The Best of Roger Frank Selby

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The Best of Roger Frank Selby Page 4

by Roger Frank Selby


  ‘She didn’t strip right off, if that’s what you mean, just down to her bra and panties. But that girl has one hell of a body! Talk about “X-rated!”’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘You do?’

  ‘Well, ah, anyone can see that.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Do you think she would..?’

  ‘Would what, Bill?’

  ‘Well, er, strip right off?’

  ‘Not for me, she wouldn’t. There’s not much love lost between us. It’s World War Two all over again! But the fact that she did what she did, shows she might be up for it. But why should she?’ he shrugged. ‘What’s the idea?’

  ‘Well, we can’t afford an expensive brochure for this bike. We’ll have to use our regular printers and produce the artwork in-house.’

  ‘Yes, but why …’

  ‘I was thinking of using Olga in the brochure; she’s a photogenic girl – er, I would imagine. She could model all the bikes in normal sports clothing …’

  ‘… And then the tandem with noclothing?’

  ‘Well, I can just imagine the Germans getting away with that, Andy – can’t you? Maybe for once we could beat our competitors to the market with a new idea anda sexy brochure – if she agrees. Even just bra and panties might be enough.’

  ‘I think they would, as it’s Olga – but what a turn-on for the customers if she went that bit further – the same girl that they all saw dressed in her sports gear on the regular bikes, pedalling nude on the tandem! But will she do it, Bill?’

  ‘I think she might if you asked her – after all, that’s how she showed you her idea.’

  ‘Not in the nude, unfortunately … I don’t know … You’re the boss; why don’t you ask her?’

  ‘I couldn’t … You ask. I’m fairly certain she fancies you.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘But Olga, It was Bill’s idea. I’m just the engineer, remember? He gets a bit bashful around women – but he’s a very good businessman; he came up from nothing …’

  ‘… And he goes back to nothing.’ She looked a bit sad at that thought.

  ‘He will do, if we don’t help him through this. You came up with this clever idea; now we have to have a great looking model to sell the concept – you again! It won’t be such a big deal; just start off modelling the regular bikes in your normal sportswear and see how it feels?’

  She looked as if she was considering that.

  ‘Then, if you feel like it, try a few shots in your underwear – just like when you showed me. You didn’t seem too worried then.’

  ‘I was angry – and no one was taking pictures! Who istaking the pictures?’

  ‘I don’t know. Our regular man, I guess – The one who did the last brochure.’

  ‘But that brochure was so boring! I know a good photographer. He is the amateur, but he’s excellent and I think he would do it if I ask.’

  ‘But what would he charge?’

  She smiled a secret smile. ‘Oh, I don’t think he’d charge us anything.’

  ‘A boyfriend?’

  ‘A friend.’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘OK … great, Olga! You would do it then – if it’s this photographer?’

  ‘Well, like you say Andy, just as far as I feel like going, but this I promise you. The brochure will look so very good with this guy taking the photos … and Andy?’

  ‘Yes Olga?’

  ‘I think weare friends now, Yes?’

  God, she was beautiful when she smiled like that. ‘Oh yes! I’m sorry I was such a prick to you before.’

  ‘Prick?’

  ‘Er, that’s like, cock … You know …’

  ‘But cock to me is nice, Andy.’

  * * *

  A few days later the tandem was ready, and so was Olga in her bright sports gear. Now there was a real back seat for him to sit on, Andy could hardly wait for Olga to be sitting there in front of him. They were back in the production office for an after-hours photo shoot, and their surprise photographer was converting the place into a studio.

  ‘Hey, I didn’t realise you meant the boss, when you mentioned your photographer friend,’ Andy whispered, as Bill set up his backdrops and lights.

  ‘I know, but I model for him before – swimwear at his photography club. That’s how I meet him. He’s OK with the women once he has the camera behind which to hide.’

  ‘I had no idea he was into photography.’

  ‘He is thought of very well at the club – one of those who use the real film on Glamour night!’ Her giggle was infectious.

  Hearing the laughter, Bill looked around nervously. Andy felt compelled to say something to include him in the mild joke. ‘Olga was just saying that some of the guys in your club don’t bother with film on Glamour night.’

