Sophias World Pt 01

ONE

It had initially been a source of disappointment to Sophia that her first trip as the new CFO of the Japanese bank for which she worked should be to Frankfurt. As a twelve-year-old, she had been to Germany to visit her aunt, who worked for a charity in Dusseldorf, and all she could remember, besides a camping trip down the Mosel, was the unremitting bleakness of the landscape. And the rain.

When she landed in Frankfurt, she was pleasantly surprised by the mixture of the old and the modern, and her mood was further uplifted by the sight of the driver who had been sent to meet her. Andreas was the very image of the athletic Teuton - quite unlike the German bankers she knew in London, who were pudgy, near-sighted and possessed of an irritating desire to show that Germans did after all have a sense of humour. Her thoughts immediately turned to Bangkok, to the driver who had been put at her service there: one Ananda, who had blown out of the water the stereotype that Asian men were lacking in the weaponry department. Perhaps this towering blond German - he must have been six two - would prove a disappointment when put to the ultimate test, but Sophia hardly thought so. He had the air of a man who packed a punch and who would not be backward in coming forward.

Her reveries on encounters past and challenges present were cut short by Andreas's announcement in good, if heavily accented, English, that they had arrived at her hotel. Sophia waited in the back seat for Andreas to open the door for her, but in the event he was beaten to it by a hotel employee, who took Sophia's hand and helped her negotiate the gap to the pavement, while his colleague dealt with the blonde woman's bags. Andreas walked with the others through the foyer to the reception desk, part of a retinue that received interested glances from the throng in the atrium, whether employee or guest. Aware that she was the centre of attention, Sophia acted with as much grace as she could muster, thanking those around her with an inclination of the head and just the hint of a smile, while accepting a card that the handsome driver extended to her wordlessly, while fixing her with blue eyes that bored into her own and did his speaking for him.

According to the schedule which her hosts had sent her with typical German efficiency and attention to detail, she was expected for lunch at the hotel's main restaurant at one o'clock, which gave her a little more than an hour to settle herself in and maybe wander round the business district of Germany's financial centre, which the hotel was located a stone's throw away from. Putting on a pair of more comfortable shoes, she ventured out for a half-hour stroll, actually walking away from the business district and into a park, which was situated just five minutes from the hotel. Sophia was surprised at the number of retired people who were out jogging, joining the mothers who were enjoying the fitful spring sunshine with their toddlers and office workers taking an early lunch break.

After walking around the duck pond, Sophia returned to the hotel by a different route, zipped up to her room to freshen up and change back into her heels and took the lift down to the first floor, where the Goethe Restaurant was located. The maître d', who was clearly expecting her, led her straight to the table by the window, where her welcoming party were waiting for her. There were five people in total, three of whom Sophia had been scheduled to meet, while the identity of the other two was for the moment a mystery. It was Gunther, the head of the Frankfurt office, who Sophia had met on several occasions, who made the introductions: Michael Gotze, head of corporate banking, and Greta Schwartz, chief legal officer, made up the expected trio, while the others turned out to be clients of the bank. One was a local industrialist, with interests in polymers and plastics, by the name of Oscar, while the other, Dietmar ('call me Didi') headed a large pharmaceutical company. While Oscar was overweight and pushing 60, Didi was svelte and lean and didn't look a day over 40. Automatically, Sophia found herself holding the handshake with Didi appreciably longer than she had with the other four. She noticed that he was wearing a wedding band, but then so was she; it merely added to the frisson of excitement that she felt.

Towards the end of the meal, Sophia took advantage of an intense conversation in German involving the plastics man and the bank staff to get to know Didi a little better. She had more than half an eye on that very evening, since the scheduled dinner had been postponed to the following day owing to the inability of one of the main guests to attend. Didi appeared to be on the same wavelength, since he broached the subject almost immediately.

'My new wife and I would be delighted if you would be able to join us at around ten o'clock to sample some of the local night life. I hope that isn't too late for you.'

