Chapter 2

When I wake up at about 6 am, I know two things: this couch is not good for sleeping and my dick is painfully hard. I stand up and look at her snoring lightly on the bed. The room smells of her. My dick is comically poking out through the fly in my boxers. I walk over to the bed and look at her. She is on her back and looks like a survivor of a fast and furious fucking. The bra is wrapped around one arm. The panties are as I left them: twisted into a thin thong that disappears into her pussy. The dress is bunched around her waist and looks to be still wet from her juices. The only problem is there was no fucking ... at least not with my dick. She reveled on my tongue and had her ass attended by my fingers. But she passed out and the towel that I used to collect my cum is thrown in a frustrated heap in the corner.

I could fuck her now. She's not drunk and as soon as I touch her she won't be asleep. I think about it, while I slowly stroke my prick. Laying on her back as she is, her breasts are flattened some by gravity, but they're still firm and tight. The nipples, which I hadn't even bothered to look at in last night's fever, are pink and quiet now. As she breathes, they move slightly. My gaze drifts across her abdomen to the patch of tawny hair that covers her mound. This morning it is a tangled, matted jungle. Her pussy, where I had spent so much time with my mouth, is partially exposed as one leg is bent at the knee and over to the side.

God! What a body. I wonder if she is naturally honey colored all over -- there are no tan lines. And it is a body that she knows how to enjoy. Stretching the laws of nature -- and my foreskin -- my prick gets even harder as I remember her promise: "Do me ... You can have anything you want. Just do me." Well I did, all right. It wasn't for the promise though: if she had resisted, I might have tied her down and licked her to abstraction anyway. Her pussy was wonderful. It was alive. It calls to me now: "Fuck me now ... I'll like it ... I promised you."

Hold it. Last night she was so different from her normal self. She certainly was drunk, and though I'm not a "gentleman," I also know that she would have promised anything to get off last night. If we had done it last night ... well, last night was last night. She may feel differently this morning -- and I want to deal with her sober, not in heat. Sigh.

I take a quiet shower and get dressed for the day. I put the cum soaked suit I wore into a plastic bag and leave it outside the door for the cleaner. Dropping the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the knob, I leave for breakfast and a walk. "Do me ... You can have anything." The words haunt me. I walk past the XXXX theater where she grabbed my dick. Her smell comes back to me. At the office building, I head toward the meeting room.

Today is the day for lawyers. I spend the morning with them and don't know if or when she arrives. At 11.30, we break for lunch and I go to her office. She is there, beating on her keyboard. I knock and walk in. Her face freezes and she looks down at the desk. I walk to the desk. "Good morning Annie."

She hisses in an undertone, her voice as hard and flat as her mask-face. "She ... she doesn't come into the office. My name is Catherine, as you know. Annie is never in this place." She meets my confused stare. Her eyes are on fire. She looks away. The wall clock ticks loudly in the silence. With a calm, quiet business voice, she asks, "How did it go with the lawyers?"

My mind is turning inside out. Is she a multiple personality? Is she nuts? Am I nuts? "The lawyers ... uh ... fine. We'll be done by two." I walk around the side of the desk and stand in her line of sight. "But ... last night ... I mean ... uh..."

"Don't worry." The quiet, cold voice is back. "I remember everything, and I remember my promise. Anything." She looks at me, now with pleading in her eyes. "Just not here and not now. That has to be separate from this." She waves at the room. "I am Catherine here ... SHE is never here." She turns back to her PC, all business again. "Please excuse me. I've got too much to do. I won't even be able to break for lunch."

I wander out of the office and down the hall. Now what? Until last night, she hadn't been available for lunch or dinner. It seems that she thought I wanted to have lunch with her. Hell. I wanted her for lunch. And what is this "I am Catherine" business? Yes, her name is Catherine-Anastasia. Last night Annie was an orgasmic dervish, rotating on my tongue. Today, Annie doesn't exist. But she did remember. My prick jumped to attention. What could "anything" mean to her? Anything-anything or just anything? Did I want to push this? How far could I push? It seemed like she could separate what Annie did from what Catherine did. If I took her again - sober this time - what would it mean to the deal? I was sure that "anything" would NEVER be transferable to business ... and I didn't want it to.

