee. Or if he’d like some milk in his coffee wiggling their chests, adjusting their garter belts and stockings when they thought he was coming. Stockings! I mean who wears stockings these days? Invites to lunch, coffee, slumber parties, I mean poor guy, the only male under 50 in an office of unmarried girls and the questions they asked the guy. I mean to say no subtlety at all.

Monday morning Paul has been in all weekend doing his thing when he sees me he asks me to look through his logic with him. He’s so cute when he does that, I can usually spot the error pretty quickly but I usually ask him to explain the bit with the error to me so I can follow it and he finds it himself a few minutes later. Karen taught me to do that, apparently it makes them feel better if they spot it themselves. Anyway he curls up on his sleeping mat under my desk and goes to sleep. It’s a normal sort of morning, I change out of the jeans I came in into a flared short skirt and slip into stockings and garter belt about 9:15, with an ivory thong panty. Megan had found a tiny scrap of Honiton lace on a roller in Aunt Julie’s house, she showed me how it was made just to finish it off. OhMyGod the amount of work in it flipping the bobbins just to finish it off, it takes ages to make an inch of that stuff. So anyway I flash my hand made lacy ivory panties at Mr. Wilkins when he arrives at 9:30, oops politically incorrect, Dave somehow I prefer to call him Mr. Wilkins. You know the really nice thing about having dark pubic hair is the way the pattern shows up with lace panties’ any way after flashing Dave I go and do some filing in his office. You know I had to rearrange the files so that most get put in the bottom drawer first then moved to the correct drawer later. Mr. Wilkins is so sweet he asks for me specially and pays me thrice the normal rate. Then I go back to the reception desk. I’ve been discreetly and subtlety working on Paul for weeks now. I fantasize about him asking me out in a month or two, a white wedding…. That bastard still hasn’t proposed yet never mind asked me out. Paul stirs below so I follow mummy’s advice for how to treat bastards but only nudge rather than kick him in the balls with my big toe. He stretches slightly and takes my other big toe in his mouth. He’s done it before, I melt perhaps three bridesmaids… and still have to answer the phone. “Mrs. Wilkins I’m sorry he’s tied up in a meeting at the moment would you like me to take a message?” He’s actually tied up by Sandra and Beth. They haven’t a brain between the two of them so have to fuck Dave stupid to keep their jobs. Sandra’s fun, blonde when she remembers to get her hair dyed, with the sort of breasts that appeal to American men’s mother fixation. Beth thinks it’s really cool to be a red head, I just have to remain her when her blonde roots show. Dave adores being tied up but apparently his wife doesn’t understand him and I think it’s great cause he needs me to come in one day a week and sort everything out.

Anyway one of the buyers from one of the big web sites comes in. Paul is caressing my ankle as well as licking my big toe through my stockings. “Mr. Rump to see Mr. Wilkins, I’ve come to offer him a better place on our search engine list when it selects books for our readers.” He barked. Since they are one of our largest customers I flip the switch to announce his arrival on Mr. Wilkins’s speakerphone and decide to put him in the boardroom with a cup of coffee. I lift Paul’s hands from my thigh and stand up smoothing my skirt down. I ask Mr. Grump to follow me into the boardroom and feel his eyes following every swish of my skirt, so I break into the Asami special wiggle walk. Asami taught me one of her routines for walking through the sleazy club and making sure everyone’s eyes were on her butt and not anyone else’s. Its kinda fun the aim is to swirl your hemline so that it promises a glimpse of something at any second but not actually show any thing. It’s actually a lot harder than it looks but great fun.

I sit him down in a comfortable leather chair and pop a video in the projector to keep him quiet. “Mr. Wilkins will be free in a moment or two, I’ll just put on a new line we were thinking of publishing about the winter Olympics”. It’s a special one that starts with series of views of the Alps and goes on to describe some of the Olympic winter sports, it starts off innocent enough but then goes onto show some of the athletics competing in their own version of bedroom sports after the official games. I popped in to the office and dragged Sandra off Mr. Wilkins. “It’s not fair, Beth got to have an orgasm with his penis inside her why can’t I have one too?” she pouted. I unbuttoned Sandra’s blouse another button, patted her on her fanny and sent her directly in her aroused state to ask Mr. Grump just how he wanted his coffee. Then I made it just the way that was on his personal contact information on the computer, that’s where I found out about his fixation with Sandra’s chest, and gave it to Sandra to take back in together with her mug. Paul brought her special one at one of his conventions, it has “Blonde Sandra’s Mug” on one side and “Please Speak Slowly” on the other. She is so sweet, she still hasn’t got it yet but it’s a present from Paul so she is very proud of it and uses it all the time. Actually she lives with her mother and Beth swears that one night the two were going out when her mother cautioned her from the front door “Now don’t forget if you're not in bed by midnight, come home dear.”