  He coloured a deep red. ‘I never did see the point in that … Anyway, we’re all digital now … OK, Olga, we’ll do a few warm-up shots first of all, with you in that sportswear.’

  ‘OK, Boss.’

  She was pleased to be right. Once behind the camera Bill was a different man. He kept up a continuous stream of chat that relaxed her, and mirrored her own thoughts as he moved her around, posing her with all the machines. After ten minutes or so he probably had all the sports clothing shots they needed.

  ‘Olga, if it feels right – and it isa bit warm in here – I’d like you to shed your top clothes – down to bra and panties if that’s OK with you?’

  ‘Yes Bill, that is fine by me. I’m OK. It feels good for me, with just you and Andy here.’ It really did.

  While Bill attended to his cameras and rearranged the lights, she slipped out of her sports clothes, aware of male glances, but feeling pleasantly cooler in the warm studio. She saw herself in the mirror. She looked good under the lights. The white underwear accentuated her creamy skin, but there was nothing understated about her shape, she thought, ruefully.

  ‘Wow, Olga; you arethe best!’ Bill whistled softly, ‘a real “hourglass” figure!’

  Andy seemed really surprised at his boss; he’d probably never known him so relaxed with a woman before.

  ‘You have seen it before Bill – at the club,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I know, but underwear is more intimate, somehow, and it will show in these pix.’ He raised his camera. ‘Now keep moving around Olga … that’s it, pose by it … good. Other side now. Lean in … get astride … now right on the tandem. Ride it. Yes! Make love to it … keep pedalling … great!

  They worked liked that for several minutes, then stopped to rest.

  ‘I wouldn’t have thought bra and panties would look right on a girl on a bike, but … they do on you!’

  ‘But you really wanted some nude photos, right?’

  ‘Well, how do you feel about that, then Olga?’

  She knew exactly how she felt. She got off the bike, reached back and unhooked the bra in full view of the men. She shrugged out of the shoulder straps and uncovered her breasts. She knew the sight of her bare titten was having an effect on the men by the silly looks and open mouths. She let her breasts swing and jiggle as she laid the bra over a chair back. Then she gave the guys a side view as she bent over to push her panties down over her hips and thighs. She stepped out nude, stooped to tidy her clothing for a moment (giving them an eyeful of her bottom) then turned back to the men. ‘Does that answer the question, Boss?’

  The laughter relaxed everyone and the photo shoot continued like a dream. Bill would be getting all the shots they were ever likely to need of her on her own with the bike.

  The shoot was going so well. Olga was happy, gorgeously naked and relaxed. Andy was watching agog as she sported herself on the tandem, but Bill was secretly worried about how he would get the pictures he really needed – the ones spelling out exactly how the bike was to be used by a couple. Would Olga go that far?

  ‘How do you feel about Andy coming into the frame now?’

  She looked very bright – glowing with the exercise, an
d obviously enjoying her exhibitionism.

  Her breasts rose and fell a little with excitement. ‘Don’t worry Bill. I know what pictures you need. I’d like to try that, but just the one step at a time … see how it feels, Yes?’

  ‘You are a trouper, Olga! Now, Andy, keep your shirt and jeans on. You can be the guy who has just fitted the extra parts to make the bike a tandem. Now get on and just ride behind her, holding the handlebars …’

  There was Andy, pedalling behind the naked girl in the viewfinder, emphasising her nudity and vulnerability. ‘Oh, that’s great! Fantastic!’ Bill worked the shutter continuously.

  ‘OK, Andy, while she keeps riding, slowly take off your set of handlebars. The intermediate shots will show how it’s done… Yes. That’s it. Now you have to hold on to her lovely waist. That’s it Olga, work that bottom around!’

  This is where we go beyond Glamour, he thought. He knew he was asking a lot of her – intimate contact with a man she hardly knew, while being photographed by another she knew only slightly better.

  ‘Now, Olga, if you’re ready, I’d like to take things a stage further – or we can take a break right now if you like?’

  ‘No …’ she breathed, ‘I’d like to keep going.’

