It is just an ordinary street with rows of identical houses punctuated with the occasional alley or driveway. I first noticed that the house across the alley was vacant again as I arrived home one afternoon some months back. A 'To Let' sign had been put up earlier in the day.

We stood still for a moment, drinking in the silence, and then I suggested that we watch the sunset from the top of the dune. Scrabbling up the slope we took two steps forward and one back in the loose, dry sand, and when we reached the crest I flattened out a small area for us to sit down on. As I casually put my arm round Estelle's shoulders she moved in to sit close up to me and hooked her own arm over my thigh, both of us pretending we weren't fully aware of her elbow, resting right up between my legs.

I am only writing this story as it seems to be constantly on my mind ever since it happened. I feel that writing about it may in some way help me to forget it. My wife who was at the time my girlfriend knows nothing of this and I could not possibly tell her as it would cause so much trouble and certainly split us up for good.

The glare of the desert sun outside the windows was dazzling to the eyes even from within the hotel, and the three of us sitting in the reception area were glad of the relief offered by the hard-working air conditioning. Dave, an American executive in his early forties, was waiting for a Land Rover to pick him up and take him on a two-day inspection tour of his company's locations, further south into the deep desert. His wife Estelle, mid-thirties (like me), friendly and quite delightful, had come along on the trip hoping to see something of the great sand sea that, having been brought up on Hollywood epics, she believed covered the whole of North Africa. And me? I was the English pilot of the small, fast Beechcraft Twin Bonanza that Dave's Tripoli office had chartered to fly the two of them the 400 miles south to the small desert town of Sebha.

Her years as a corporate analyst and suburban housewife were hardly good experience for her new career, but money was tight and jobs were few ... an open mind was needed. Leigh had kept the advertisement over a week before making an enquiry. She had even thrown it in the garbage a couple of times, only to retrieve it on both occasions.

Lorna often told Steve that many of her best ideas came to her during her orgasm.She had supported leukaemia research ever since one of her best friends at ballet school, Cheryl Greenwood, had died of the disease when she was only seventeen. Every year since then she had done some kind of fund raising activity. She had run marathons, done sponsored aerobathons, swum many hundreds of lengths and the previous year had made her first parachute jump, although she had not been naked when she jumped as her friend Julia had once been.

Kathy had made a mess of the booking for the conference. The main hotel was full and about 20 of us were moved a mile away to a hotel that had been closed for the season, no food and only two members of staff who were nonplussed to see us. To be fair Kath was normally very efficient and did talk them into opening the bar, and then proceeded to drink its entire contents.

Robert MacAllister studied the catalogue with meticulous interest, every now and then taking a sip from his glass of finest ruby port. It was to be the biggest sale of erotic art for years and he had his eye on several items. He had been an avid collector of erotica for many years. His wife, Amanda, now often joked that it was to compensate for the fact that he could no longer manage the real thing. But ribald humour was one of the things that had cemented their marriage for nearly 40 years and he would simply blow a large smoke ring from his huge cigar. His self-satisfied smile making it clear to everyone that, as far as he was concerned, nothing more needed to be said.

I made sure that I was ten minutes early for my date with Suzie. I used the extra moments to buy a long-stemmed red rose from the flower stall in the station forecourt and to compose myself before meeting her. I was nervous. It was my first date since the first time I went out with Helen nearly 25 years ago.

We've never met, but when I hear your voice I get hard straight away. Today I've been teasing you, calling you and telling you what I'm going to do to you later...

My bike's broken so I'm getting the tube into central London instead. I'm wearing jeans and a t-shirt. What the hell, I'm going commando.

They say that winter in the city can be a miserable affair. Expressions change. Faces become grim, stuffed down into the collars of their overcoats. No one celebrates their body in winter. They celebrate resistance, if grim survival can be made celebratory. But that’s why I’ve come now and not then. Even in the city the air smells like flowers. Chestnut blossoms dust the pavement and the girls who walk over them move like willows, their short, loose skirts whispering over their buttocks and fluttering about their soft, strong thighs. In the afternoon heat, from my shaded seat outside the café, I notice the girls are not annoyed when I look.

I returned a few minutes later with a tray of croissants, conserves and coffee and we sat up in bed and contemplated the prospects for what looked like a lovely Summer day in early Autumn, as the bright warm sun filtered in through the curtains. I knew exactly where I wanted to go that day, but I waited to hear what Steve might have in mind. When he suggested getting out of town for the day, I revealed my plan. My Uncle Robert owns a stately home a few miles out of town and as it wasn’t open to the public today, I knew we would have the whole place, and one part of it in particular, completely to ourselves. We would be able to spend the whole day completely alone, doing whatever we wanted.

The van stopped and Julia appeared at my side. She blindfolded me with a scarf, which made me even wetter with excitement, slid me out of the van and carried me with ease in a fireman’s hoist into a building. I was amazed at how strong she was. I was placed on the floor and when she removed my blindfold I saw I was in a large empty room like a workshop, the kind of place you see in crime films or TV series. In the middle of the room was a bed surrounded by lights on stands, which I assumed was where the action would take place. Julia sat on a chair close to me and I drew my knees up to my breasts from an instinctive need to hide my damp crotch. I was nervous of what would happen next. After a few minutes, four men entered through a door in the opposite wall. For a split-second of stabbing fear I thought they were all going to do me. Then I realised that the one dressed differently from the others in a charcoal grey suit – the others wore black – was tied up and gagged like me. And then I realised that he had been brought here to fulfil my fantasy, and I was here to fulfil his!

She eased out of my hands again and bent over, showing her beautiful rounded bottom to my delighted gaze, then reached down to pull up on her black fishnet tights just above her white ankle socks, which revealed her tights to be footless. She carefully peeled off her fishnets over each of her white plimsolls in turn, straightened up and turned around to face me, now dressed only in her tiny black satin panties and her white plimsolls and ankle socks.

I hadn’t seen Rick since we left school almost twenty years ago, but we instantly recognised each other. I paid for my pint and went over to his table in the corner of the bar.
“Long time, no see”, I said, “I didn’t know you were still around.”
“I moved back here last year but my business means I travel around a lot”, He replied.
“What business are you in?”, I asked.
After a second, he replied “Making people’s dreams come true.”
“A bit like Jim’ll Fix It?”, I suggested.
“Yes and no”, he answered.

My heart stopped when I read the folded pages. They were all written in Carolyn’s hand and talked about how she lies awake at night thinking about him. I wondered whom she could be talking about. I read a little further and soon had my answer.

Stepping out of the meeting room, you walk straight to the water cooler. The stuffy hot air mixed with the seedy letches from the overweight sweaty men you have to been smiling at leaves you drained and weary...

As I followed my wife and her best mate down the hall (all three of us naked) and we turned into our bedroom I couldn’t help smiling and thinking this was the night I had always dreamed off…….

You had been wandering for a while now whether I had been holding myself back during sex. We did have a tendency to quickly fall into a routine or “what worked”. Apart from that, you figured I liked our sex, and loved you going down on me. Tonight however, I was going to get exactly what I wanted.