I button up Mr. Wilkins shirt and tie his tie for him, pick up a steno pad and walk him to the conference room door. I check my watch, should be on an innocent bit now and we walk in. I turn the projector off and sit down opposite Mr. Grump who is looking decidedly warm.

Mr. Rump wants another 10% discount for arranging our books to be a bit higher on their recommended list. They already get the highest discount, 45%, that we give any one. Mr. Wilkins looks like he is going to give in when I cross my legs and give Mr. Rump a flash of panty. “3.5% on the Westerns 3% on the Romance and Sandra can discuss the details with you over lunch?” I counter, Mr. Wilkins looks at me askance. “7%” counters Mr. Rump. Sandra wanders in, in response to my text message. “Mr. Rump is feeling a trifle peckish, would you mind very much taking him out to lunch? I’ll arrange a car for twenty minutes time? Now were we? 2% was the figure we agreed on wasn’t it?” Mr. Grump nodded in agreement and I hustled Mr. Wilkins outside. “I do the books remember? We couldn’t afford 10%.” “If only we could sell directly to our public and omit the web books sellers.” Paul put up his head over the edge of the desk, “No problem Dave, just buy me a few computers and we’ll set up Sara’s Book Store with just our own books at 15% off list price and make a bomb.”

I called Asami could she arrange with Trish to impress and record the event? First the club’s limo to come and pick up Sandra and grump, Beth and the other girls went down the elevator with Sandra and Mr. Rump to inspect the limo and see if it was as long and had as many seats as their graduation night ones. The amount of time they spend bragging about their graduation limos it’s like so who cares? I mean mine was 60 feet long, had seats for 85 people and flexed in the middle. Paul was standing next to the office door still talking to Dave about if only he brought Paul another five Proliants Sara’s book store could open in a week’s time. I still not sure what they are but apparently they like to hunt in packs, sorry live in racks.

I wondered off since everyone was ignoring me. I picked up my handbag and was looking inside in case Megan had made me a sandwich or some such, she does these really cool things with bread and when she does I just give her my lunch money. I suddenly heard what sounded like a road hammer drill, but we were on the 13th floor? The door burst open and three teens dashed in. Dave and Paul had guns held against their heads. “Fuck Off PIG!!”. I still feel shaken and very sad about what happened next. That was Paul they were holding, my Paul and he hadn’t even asked me out yet. No way was this going to happen. Dave asked them to put the guns down and got a “Fuck You!!” for his trouble. I quietly eased the Glock from my bag and slid in the magazine. Then I was on the range, pace it at 10 shots in 5 seconds, the hostage range, the difficult one, head shots only partially screened by hostages, two shots in the center target, two in the far, then two in the near. God the Glock is much louder without ear defenders.

I held the gun covering the center target and asked Paul and Dave to step aside and then come behind me. You don’t think of them as people just targets.

After a few seconds a hesitant “Hello, Police Here” came from outside. I called out we were going to open the door slowly and motioned to Paul to do so. The gun came in first, followed by a uniformed policeman who looked down at the three bodies on the floor. “I’m sorry but I think they’re dead.” I lowered the gun and took the magazine out and emptied the chamber putting the gun on the table in front of me. I looked at Paul, “Just hold me” and broke into tears.