Sophia indicated her amenability to the idea without appearing to get too excited by the prospect. The possibilities suggested by the presence of the 'new wife' were particularly appealing. Would she be a goddess in the Claudia Schiffer mould, Sophia wondered, or would she be more of a Brunhilda figure, intent on dominating those around her. Either way, Sophia sensed she might be onto a winner. And she could easily imagine Didi playing the role of Thor with his hammer.

The meeting place - a club only a couple of kilometres from the hotel - was arranged and Sophia assured Didi that she would be able to find her own way there. Since Didi and his 'new wife' had a prior dinner engagement, that left Sophia free to eat with Andreas, whose face and physique she was having a job keeping her mind off.

'God, I hope he's well endowed!' she found herself saying almost out loud. 'I must call him and see if he's free.'

'Of course, he will be. I bet right now he's wanking himself off thinking about me.'

On the pretext of fetching one or two things before she went to the bank's offices with Gunther and the others, Sophia went back to her room and called Andreas. Was that a woman's voice she heard momentarily in the background? And did she just catch the opening of a 'Shush!' before he was able to muffle his phone? What was it to her, anyway? She imagined that the driver had called up an old girlfriend because he was fantasising about the blonde Englishwoman and needed an outlet for his lust. She noted a slight wavering in his voice when he accepted her invitation to dine with her in her room at six o'clock. Unable to resist teasing him, she asked him if that was not perhaps a little early for him? Or perhaps he had other plans for the evening?

Desperately attempting to keep his cool, the Adonis replied that it would be an honour to dine with her, asking if there was anything she would like him to bring.

'Just yourself. That ought to be sufficient, no?' she replied in her minxiest manner.

Although Sophia made all the right noises at the bank, and clearly impressed by being able to remember the names of seemingly everyone she met (for this she owed a debt to her Egyptian co-worker Seth, who had drawn up a crib sheet, which matched the senior Frankfurt staff with his quirky mnemonic system for identifying them), her mind was elsewhere. To be precise, it was alternating between Andreas's thrusting manhood and the 'new wife's' luscious pussy. Somehow, Didi got left out, but then there is only so much you can accommodate in a daydream. Real life, Sophia reflected with a smile, could pack in so much more!

Because the atmosphere at the bank was quite casual compared to what she was used to in London, Sophia decided to dispense with her prepared PowerPoint show when the time came to give her presentation, speaking to the twenty or so staff in an informal way, as she outlined what she was allowed to share of the group's plans for the future. She noticed that the attendees were hanging on her every word - many of them making notes - quite different to what she was used to in England. Also, there wasn't a mobile phone to be seen or heard. As a result of the close attention, she spoke for longer than she usually did, stopping every now and then to invite questions, which would never be long in coming, and which showed a more global grasp of issues than she was used to back home, where self-interest predominated.

When the session finished, they had gone well past their scheduled end time of 5 o'clock, but no one seemed to mind, and Gunther closed the meeting by making some very complimentary remarks about their guest, which elicited a hearty round of applause. Now

that

would

never

happen in cynical London, Sophia thought. Gunther himself dropped Sophia off at her hotel, apologising once more that they were unable to entertain her that evening and expressing the hope that she would find a way to enjoy her evening. Sophia assured him that matters were in hand and bid him adieu until the following morning, when, thankfully, her schedule did not start until 10 o'clock.

It was only a few minutes to six when Sophia popped into the shower. Something told her that Andreas would be fashionably late (as Germans tended to be for social events), so she didn't bother to rush, even washing her hair, though that would delay her further. It was half past six and she had just finished drying her hair, when Andreas knocked on the door. Wearing a white mini dress with white panties and precious little else, Sophia opened the door and let the German giant in. Neither of them was thinking about dinner.

She told him to fix himself a drink, but he said water would be fine for him. Sophia asked him to pour one for her too. While he was at the minibar, she took a good look at him: his biceps were half covered by his T-shirt and half exposed, threatening to tear through the fabric that tried to hold them in. His jeans fitted him snugly too: snugly round his ankles and even more snugly, it appeared, around his groin, where she thought she could clearly make out the outline of his tumescent member when he turned around and started walking towards her. When he offered her a tumbler, rather than sipping from it, she put it down on the table, took his own from his hand and drew him into a kiss. He responded by placing his hands around her waist tightly enough that she thought he was going to hoist her up and carry her to the bed, which was only a few feet behind them. Her hands roved over his chest and across to his biceps, which she rubbed appreciatively.

