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ALPHABETICAL SEX STORY LISTINGS:

A - B - C - D - E - F - G - H - I - J - K - L - M - N - O - P - Q - R - S - T - U - V - W - X - Y - Z

TIE 3 mature and responsible and businesslike but



WARNING: This story includes sexually explicit material.

Please note any unfamiliar spellings and phrases may be due to the fact

I am English, not American.

I would like to thank the proof-readers for all their help

Any comments, including constructive criticisms, would be most

appreciated. Please send to artemis55@hotmail.com

This work is copyrighted by the author. You may download and keep one

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this paragraph remain on the copy. Any posting or reposting on a website,

other than the archive or Dejanews, or to a newsgroup requires my

permission first (but I'll probably say yes). This story should not, under

any circumstances be used to make a profit by anyone other than the author

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The Tie That Binds Us Chapter Three

At some point in time I was moved from Jessica's drawer and back into

Jason's wardrobe. I languished in the shadows at the back for a quite a

while, until one day Louise fished me out. Michael was pacing back and

forth across the bedroom, obviously tense. They both looked considerably

older. Louise had deep laughter lines at the corner of her eyes and a

sprinkling of silver in her dark hair. Michael was now a young man, with a

strong resemblance to both his parents. When he wasn't frowning, he was

probably quite attractive.

"I have to make a good impression," he was saying, running his hands

distractedly through his hair. "You know what they say, you only get to

make one first impression and no one ever forgets it."

"I know, dear," Louise said soothingly, pulling out another couple of

ties. "I'm sure you'll make a fantastic impression."

"I have to send the right messages," Michael told her. "I have to look

mature and responsible and businesslike, but at the same time young and

creative and inventive. A survey showed that most interviewers made up

their minds about job applicants during the first two minutes. Two

minutes!"

"Come on, Michael, calm down," Louise said firmly. "Your suit looks

very smart and businesslike. If you add a colourful tie, I'm sure you'll

create the impression you want. Your Dad's not one for colourful ties

though, these are the best I could find. Take your pick."

"Thanks Mum. I don't know why I left this to the last minute. I

brought this suit as soon as I got the interview date."

"Nice to know you've got a bit of me in you," Louise teased. "If it

wasn't for your Dad, I'd leave everything to the last minute."

"I had noticed that about you," Michael said, meekly letting Louise knot

a tie around his neck.

"Had you now?" Louise asked, putting her head on one side and regarding

her handiwork. "Nope, that one isn't right." She removed the tie, then

picked me up and slid me under Michael's collar.

"Somehow you seem to have inherited the best qualities of both me and

your dad. You've got my creative side and your dad's business instincts

and organisational skills. Look how he took my hobby of flower arranging

and turned it into a lucrative little business. I think you'll make a

brilliant computer game designer. Just relax and be yourself."

She finished tying a knot in me and stood back, scrutinising me. "I

think that's perfect, what do you think?"

Michael studied his reflection in the mirror. "You're right Mum, this

tie is perfect."

"Good."

"I've worn this tie before, you know," Michael said, grinning at Louise

in the mirror. "I lost my school tie and wore this one instead. Got

detention, I seem to remember."

"I don't remember that," Louise said, raising her eyebrows at him. "You

hardly ever got into trouble, not like your sister. In fact, I'm willing

to bet wearing that tie to school was Jessie's idea."

"You know, you could be right," Michael admitted. "Right, I'd best be

going or I'll be late. That's one trait of yours I'd rather not inherit,

if you don't mind."

"Go on, off you go," Louise said. "You look wonderful and if they don't

decide to hire you the moment you walk through the door, they're insane."

"Thanks Mum. See you later."

Michael was obviously still nervous. He fidgeted constantly as he

waited for his interview, shifting in his seat, smoothing his hair and

repeatedly readjusting me. When his turn came he seemed to answer all the

questions put to him competently enough, as far as I could tell. He

gradually relaxed and his answers became longer and more enthusiastic. At

the end, they asked him to wait for a moment while they had a muttered

conversation. Then they stood up, shook his hand and told him he had the

job.