Mean while Sandra was arriving at the Blue lagoon. Jean-Pierre, the chef at the club, had started his own five star restaurant up a couple of times but had gone bankrupt when times were hard. So these days he was a bit depressed but did the food at the club and occasionally indulged himself in his dreams, especially when it was quiet. At Trish’s words the pristine white table cloth came out, glasses were polished and the silverware placed in position, certainment Jean-Pierre could prepare lunch for two people, two people huh, he would prepare the lunch for a dozen! Since it was Monday lunch time the club was very quiet, in fact none of the dancers had turned up so Trish called up Jennifer, one of the local modern dance students to see if she was available and could find anyone else at short notice. Next Trish made a couple more phone calls, well if Jean-Pierre was cooking and she was supposed to arrange something to impress they might was well do two or three more tables whilst they were at it. Why not go the whole hog, she quickly changed into a French maid’s outfit complete with cap and white lace ribbons streaming down the back.

Ten minutes later Jennifer rolled up with her boyfriend Henri and Patricia. Apparently they were supposed to be rehearsing that afternoon but if Trish didn’t mind they could run through one of their routines and possibly spice it up a little towards the end. Trish had little choice but to agree and the three went off to change into their costumes.

When Sandra and Mr. Rump arrived Trish showed them to their table. “Tits and Ass” she reminded herself, “Tits and Ass”. She brought out a sealed bottle of Tio Pepe bending forward to show her cleavage at its best, “A small glass of dry sherry to start sir?” She looked at Sandra and brought forth a sealed bottle of Bristol Cream, this time making sure to push her ass back towards Mr. Rump, showing her panties below her skirt and petticoats . “Perhaps Madame would care for a sweeter sherry?” Sandra threw hers back in a single gulp. “Not bad but the glasses are a bit small aren’t they. Where are the powder rooms?” Mr. Rump looked a bit unsure and Sandra disappeared to powder her nose. Trish took Mr. Rump’s serviette and placed on his lap pulling a chair up next to his so her leg brushed his. She smoothed the serviette out and left her hand on his thigh as she gently chatted to him to set him at his ease. “Relax the bill is all taken care of, set menu I’m afraid but I’m quite certain Jean-Pierre’s Duck a l’Orange will meet with your full approval. It’s been served to quite a few heads of state when he worked in the embassy in France.” Mr. Grump seemed a bit put out when he found the meal was a set menu but relaxed under Trish’s flattering and gentle caresses.

Meanwhile Jennifer had met Sandra in the wash room assumed she was another dancer and taken a look at her ensemble. “OhMyGod haven’t you got anything to change into?” “No, should I?”. She took her by the hand and dragged her off downstairs. “Come on we’ve barely got time to see Jonathan.”

They entered a plain green door with a discreet brass plaque. “Jonathan’s designs” just three doors down from the Bar and climbed the stairs. “Jonathan love you just simply have to find this poor girl something suitable to wear, something special. She’s simply got to have impact.” Jonathan looked up from his sketches then minced across the floor. “I simply have to fly, anyway it’s on the Blue Lagoon’s tab” and with that she disappeared down the stairs murmuring “I’m late, I’m late”. “Well let’s see, twirl round for me. Yes, yes let me think. Something special, we definitely want to emphasise the front, but long skirt perhaps with a slit. I think you could just about carry a deep red. Step this way now the Blue Lagoon uses halogens let me just put the spots on you, that’s it hold the material against your skin, no try the other, back to the first. Yes…” “Right now just step out of your clothes. All of them let’s start at the skin and work out.” He turned his back and went to a rack at the back. “You can step behind the screen if you want to but I’ve seen it all before. Now if you were a young man that would be quite quite different ducks, I’d be right behind you and the screen of course.” “Now let’s have a better look. Love the nipples, give them a squeeze for me, harden them up a little, dear.” Sandra was a bit confused but if it got her male attention, he was male wasn’t he, still attention was attention as her mother always said, and for attention she was willing to make her nipples stand out. Jonathan walked round inspecting, “A touch of rouge first, a touch of Victoriana? Perhaps, yes, no, maybe, oui, I think you are the chosen one for La Dress!” He put a spot of makeup on her nipples to darken them and then disappeared between two racks and came back with a black corset trimmed with white lace.. “Try this.” The corset pushed her up fronts up and forward leaving her nipples exposed framed with a white lace fringe. He pulled the laces a little tighter until Sandra could hardly breathe. “Yes, Oh yes sweetie I think we have the basics done. Here catch”. He threw over a pair of black Dior seamed stockings. “Heavens above don’t they teach you girls how to treat stockings these days? Much as it goes against my principles to even touch.” He shuddered at the thought then unfolded the stockings and carefully rolled each one up a leg and attached it at the top. Then he took up a black pair of panties that bulged just slightly at the front. The back seemed to be two thongs and slid them up her legs. A rather tall pair of heels followed not too uncomfortable but not the 3 inch heels she would normally wear to work.