'Are you big everywhere?' she asked, knowing it wouldn't be the first time he had heard such a question.

Rather than trying to make a humorous comment, he did what he had threatened to do before, lifting Sophia and depositing her gently on the bed, her already modest hemline riding up to reveal her white panties. Making no attempt to cover her modesty, Sophia watched as Andreas took off his T-shirt, followed in short order by his slip-ons and his jeans. His briefs were hardly able to contain his cock, which craved release from its confines at Sophia's hands. Kneeling on the bed, he leant across and kissed Sophia again, softly still but with enough urgency to indicate to her that he was working hard to keep his arousal in check. He placed his hands on Sophia's cheeks and increased the intensity of his kiss, letting his tongue explore her mouth and receiving reciprocal attention from her.

Deciding it was time to up the ante, Sophia let her fingers trail down over his six-pack to the hem of his briefs. She marvelled at his control (German discipline again!) as he suppressed a sigh and remained virtually motionless. She knew this was an act, the calm before the storm, but my God! how Sophia was looking forward to the maelstrom. Before she unleashed his cock, she wanted him to undress her, but would he intuit this without being told? Why had she ever doubted him? Breaking the kiss, he unzipped her dress and helped her out of it. She was left in only her panties and they provided little in the way of an effective defence. Rather than taking them off, though, he rubbed her through the lacy fabric, again gently and without overt urgency. Instinctively, he found her nub and, drawing a gasp from Sophia, started rubbing it with a circular motion, listening as her breathing became louder and more irregular.

Removing his finger for just a second, he repositioned it to the side of her sex and slid it under her panties and onto her lips. He moved north once more and resumed his work on her clitoris, feeling it expand beneath his fingers. More than a minute elapsed before he focused his attention on her pussy, which, what with all the waiting, was as wet as Sophia could ever remember it. Two of his fingers slipped straight in, causing Sophia to buck, while imagining what his cock would feel like when she finally received it. For she knew that she was in for the long haul with this man. The fact that he had already been fucking another woman that very afternoon turned her on even more.

Seeing that Sophia liked his touch, Andreas slipped another finger into her seemingly limitless expanse. Receiving the encouragement he wanted, he added the little finger and asked her matter of factly if she wanted his entire hand inside her. When she gave him the green light, he withdrew his hand so that he could remove her panties. The slurping noise it made as it exited her pussy was one more stimulus among a whole bunch that threatened to drive Sophia over the edge before his cock was even unleashed. Andreas gently massaged her outer lips with his wonted lack of urgency before replacing his fingers inside her one by one. She wondered how she could accommodate such a big hand, but the wondering stage didn't last long, as he added his thumb and once the hand was securely in, pushed it down perhaps an inch, drawing a gurgling noise from Sophia.

'You want me to fuck you with my hand?'

'I want you to fuck me like you fucked that woman this afternoon.'

Andreas smiled in response and began to pump her steadily. Her vaginal juices were so plentiful that she could scarcely feel him apart from when his hand rubbed against her pubic bone. She was producing so much natural lubrication that the bedsheet was getting seriously wet.

'Now you come,' said the laconic German.

He took his hand out, flexed it a couple of times and then drove it back in as if he meant it. Sophia sensed that the gentle phase of her session with her driver was over and that he would now subjugate her to his will. She was only too happy to be putty in his hands. Besides pumping his fist up and down, he twisted it around inside her and monitored her reaction. When he saw her tearing at the bedsheets with her fingernails, he knew it was time to bring her off. Bringing his other hand to her splendid buttocks, he spread her wide and, with only his saliva for lubrication, drove his index finger into her anus, progressively pushing it further in until the entire finger was inside her. Already on the point of coming, Sophia was finally driven over the edge when he moved his fist so that it rubbed against his finger through the separating membrane. He watched the Englishwoman intently as she rode him like a bucking bronco, howling and cursing and telling him to stay inside her. He was quite happy to oblige, as he looked forward to the next part of the evening, when he knew that she would be gagging to wrap her mouth around his cock.