  ‘Great. Now things get a little more overt. Olga, say “stop” at any time you don’t feel completely comfortable with what I suggest …’

  She smiled back at him, her full lips parted. He felt a rush of desire. Hey, what was going on here? She just fancied Andy, didn’t she?

  ‘OK then. Raise your hands, Andy; just touch the underside of Olga’s breasts. Oooh that’s it! Keep reacting like that, girl; head back, shake those tits from side to side. Stroke them, Andy … feel them a little more. Grab them. Raise your arms Olga, if you can, while he … ahhh! Wow, Olga; they are lovely! Perfect. Don’t touch them for a moment, Andy, while I get a few shots in … lovely! Beautiful! OK Andy, caress them gently … hey, don’t squeeze them out of shape, let the camera see her nipples … Yes. Lovely; keep them moving, keep everything moving … That pedalling action sure works well…’

  ‘Hey what about him – he still has all the clothes on!’

  ‘Yes, Olga, that’s the idea, it creates a power imbalance – although youhold the real power!’ Bill couldn’t get over the look of her naked. Without her knickers, her white thighs seemed to flow on up into her hips and waist – a continuous line up to her lifted breasts. And there was Andy, the lucky dog, touching and feeling her body – not as if it were his – but because she was letting a man do what had to be done to such a woman. ‘We have a totally beautiful, totally nude woman riding on the front of our tandem; and a fully dressed man close behind. He is touching, caressing, feeling and squeezing her tits, her body – all over – as she rides … and she is loving it, revelling …, perhaps wanting …’

  ‘Yes – I want Andy in the front!’

  ‘OK then.’

  The couple swapped around. She pulled his shirt off over his head, and then reached forward.

  As Bill zoomed in he could hardly believe what he saw through the viewfinder. Olga had unzipped Andy, and had him all the way out. He was pedalling madly, his legs akimbo.

  ‘Shall I keep on taking pictures? Olga?’

  ‘Yes … It is OK …’

  ‘Ahh … don’t bother to … ahh … ask me then!’ panted Andy

  Bill smiled, but kept snapping away, watching her massaging Andy’s shaft. These pictures could not go in any normal brochure, he thought.

  She stopped pedalling herself and went round to Andy’s far side. She pulled off his jeans raising each leg as she did. He rode on naked as her mouth went down on him.

  Bill took charge. ‘Come round and do it from this side, Olga. I want to see your bottom as you bend over him.’

  He moved in closer, photographing her breasts as they squashed rhythmically against Andy’s thighs.

  ‘Olga … when you’re ready … Olga …’

  She raised her head and looked at him with sleepy eyes. Her lips were wet and swollen with lust. Breasts swinging, her hand still held Andy’s long cock. ‘Yes, Bill?’

  ‘Olga, I want you on the front of the bike again and Andy on the back – we have to show the final stage.’

  Behind her again, Andy immediately had a clearance problem with her saddle. He removed it while she held her backside high. She began to pedal and her bare bottom rocked from side to side. Andy’s straining cock seemed to be reaching right up to where it was designed to go, while her broad cheeks edged lower …

  It seemed that the couple were going to couple anyway.

  ‘That’s it, Olga, let yourself sink back nice and slowly onto him …’

  Olga did and Andy slipped smoothly up into her, all the way. She looked at Bill through half closed eyes as she groaned.

  ‘Oooh, ahhh … Andy … start the pedalling!’

  Andy pedalled slowly, the action sending him in and out of the woman at a measured pace. ‘Now Bill, put down that camera and you come here now … put down the camera!’ He did as she told him. ‘Now you feel my tittenas Andy pedals and fucks me.’

  Bill took her big, pointed breasts in his hands, and felt their weight and movement as Andy rhythmically thrust up into her. She kissed Bill and opened her mouth to his tongue. He felt her hands working at his zipper and the wonderful release of his confined cock into her hands.

  She transferred her wet lips down and took him all the way into her mouth while he tumbled and kneaded her breasts, and Andy still pedalled on, thrusting into her.

  Not a small man, Bill couldn’t believe how much of him Olga could take in, but she did, somehow.

  Inevitably, Andy started to come into her, but she kept working on Bill, with just a few muffled groans.