Then he came back with La Dress. Dark red velvet with a full length skirt, Sandra thought it was gorgeous. She climbed into it and Jonathon adjusted a bit here and there. She was quite surprised to hear the sound of Velcro as he drew the waist in tighter. She looked at the full length mirror it really did set off her best asserts perfectly. A little low cut perhaps but if you’ve got them flaunt them. As she turned she saw that the slit moved apart just giving a tiny suggestion of a glimpse of stocking top. “Twirl, and back, One of my better efforts I think, Oh Jonathan sweetie you really are so good at this designing but if only I had a man to work on”. Jonathan shook his head and minced once more across to a door at the back of the workroom and lead her down a corridor through another door and she was back once more in the Club, coming out just behind Mr. Rump and who was that sitting far too close to him. She walked over and gave Mr. Rump a kiss on the head.

“You didn’t miss me did you sweetheart?” “Do you like my new dress,” she twirled then sank down opposite, smiling, bending forward to give him the full effect of the new dress. She dismissed Trish with “Is my soup ready yet?” Trish recognized Jonathan’s dream and murmured “Ah La Dress” to her herself as she walked away.

“Welcome to the Blue Lagoon its Monday and today we have something very special for you. A team of dancers from the local dance school who are here to give you their interpretation of the pearl dance and so now a big hand please for our guests today.” The DJ played some 1920’s music and the three dancers commenced. Two dressed in flapper outfits twirling their beads that hung down from their necks in front of them. Sandra relaxed, her mother had warned her that the Blue Lagoon was not the sort of place she should be seen in. But this was so respectable. Real ironed white tablecloth, proper thin crystal ware and a girl could tell it was real silver cutlery from the hallmarks on the back. There were three other tables with tablecloths and dark suited businessmen sat around them.

Trish wandered back with china soup bowls and a soup tureen. She ladled soup in to both bowls and unfortunately turned with the ladle so that a drop landed on La Dress. “Oh I’m sorry let me take care of that for you”. She bent and lifted away part of the dress that covered Sandra’s breasts. “I’ll soon clean it up and we can put it back”. She breezed away leaving Sandra with her hands over her breasts shielding them from Mr. Rump’s very interested gaze. “Now now my dear I think you really should eat your soup up before it gets cold. Don’t worry about showing your breasts I find they are quite the most attractive I’ve ever seen.” Sandra thought for a moment, Oh well whatever. She lowered her hands and started on her soup. She looked down and saw how the top of her dress was just level with her corset. No it must be coincidence. I mean who would construct a dress of velvet that was Velcroed together.

The policeman was very nice. He asked me did I have a permit for the gun. I explained I was only carrying it to meet granddad after work. It was one sport that he and I could share. I’d started shooting a bit better than him on targets so I’d switched to combat rapid fire so I didn’t beat him too often. Grandma said he was easier to live with when we did something together but a bit different. He looked at the three bodies and I explained I was frightened as they had their guns jammed against Dave’s and Paul’s heads and they might shoot Paul. The policeman mentioned that they had just shot his partner of twenty years with their UZIs and if I hadn’t shot them he might have done so anyway. Then he thought again and suggested that we switch barrels since he had the same model and the story would be that he had come in to check on… Did Mr. Wilkins have a car? What was the registration number? Right, he’d come up to check up on the car, parked in the wrong zone, and the kids had burst in once he was there seized Mr. Wilkins and unfortunately he’d had to shoot them.

To simplify matters he thought Paul should just take me home and we simply were never there. The alternative would be a media blitz about a beautiful girl, and there was a danger that some gang member would seek revenge. He did say he was thankful that two were white and only one was black. Mr. Wilkins nodded his agreement and then the policeman called for three ambulances. Apparently he wasn’t allowed to say they were dead that would be done by someone else. I thought he was rather nice, especially calling me beautiful. As we left he was shaking his head saying no one was going to believe he had shot three crazies armed with UZIs especially as each had been shot in exactly the same place with two shots each. “They know my shooting, I’m lucky if I get 5 out of 10 on the target never mind miss a hostage at the same time.” Dave ran downstairs to move his car to a tow away zone. Paul picked up my bag, and put the Glock back in its inner cover. Then he took me downstairs as I was weeping all the time. I noticed his car was comfortable but I still can’t remember much about the trip home.