TWO

After she reached her third orgasm, Andreas decided that enough was enough. Removing his hand, despite Sophia's protestations, he lay back and let her catch her breath.

'You're a beast,' he said with little emotion and even less empathy.

'It's your beast I crave,' replied Sophia, jumping up and making straight for his tell-tale bulge.

'Were you thinking about me when you fucked that woman?'

'Why should I?' he replied with insouciance. 'She was woman enough for me.'

'What if I say I don't believe you.'

'Your prerogative,' said the man of few words.

'I love it when you talk dirty. I'm going to make you beg for me, because I know you are lying.'

Sophia backed up her words by running her fingernails along his penis, which was still held captive by his pants. In spite of himself, the German let out the faintest of whimpers.

'We can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way,' said Sophia, taking advantage of the ascendancy she was gaining over the man. For that was all he was, ultimately. Just a man - with a man's needs, a man's weakness.

'Whatever,' he said, but Sophia could hear the lack of conviction in his voice.

She continued to stroke his tumescent manhood with one hand, while playing with his biceps with the other. How empowering it was to feel that his immense physical strength was something of no significance beside the control she was going to exercise over him. She was going to render him as impotent as Samson shorn of his hair. He would soon forget about the other women he had bagged as trophies. All he was going to want was her, and she had it in her power to deny him that. He was going to have to beg...

In the meantime, though, she wanted that cock in her mouth and she wanted to feast on his cum. Pulling down his briefs, she was confronted by a truly magnificent specimen, which strutted before her like the Ferrari prancing horse. It was quite dark in colour, with throbbing veins capped by a purple dome.

'Not bad,' Sophia said, inspecting the weapon but not yet making any use of it.

'You know what to do with it,' said the German, intent on retaining the appearance of control.

'I've seen bigger,' she said, not perhaps altogether truthfully, as it combined length and girth in a way that even her husband Peter couldn't quite match.

The German drew breath as if he wanted to say something, but stopped short, aware that this woman had an edge to her that he had never encountered before. It was a smart move, as Sophia decided that the phoney war had run its course and it was time to make an assault. Taking his column in her hand, she raked her tongue along its length and then drew back to admire her handiwork. The cock pulsed and jerked in front of her face, wordlessly urging her to get to work on it. With a sudden movement, she yanked it towards her and engulfed it in her mouth. Andreas gulped and spat out something in German. At the same time, his hands found her breasts and began to massage them with as much tenderness as he could manage. Sophia was pleased with the way he was attempting to accommodate himself to her supremacy. So long as he remembered who was boss, this would go well - very well.

She upped the tempo on his cock, determined to bring him off before her jaw started aching. She wasn't the greatest fan of blowjobs - with one exception. If the cock was really massive, she got a hell of a kick out of manipulating it and manoeuvring it in her mouth. And this one was truly massive! And it seemed to be swelling still further. Holding the shaft at its base, she held the tool at the optimal angle to allow her to pump it right to the back of her throat and back. Using an old trick she had learned from a girlfriend years ago, she started counting, aiming to see him release his load before she reached 20.

No man had ever lasted that long before and the German stud was to prove to be no exception to the rule. She had scarcely reached eight when she felt - mainly through her hand - the orgasm beginning to build in the driver's loins. Audio cues provided another clue that he was on the brink, as he began to yell in his native tongue and then in English.

Sophia was deft enough to slightly disengage her mouth from his pulsing hard-on long enough to articulate the words 'Come inside me, you gigolo!' Although he had no way of making out what she had said, he instinctively knew her utterance's purpose, and duly obliged, discharging what seemed to Sophia like half a pint of semen into her throat. Having swallowed it all down, she betook herself to his helmet - having to hold his penis firmly, since it was still jerking wildly - and lapped up every millilitre of his fragrant creamy cum.