Well, "never up, never in" isn't only a golf saying. My mind is in a fever as I walk down the sunny street. I look around and see only beautiful women. I have x-ray eyes today: I can see their breasts under the t-shirts and blouses. I know how hard their nipples get when I will suck them. I can tell the natural blonds from the bottle-blonds. I can see the pubic mounds quiver in anticipation as they feel my hard prick dance between their legs. I find that I am standing in front of the theater where she dragged me last night: "Box Lunch" is still playing. I turn and see the novelty shop next door and go in.

The books are not of interest. Nothing I could read would match what Annie was last night. What can I do to send Catherine to her cave and let Annie come out and what would I have to do to see the creature again? I look at the rubber cocks. No thanks. If she's interested in a cock, the first one I'm going to suggest is mine. I browse around some more ... Pictures ... Other toys ... I make my purchase, avoiding the eyes of the unshaven clerk. It's heavy in my jacket pocket. On the way back to the office, I stop in a jewelry store and get a box.

I stop back in her office. She's not there and I leave a note: "OK for dinner at 6? RSVP, regrets only. I'm with the lawyers." I can hardly think. My prick is hard all afternoon thinking about "anything." Thankfully, my lawyer doesn't need me too much and my mind is with Annie. The nipples no longer quiet as they were when she slept -- now hard and excited. I can feel the power of her thighs clamped around my head as she came and came. "Do me ... Do me." I hear it. Plaintive. Quiet. Exhausted. Orgasmic... "Do me ... Do me." Oh yes, definately orgasmic. The taste of her is easy to recall: sweet, slick, fragrant, hot with her essence.

At 6, I am in the restaurant in my hotel. I write a note and put it in the box. She arrives. She has been home and changed clothes. The muted blue skirt ends just below the knee. She is wearing a very frilly white silk blouse, through which I can see the suggestion of a lacy undergarment. A long loop of pearls hangs between her breasts. She smiles when she sees me. She waves and walks quietly through the dining room. She sits down and begins. "I'm sorry about last night. I ... well, I passed out. I drank too much and champagne does that to me." She's talking fast and low, eyes averted. "I know what you did for me. I really needed that. You see, he didn't ... I mean, with him I didn't ... well at least for a long time. And then he left and I..."

"Wait." I interrupt. "You don't have to apologize. Or explain. It's OK." I am working hard to sound confident -- it's hard to fake confidence. "I just need to know where you want to take it from here. And you have to explain about Annie and Catherine."

"Oh. That's easy." She ignores the first part of my request. "When I was a teenager, everyone called me Catherine. I went to Catholic school. I hated it. Well when I was in college I met a boy and he called me Annie. He was my first. He was wonderful and warm and gentle and very excited. I was in love. Annie is who I really am, and Catherine has that job."

I pick up her hand and turn it over. Looking at her fingertips, I ask, "Who was that incredible creature I was with last night? I already know Catherine. I'm going to get to know Annie, but that creature ... does she come out of a champagne bottle?"

"No, that's me too ... I guess." She smiles quickly at me and lookes away. I can see the red flush into her face. "That's mostly why I'm here ... I promised. Anything. Maybe the creature ... but it was me, too."

"Annie, look at me. I can't hold you to that promise. I know the circumstances, and it wouldn't be fair." I'm trying to be sincere, but my heart is doing about 200. I want her. I want the "anything." But I can't ... won't ... take it. It has to be given.

"Well, sir," a brave smile, she meets my eyes. "I'm sober now. And fair is fair. I said it and I'll do it." I shook my head ... not this way. "Please," a very, very small, quiet voice. I feel her whisper in my manhood. "Please. I want to ... I want you to have this." Testosterone surges in my blood. My dick is so hard, I could cut diamonds with it. My mouth is dry.

I put her hand back down. I remove the box from my pocket. "Please open this and follow the instructions." She looks at the jewelry box, looks up and takes it. The box opens and she reads the note. She stands, takes the box and her purse and goes into the lobby. In five minutes she is back. She is taking small careful steps and sits down.

"I did it," she says. "Is that all?"

"That's all for now. Let's enjoy dinner. Let me see your purse." I open her bag. A pair of red lace panties with black bows is there. "Very pretty." I begin to take them out, on top of the table. She snatches her purse closed and looks around wildly -- no one could have seen. I open the jewelry box. The ben-wa balls are gone. "Well, are you ok?"

