Lead Me Not Into Temptation!

Hugs all round, and belated Christmas gifts as well, a long, unhurried catch up and then she lugged her cases upstairs to her flat to unpack. (The service elevator has stopped working. Think of movies you’ve seen where there’s a device they sometimes call a ‘dumb waiter’ for moving stuff from floor to floor…it’s like that but a bit bigger. ) 

Dani came back down bright red and sweating…it’s a long haul to her flat, especially with cases. It was clear she meant to get right back to work, but Emily and I had determined that she wouldn’t come back to a shit hole. I’m afraid neither Em nor I are particularly tidy people, and yes, the place did suffer over Christmas, but now it shone! We’d spent two days tidying, washing up and cleaning, so there wasn’t much for her to do. She immediately made us our normal mid-morning coffees and set about dealing with the finer points of housekeeping that make her the special person she is. Oh, and Em and I had also done all the laundry and ironing. We’ve both been rather, er, busy sexually and there were copious amounts of underwear and sheets needing attention. 

While Em and I relaxed knowing we were in good hands, Dani appeared with two screwdrivers and some kind of meter thing. I don’t know what it is but it has red and black leads coming out of it with silver pointers on the end. “I’m going to fix that ‘dumb waiter’” she said “Can’t do without that!” I said we’d call an electrician, but she merely shrugged and said “Save your money.” 

So saying she disappeared. Coffees finished we washed up, and Em went out to her car….she’s off, yet again, for two weeks this time, and I guess it will be like this until her busy period ends in May. I tried to work woo, but there’s nothing really to do other than some fine tuning in the pub. The pub is already a different place. Business, even from the locals, is really good now that we’ve got some decent beers including real ales in stock. It’s true that if you serve the same-old same-old, people get bored. The takings have trebled, and we haven’t even launched food yet. That comes next week. 

I got up from my desk in my den and opened the door…..

…..to be confronted with Dani, lying flat on her back, her feet near her bum and wide apart showing her crotch to perfection. She had her head, shoulders and arms in some kind of service panel I didn’t even know was there. Oh, but that crotch! Yellow panties today then, and visibly moist. I stood rooted to the spot, but every fibre….no….every atom in my body wanted to dive between those legs and worship at the shrine of perfection. I was so….so what…..shocked? Stunned? That my mouth went dry and my tongue clove to the top of my mouth. When I did regain the power of speech I managed only a croaky “Are you ok in there?” 

From within the wall, her voice came back “Yeah….I found the problem. One of the dumb waiter’s sensors has come away from the dry wall and one of the wires has come unattached. That’s why it isn’t working. I’ll be about ten minutes or so.” I asked if she needed anything, but she said “No…I’m fine.” All of which left me standing there, staring at her from the upper tummy down. It just looked like she was lying half in, half out of the wall.

“Go on. You know you want to.” Miss Brain’s soft urging wasn’t helpful to the situation, and neither was my hyper-acute sense of smell. Oh, I’m sure some of what I thought I could detect was imaginary, but what I could see wasn’t. Combined, they were just too much. I slipped my hand up my skirt and into my panties. They were already beyond redemption, and, to be quite honest, I’ve fantasised about rubbing myself off just staring at Dani’s crotch for a while now. This was the ultimate temptation. Only Dani looking st me and saying “Would you like to rub one out staring at my crotch?” would have been worse….or better. 

You know, I actually tried to move my hand away from my dripping sex. No, I really did, but I seemed to have lost the power to activate the ‘moving away’ muscles. From time to time Dani’s body would move a little as she reached for something in the wall. Her knees spread a little more at one point, pulling the material of her panties taught and showing me the full extent of her own wetness. 

I realised, as if I was a separate person to myself, that I was very close to orgasm. Very close indeed. Only when Dani muttered a frustrated “Oh fuck…come here you cunt.” (She has picked up our potty mouths a bit) that I came into my panties, by which time Miss Brain had perfectly recreated exactly how those spring-yellow panties would smell. 

(I discovered the next day that my mental creation was, in fact  spot on. I had found those undies in the utility room and they smelled exactly as predicted…..pure female sex, an under-hint of sweat, and, as usual, the faintest, faintest hint of pee. 

Dani emerged from the hole in the wall, covered in dust and cobwebs and punched the lift call button. I heard the sounds of the thing moving and Dani grinned in satisfaction. “Got the fucker!” 

Yes, you did, Dani, and you’ll never know how close you were to getting yourself licked out and/or fingered too!

When Emily is here, Dani never swears, but I’m afraid I do, and Dani has taken to using profanity when it’s just me and her. What she doesn’t know, or rather, what I think she doesn’t know is just how stimulating I find hearing those words on her lips. 

The phone rang. It’s my chef at my pub. The bar is full and there have been requests for food. Can she start serving today, just to see what happens, and just the bar snack menu? Well, why not. Let’s dip our toe in the water. I explained to Dani what was going on and asked if she’d like to take a walk with me to the pub in the village to see the place.

She agreed and went to get the spiders out of her hair…no, not really, but she was covered in cobwebs. Dressed and coated we walked through the thick snow into the village. From a distance, my pub looks picture-perfect. A soft yellow light emanating from the bubble-glass windows and casting a glow onto the snow which is piled up high on the window ledges and the grass verges. It’s thatched roof is covered in a thick blanket of snow, the thatch only visible near the chimney. My heart warmed at the sight. But it warmed more when Dani slipped and shoved her arms through mine. We completed our journey arm in arm too….which didn’t help the state of my crotch! 

Inside, there was the smell of woodsmoke. I got rid of the hideous log burner in favour of a plain open log burning fire. The place was heaving - and this in January with only the village, or rather, mainly the village for customers. When I took this place over, I almost vomited from the stench of wet beer towels and stale beer. Now it smells of freshly cooked food, and we take as much ale as we can straight from the casks. It took my bar staff a few tries to learn how to tap a cask, and there were some accidents, but now,…yes….now, I think we have something here. In the summer, the garden will be open and I’ve already spoken to the canal boat hire companies around here about our wharf being available. In fact, I noticed a couple of the hirers in the bar. 

I got us a couple of glasses of brandy and we settled in a corner near the fire and simply watched. If felt a warm glow, partly of self satisfaction, but mainly of gratitude. I seem to have a talent for this kind of thing. My dad, bless him, deals in six figure sums as a minimum….I could never do that….but I can, it seems, not just turn mediocre food and drink outlets around, but I can, far more importantly, enthuse the staff, without which no business can flourish. Back home, I have about thirty emails, all from staff scattered across my little empire, and all containing ideas…things they think will work and want to try out. Some have even trialled their ideas at their own expense, knowing I will refund them whether it worked out or not.