The three dance students ran through their routine. Behind them the DJ had put a series of images from the 1920s. Jennifer and Patricia managed to lose their dresses and continued to flap in their 1920’s style underwear. Trish thought hard and then inspired by the pearl beads the girls had looped round their necks asked the DJ to announce a bicycle race. Two racing bicycles with drop handle bars and high seats where brought onto the stage and placed on rollers facing away from each other, the small rear wheels touching. Jennifer and Patricia looked at each other. “Now if the contestants would care to mount.” Two butts where thrust high in the air nearly touching as well. Jennifer’s boyfriend looked puzzled and stepped off the stage. Trish whispered in his ear. A huge grin appeared. He put on a false moustache and took up a top hat and remounted. “Ladies and Gentlemen for my next act of disappearance I shall require the assistance of this charming young maid.” “Now my dear what have you today to defeat the Great Senior Henri?” In an aside to the audience “ Yesterday it was pigeon, the day before a rabbit but I remain undefeated and today you my audience will judge whether my disappearing act has succeeded.” Trish held out a silver tray upon which was a long string of pearls. Henri tried to slip them under his hat but they trickled out behind his ear. “Failure!” came the cry from the floor. Henri looked affronted, then he looked around and then with an evil gleam in his eye walked over and behind the two cyclists and rubbed his hands together. He undid the chain of pearls and took one end and held it up to the audience with his left hand. He motioned to Trish to come forward once more, this time there was a pair of scissors on the tray. He put down the string of pearls and pivoted the first bicycle so the seat was towards the audience. The audience could see that the seat had a cut away at the rear so the crotch was fully exposed. He pulled the loose 1920’s style panties away from the girls’ crotch and cut them through with the scissors. Next he started to feed the string of pearls one bead at a time into the exposed pussy. When he had nearly fed half the string in he asked for a volunteer from the audience, and looked directly at Mr. Rump. Mr. Rump was directed to hold the string of pearls whilst Henri turned the other cyclist. He cut away her panties and touched her crotch with his finger and held it up. He shook his head and motioned for the tray once more. This time he took up a small thin vibrator, he turned it on and held it near the microphone so everyone could hear the buzz. Then he caressed the unfilled butt with circular motions, finally he inserted the vibrator. He counted to fifty slowly then removed the vibrator and laid it once more on the tray. He took his finger and once more inserted it, this time it gleamed as he took it out. He took the end of the string of pearls and started to feed it into the exposed glistening vulva. When only a short length was left he pivoted both bicycles until they were back wheel to back wheel once more. Trish picked up the remote control that Jonathan had handed her earlier. She switched it on to the slowest speed and watched Sandra’s face as the slight bulge in her panties took on a life of its own.

He fed a few more pearls into each slit until the string was tight, then motioned to Mr. Rump to just hold the string as it showed as the girls bums touched. He turned to the audience who were by now absolutely silent. “I think you will accept that Henri has once again made the item disappear? Thank you, Thank you” As he took a bow.

“And now for the cycle race.” He produced a stage gun and held it up, there was a small pop and a flag popped out of the end with the word BANG! written on it. The DJ switched the feed to the rear projectors. This time you could see each girls face in close up 6 feet high as they slowly moved their legs in the cycle race. One of the suited businessmen looked up at the DJ and held out five fingers. The DJ nodded and announced over the loud speakers, “Now just to make it interesting for our two student contestants we have a corporate sponsor who just offered a bursary of $500 to the winner”. Another pair of hands at a second table were raised this time with ten fingers. “I’m sorry we now have two bursaries the second is for $1,000 so now the first prize will be $1,000 and the second $500. I would remind you that we can arrange for full tax deductions for any further bursary offers.” He paused and looked hopeful. “There was I hoping to take a modern music course next year. Oh well. By the way folks those racing bicycles have soft gel seats and at the angle those girls are racing at their clitoris will soon be getting all sorts of stimulation.” The girls started to really race now. “Oh we have geared the bikes so they will have to each cycle the equivalent of 5 miles to cross the winning line which you can see at the edge of the stage. Each 100 yards they cycle will draw out another pearl from inside and I’ve been told by a previous contestant they will be very sensitive to each withdrawal. And just to help you cheer your girl on all those on the same side as the winning girl get a token for a free beer and a free lap dance on Friday night.” The room suddenly became a mass of encouraging shouts. This contest was for real.