"They are distracting."

"Good. I want to distract Annie so the creature can come out and play." I smile and hold her hand, stroking a finger along her palm. I never thought this would happen. SHE DID IT! I know that every little move she makes is sending rumbling waves radiating out from her pussy. Well, it's only fair. I thought about that pussy all day. She can think about it for a while too.

The dinner is fine and we have champagne -- one glass only. No passing out tonight, if you please. After dinner, there is quiet music and I come to her side and ask her to dance. She gives me a look, but agrees. She is walking very carefully. I pull her close and sway gently to the music. She leans her head on my shoulder. I can feel the warmth of her breath on my neck. She breathed exactly on that spot last night "do me ... do me" she had said.

"You're a bastard, you know that?" She's talking in a warm, husky voice. "I feel like they are going to fall out and roll across the floor. I have to keep clenched so the damn balls won't fall out. When I do that, they rub against each other and the walls of my vagina. It's like low intensity electricity ... continuously." As she talks, my prick swells against her. "Ahhh," she coos. "I see I have your attention."

I move my hand down to the small of her back and pull her even closer to me. My leg snakes between hers with each beat of the music. Her legs are pried apart a bit; it makes her a little nervous and unsure. When she clenches her thighs they grip my thigh. I remember the grip of those thighs... "I like this skirt," I tell her. "What are you wearing under it?"

"I had on the red panties ... which are now yours." I smile into her hair. My prick is hard now and rubbing against her with each step. It swells as I realize her words. I had told her to take them off ... it was her idea to give them to me. "And the body suit, which you can probably see through the blouse. It has snaps at the crotch, but I left them open, in keeping with the purpose of your instructions. " The first card had told her to go to the ladies room. The second, to remove her panties and pantyhose if necessary. She was to be exposed under the skirt. It also said that I would check. "And garter belt and stockings, of course."

"Of course? " I whisper.

"Well ... anything might have included a show, and I wanted to be able to show something interesting. Have you thought about what you want ... besides putting the focus of my attention on my sex all night."

"Yes." I am mesmerized. I have no idea what I will say next. It just comes out.

"Yes ... I want to own the creature." She is suddenly quite still.

"What?" A sharp whisper. "I'm not planning on getting married. I hardly know you and..."

"No no no." I break in. "Not married. OWN as in possess. I'm not sure if I can ask that ... it's too much. I'm not sure if you can give it. Hell, I'm not sure that the creature wouldn't consume me if I get it. But I saw that creature last night. She was wonderful. I want all of you -- no matter how many of you there are."

The band clicks into an up-tempo latin number and she breaks away. "Oh no. Nothing that fast." We go back to the table. I guide her to sit next to me, ostensibly so we can watch the dancers. My hand is on her knee and slides up. The transition from silky stockings to golden thigh is a shock. The stocking is smooth, polished. The thigh is hot, moist and electric. My hand glides up to the junction of her legs. I can feel her pubic hair. She opens her knees wider and I slither down to feel the entrance to her vagina. She is wet.

I rub the labia against each other and again with my finger between them. Her knees move again. I reach in and nudge the stainless steel ball. It flips over the other one and I can see the calm leave her face. She's struggling now to keep under control here in the restaurant, the creature close to the surface. I bring my finger out, and I can feel her relax. I can almost hear her think "He's not going to make me cum here. Thank god."

Instead of bringing my hand out, I slide up and strum her clit, just a little. The color rushes to her face, and her hands clutch at the edge of the table. Her knuckles are white. She is close. But not close to a big one. Just one of the little ones -- she had a thousand last night. She can put this one away for now.

I take my hand out, kiss her ear and whisper. "I really want her to come out tonight. Have I gotten the creature's attention?"

She nods and licks her lips. "Now please?" She means to say something else, I'm sure, but this whimpered out.

"No, no, dear creature," I breathe into her ear. "That was last night. Tonight you will serve and wait." Another whimper escapes her. "Let's go." She nods.

I sign the bill and head for the elevators. I know what she is thinking. "Good. We'll go up to his room and we'll fuck." Not yet, dear creature. We head for the penthouse elevator. She's surprised and I remind her of the rotating bar with a view of the city. "Oh ... Right ... It's romantic up there."