So, what do I do now?
When University ended and they left with Imogen achieving a First that guaranteed she was going on to study Law, and worn out Hymie a third rate degree and a ticket straight into his father's company, I drifted away to various relationships. Eventually I married a woman from the other side of the tracks with no money, no interests, no intellect, and just the best ability to fuck as if it was the only way to exercise. That was until the baby clock started ticking, and then she joined the legions of mothers who forget their spouses and put their lives into the mewling, puking brat in the buggy.
Imogen continued to stay in touch, sometimes making excuses to come see me. She'd join my wife in sado-masochistic games; always ending up whipped and striped from those full breasts to the souls of her feet. Karen, my then wife, would lie in front of her, her shaven cunt open, receiving the administrations of Imogen's wonderfully long tongue that lathed across her swollen labia and down to
her anus. She loved to humiliate Imogen, lifting her knees to her equally full breasts to make her other hole as open to our friend as possible.
"Yes, lick my arsehole, lick it, whore!"
With those words what could I do but 'punish' Imogen for being such a perverted woman? I would increase the power of my strokes, my cock standing hard to my belly as I took pleasure in the growing matrix of red stripes that rose like scars over that firm, smooth landscape.
But why do I mention this, apart from feeling the instant hardness grow in my pants as I recall it? Well, Imogen had continued to provide all my legal advice over the years, always in exchange for me providing services in kind that only the Marquis de Sade could rival. I also gave consultancy services to their Company, especially after the Father-in Law died and her husband took over the business. Imogen insisted I be paid at the top rate in the market. Hymie never batted an eyelid at my charges, always seeming pleased that I had served (or was it serviced?) his wife so well; probably because in the weekends she came to stay, he got a rest from her endless demands to fuck. However, Hymie had died a few months ago, not surprisingly in bed during one of their ritual morning sessions. Yes, The Wife of Bath had a killer cunt! She'd rung me sounding genuinely distressed the morning it happened, though once his body was cold she was in my office displaying some very inappropriate behavior for such a recent widow. She'd left his grieving mother to sort out the funeral arrangements and 'had to get out, because the bitch is being such a pain, darling.'
A few weeks later Hymie's will was read out and she had been left the Company in its entirety and a lump sum of £10m from his private funds. That was on top of the five houses, the yacht in Monaco and the chateau they had begun to renovate in the South of France. She asked me to do a review of the business and consult her on what was best to do with the houses and businesses. Of course she added her own brand of bonus payments, and the Chateau D'Or near Beziers, which took on a whole new building plan on my direction, became our favorite place for me to collect.
Now I needed her consultancy and help to develop a very special contract for me. We arranged to meet the very next day.
When University ended and they left with Imogen achieving a First that guaranteed she was going on to study Law, and worn out Hymie a third rate degree and a ticket straight into his father's company, I drifted away to various relationships. Eventually I married a woman from the other side of the tracks with no money, no interests, no intellect, and just the best ability to fuck as if it was the only way to exercise. That was until the baby clock started ticking, and then she joined the legions of mothers who forget their spouses and put their lives into the mewling, puking brat in the buggy.
Imogen continued to stay in touch, sometimes making excuses to come see me. She'd join my wife in sado-masochistic games; always ending up whipped and striped from those full breasts to the souls of her feet. Karen, my then wife, would lie in front of her, her shaven cunt open, receiving the administrations of Imogen's wonderfully long tongue that lathed across her swollen labia and down to
her anus. She loved to humiliate Imogen, lifting her knees to her equally full breasts to make her other hole as open to our friend as possible.
"Yes, lick my arsehole, lick it, whore!"
With those words what could I do but 'punish' Imogen for being such a perverted woman? I would increase the power of my strokes, my cock standing hard to my belly as I took pleasure in the growing matrix of red stripes that rose like scars over that firm, smooth landscape.
But why do I mention this, apart from feeling the instant hardness grow in my pants as I recall it? Well, Imogen had continued to provide all my legal advice over the years, always in exchange for me providing services in kind that only the Marquis de Sade could rival. I also gave consultancy services to their Company, especially after the Father-in Law died and her husband took over the business. Imogen insisted I be paid at the top rate in the market. Hymie never batted an eyelid at my charges, always seeming pleased that I had served (or was it serviced?) his wife so well; probably because in the weekends she came to stay, he got a rest from her endless demands to fuck. However, Hymie had died a few months ago, not surprisingly in bed during one of their ritual morning sessions. Yes, The Wife of Bath had a killer cunt! She'd rung me sounding genuinely distressed the morning it happened, though once his body was cold she was in my office displaying some very inappropriate behavior for such a recent widow. She'd left his grieving mother to sort out the funeral arrangements and 'had to get out, because the bitch is being such a pain, darling.'
A few weeks later Hymie's will was read out and she had been left the Company in its entirety and a lump sum of £10m from his private funds. That was on top of the five houses, the yacht in Monaco and the chateau they had begun to renovate in the South of France. She asked me to do a review of the business and consult her on what was best to do with the houses and businesses. Of course she added her own brand of bonus payments, and the Chateau D'Or near Beziers, which took on a whole new building plan on my direction, became our favorite place for me to collect.
Now I needed her consultancy and help to develop a very special contract for me. We arranged to meet the very next day.