He pulled up in the drive, came round and opened my door for me. Then he scooped me up and carried me to the door, it felt so nice to have someone strong to protect me. Megan had the door open “Hi Blushing Bride”. Paul tried to explain that it wasn’t like that at all. “Oops sorry it’s just the landlord, drunk again is she? Just put her down on the couch.” I asked him in. As he put me down on the couch his cuff caught and his shirt button came off. “Darn another shirt to be thrown away”. Megan put her head out of the kitchen then stormed across the room. “What throw out a perfectly good shirt for the sake of a button. Take it off and hand it over this instant.” Megan can be a bit bossy at times. I got up whilst Paul took his shirt off and sat down in his lap and ran my fingers through his hair on his chest. We might just have had our heads together when Asami arrived, “OhMyGod a naked man! Hey so how come you started tonight’s orgy without me?” I could murder that girl sometimes. I threatened to double her rent. She stepped round and saw it was I on the couch. “Oops sorry landlord, you weren’t supposed to find out about it”. She turned to Paul “and you must be Paul.” Paul nodded “You’re the only boy Sara even mentions by name and you mustn’t take what I say seriously about the orgy, it was only wishful thinking.” I blushed, Paul blushed a bright pink as well as Asami’s words sank in. Asami sailed off into the kitchen, “What’s cooking tonight something special or is it cat food again?”. “But I like cat food, gooey braised steak and fries is like great. I mean Kitty likes it too don’t you soft paws? We think its great cat food.” Kitty is the sort of cat who lives around Megan whenever she is in the kitchen.

He kept his arm round me and we talked. He asked if I had been shooting long, so I told him just long enough to be tried out for the Olympics squad once. I told him I only did it to keep granddad happy because he didn’t have a grandson. He asked if I hadn’t been afraid of missing. So I told him of course not, and that I could group ten shots rapid fire so they all hit a dime at 20 yards. I tried to reassure him about my shooting by saying I could see nearly six inches between him and Dave to hit the guy behind them and besides neither he or Dave were struggling. He went very quiet for a moment or two. I don’t think he liked to think of me sending two bullets quite so close to him, nor that if he had moved suddenly I might not have missed him. I think he trusts me more now but even I wouldn’t want to go through it again. I still don’t know about whether guns should be allowed though. If the teens hadn’t had guns they would still be alive today. Even now if I hear someone say over my dead body I usually have a little sob.

Megan called grandma and explained a boy had asked me out for a first date tonight so could she explain to Granddad I couldn’t see him tonight. I looked at Megan “Well he hasn’t asked you yet but I’m cooking and he’s staying to dinner so that’s a date right? And it’s a first one right?” Paul turned to me and asked sweetly if he could spend the evening with me so that's how I got my first date with Paul.

Megan and Asami tactfully disappeared and Paul asked me about the laptop. I picked it up from besides the couch and passed it to him. He opened it up and typed in a password, it sprang to life. Apparently lots of people use the same common passwords and Paul just happened to know most of them. Megan put her head round the door and asked if he could find one for her in the basement. On the basement stairs Paul turned to me and kissed me. It was a nice comforting kiss, the second one deepened, the third just went on and on until Paul broke and mentioned the laptop in the basement. I showed him the boxes and his eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store. Words like “Do you know who many Oracle licenses you have here?”, “Hey a real SAN” then a “Hey a whole rack of Proliants”. Megan put her head through the door, “How about a Hey Megan’s lap top?”