  As he finished, Andy stopped pedalling and slipped out of Olga.

  ‘Andy, off please. Now, hurry! Bill! You take Andy’s place behind! Quick!’

  ‘Eh, what? Me?’

  ‘Yes, you Bill, now I want you inside me. Schnell!’

  He kicked off his trousers and mounted the warm saddle just vacated by Andy; her broad bottom hovered invitingly above his lap. ‘OK, Olga.’

  She slid easily down, enveloping him like a tight, gloved hand. ‘Ohhh! Now pedal, Bill, pedal!’ Bill pedalled for all he was worth, and she began to howl out her orgasm, her inner muscles squeezing his slippery cock. Bill seemed to go on and on, thrusting into her, pedalling the virtual miles away. Maybe this was what she needed. Andy might be a bit younger and more spectacular but Bill had the staying power. She was still crying out when Bill finally climaxed, shooting his own wetness deep inside her.

  Swallow Fitness’ new brochure showing the company’s nubile young board member, Olga Schulz posing nude on a tandem exercise bike with a clothed man behind her has caused quite a stir in the industry. CEO Bill Henderson, confirms that since the launch of the patented machine, and its controversial advertising, they have been swamped with orders.

  Fitness Trade Magazine understands that a number of competitors have looked into producing a similar machine to cash in on the boom, but the manufacturing patents, held by Ms Schultz appear watertight. For the time being, Swallow Fitness hold a lucrative monopoly in a new and intriguing sector of the fitness equipment market.

  Olga put down the article and glanced lovingly at the original bike that now had pride of place in her office, conveniently between her fellow directors’ offices. It was nearly time for them to ride her.

  She smiled wryly, wondering how that Fitness Tradejournalist would report the extraordinary board meetings of Swallow Fitness UK Limited.

  The Stocks

  ‘Ah, there you are, Mr Finch.’

  Finch lifted the plane from his work, mentally noting where the last shaving had been cut from the table leg he’d been squaring off for Smythe Minor, one of his less able students. He was glad his female visitor had chosen break time; his woodwork classes tended to be somewhat noisy and chaotic. A previous visit by
the voluptuous drama teacher had generated anonymous embarrassing remarks and even wolf-whistles from the class. Unfortunately, he’d been unable to deal with the situation effectively until her glare and natural authority had silenced the room.

  He brushed the shavings from his apron. ‘What can I do for you, Miss Curzon?’

  ‘I was wondering if you could make a prop needed for our forthcoming play?’ She sounded slightly breathless.

  ‘Just a single prop?’ Not hordes of swords and axes like you had me making last term?‘Shouldn’t be a problem. What is it exactly?’

  ‘Well, it’s quite a big item – a set of stocks, actually. You know, a sort of plank thing, holding one’s head and hands …’

  He immediately imagined the woman before him bent well over, her wrist and neck clamped in broad, polished mahogany, her round backside raised high… Finch stopped his rampaging imagination when he found himself looking intently at her… She was blushing!

  ‘What an interesting project. Do you have a drawing or picture I can work from?’

  ‘Well no, Mr Finch … Perhaps, you could sketch something?’

  Finch grabbed his 2B pencil and flipped to a virgin page on his pad. He sketched rapidly, hearing her sharp intake of breath as the drawing of device and captive took shape. As a hard-up student, he’d made money on the streets of Paris and London from his swift artistry. He resisted the strong temptation to impart Miss Curzon’s likeness on the captive wench. ‘Is this what you have in mind?’

  ‘Oh, Mr Finch! That’s it – exactly!’ She blushed again.

  ‘Well, technically, this is a pillory. I believe stocks just hold the ankles when seated – but that would not be so suitable for the play, I’d imagine.’

  ‘I agree … The script does, actually call for “stocks” but I think I rather like the idea of being … I mean, I had imagined something just as you have so ably drawn, and that would work far better with an audience, I should think.’ The woman seemed to have come alive with that sketch, showing – not too explicitly – the vulnerability of one so captured.

  ‘So, Miss Curzon, we’ll continue to call our pillory “stocks” just in case some spoilsport makes me build ankle restraints instead?’ He allowed himself a small grin.

 

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