When dinner was served I dragged him out of the basement. I think there must be something about men and computers in basements. They disappear and are rarely seen again unless it’s feeding time. Dad’s the same. But I suppose we did have a few and if you are into that sort of thing…

“Wow real home cooking, hey this is great. You know great food, a basement full of computers, my shirt buttons sewn on, when can I move in?” “Well you’ll have to sweet talk the landlady, but as long as you drive me to the supermarket and back I’m not objecting. I think you’ve have to share a bed with someone though we’re a bit short. Now I wonder who has an empty half of a double bed”. Megan asked innocently. Paul turned to me. “On your knees and I want to hear how beautiful I am not how great the food is”. He quite surprised me by quoting poetry to tell me how beautiful I was and would I have him to keep me warm at night? How could a girl resist? Asami insisted I try him out first before giving him an answer. Megan nodded her agreement. I took him by the hand and led him upstairs. We kissed and he undressed me. He kissed my neck, my cheeks, my breasts, his hands roamed freely over my body. I melted and felt sort of incomplete, the only thing I wanted was a desperate urge to have him inside me. I fumbled with his Levis thank god they have zips these days. It must have been awful with buttons. He wriggled out of them and I kicked my panties off. I just left my stockings on. It felt so right so I took hold of his penis and guided it inside me. There was a little discomfort and a bit of blood on the sheets afterwards. But it felt so right to lie there in his arms. When we got up he looked down at the sheets with a look of disbelief on his face. I nodded shyly. “It just sort of never happened, I wasn’t saving myself I just didn’t find the right person until now.” “Know something? I hadn’t either.” I gave him a special big hug. “So will I do?” I kissed him on the nose, “Maybe, I think I’ll have to try you out a couple more times just to be certain you understand and besides I don’t want to be alone tonight, hug me.”

“So did he pass? If not I could always give him a few lessons.” “Or me.” “Or both together if he’s really slow.” “Especially if he’s really slow”. There were times when I regret being a landlady.

On stage two exhausted young ladies were helped off their bikes and went and sat at the business men’s tables to sort out the details of their prizes. Henri looked round there were still no other dancers around. He stepped off the stage and asked Sandra very politely and with style if he might have this dance, who could resist such charm, Sandra certainly couldn’t, and led her up onto the stage. He nodded to the DJ who put on an old Fred Astaire routine. He had two chairs and danced a simple tap dance routine that Sandra followed even though it had been years since she had tap danced. As he whirled her in his arms her dress lost a section here, and a section there, with a little help from Henri of course. The DJ’s voice came over the Tannoy system, and “And now here we have something very special, the Jonathan’s answer to the dance of the seven veils, the dance of La Dress.” Sandra’s thoughts were “Oh well whatever, the attention is something quite, quite special.” Soon Sandra was dancing in just her corset and stockings. Henri moved, reversing his chair so the chair was facing away from the audience. Using the back as a support he danced sticking his derrière out behind. Sandra followed, giving the audience a clear view of her exposed slit through her crotchless panties. Henri reversed his chair and danced facing the audience, Sandra followed suit. Jennifer wasn’t terribly impressed seeing her Henri dancing with another, especially after she had worked so hard to gain the $1,000 bursary. She got up and walked to the back of the stage behind the two dancers, over to their box of stage props and pulled out a strap on dildo. She attached it and wiped it with a few drops of lubricant. Then she looked to the audience and motioned, thumbs up meant in it plunged, thumbs down meant no. Sandra was happy to see such an enthusiastic audience all giving her the thumbs up. She didn’t notice Jennifer approach from behind, just the feeling of being entered. She held onto the chair firmly as Jennifer switched on the vibrating phallus.

I never did see Sandra again, I understand from Asami that she has signed up with the modern dance school and works part time at the Blue Lagoon. Asami says she’s a natural and is thinking of doing some films with Jennifer and Henri.

Paul, well he moved in. Since publishers have an agreement with the bookstores not to sell direct Sara’s book store is 51% owned by Paul and I and the rest by Dave’s wife. However we pay the publishers a fee to pack the books up and dispatch them directly so Dave’s happy. Oh Mr. Grump, we had another conversation with me playing the DVD Trish recorded at the Club. I especially liked the bit where he held the string of pearls between the two girls. Anyway he doesn’t chase us for another 5% anymore but has become quite useful in getting immediate feedback on what is selling so we can change the production schedules to better suit sales. Additionally Paul has the basement set up to offer a Web Hosting service with its own OC3 connection, it has its own micro turbine so we are immune to power cuts and in fact the hydro works out cheaper than we paid before.

And finally besides everything else Megan has her own laptop now.