Michael waited until he had left the office building before he

celebrated. He gave a quiet cheer, then started phoning his family and

friends to tell them his good news. The last call he made was to someone

that he called 'darling'. He arranged to meet her in a hotel room. By the

time he got there, his girlfriend was already sprawled naked on the bed.

"Can you believe it, Gwen," Michael exclaimed. "They gave me the job!

My dream job, and they just gave it to me!"

"I knew you'd get it," she said, jumping of the bed and throwing her

arms around his neck. "I'm so proud of you, baby."

"It's so unbelievable, darling," Michael told her, collapsing onto the

bed still holding her. "I keep thinking the alarm's going to go off and

I'll wake up."

"Well, I don't think you're dreaming, but just in case, let's make sure

it's a wet dream," Gwen suggested, attacking his clothes. "I've only got

half an hour before I have to be back at my desk."

"Best make the most of it then," Michael said, giving her a hand to take

off his trousers. They would have got him undressed a lot quicker if they

hadn't stopped every few seconds to kiss, but eventually he was just as

naked as she was.

"Seeing as this is may be a dream, do I get to live out my fantasies?"

Michael asked, picking me up and looking at Gwen challengingly.

"I suppose so, if it's your dream," Gwen replied. "How do we know it's

not my dream, though?"

"I don't know, how can we tell who's dream it is?" Michael asked

"Hmm, did you order champagne to celebrate?"

"No, but neither did you," Michael pointed out. "There's none here."

"Well, that's where you're wrong," Gwen said, producing a tray with an

ice bucket containing a bottle and two glasses from under the bed. "So

that settles it, this is my dream." She popped the cork out of the bottle

and filled the glasses, handing one to Michael in exchange for me. She let

him take a sip, then took his glass away and quickly bound me over his

eyes.

"Hey, what are you doing?" he demanded.

"This is my dream, just lie back and let me play," she ordered, pushing

him down on the bed and she stretching out besides him.

"But why am I blindfolded?" Michael asked.

"Not being able to see heightens the other senses, didn't you know that,

baby," Gwen said. She touched the tip of her tongue to one of his nipples,

then moved her head so her hair trailed across his chest and down to his

groin. She lowered her head until he could feel her warm breath on the

sensitive head of his erect penis, which twitched in anticipation of her

mouth. Then he gave a startled gasp as she stroked down its length with an

ice cube. She worked the piece of ice all over his genitalia until it

melted into a tiny sliver, that she deposited in his belly button, and

armed herself with a new one. He tried to reach out for her, but she

avoided his groping hands and continued assaulting his body with the frigid

block. When he was shuddering and gasping, she reached up and pressed a

kiss to his lips.

"Would you like some champagne, baby?" she asked. Michael gave a

noncommittal grunt, trying to catch hold of her but she evaded him again.

She dipped a finger into one of the glasses of champagne, then rubbed it

across his lips. His tongue licked up all the stray drops, and she

repeated her actions. Then she surprised him by dipping her breast into

the champagne instead. As soon as he realised what was serving him his

champagne, he began eagerly sucking and licking her nipple.

"Mm, that feels good," she said, sighing. "But I think I'd like some

champagne too." She pulled away from his mouth and moved down the bed,

taking the glass of champagne with her. She dipped her fingers into the

pale liquid and let it drop onto the top of his penis. It trickled down

and she reached her tongue out and licked it up before it disappeared into

the tangle of hair. She continued dribbling champagne onto him and lapping

it up until Michael gave a groan and sat up. He grasped her hips and

entered her from behind as she knelt on the bed.

She didn't seem to mind him interrupting her drinking. She leant back

against him, sighing contentedly as his hands caressed her breasts. They

moved together in a familiar rhythm, sighing, then shuddering together.

They relaxed together for a while, then Gwen got up and went into the

bathroom. When she came back, Michael was still sprawled on the bed, but

he had pushed me away from his eyes so he could see.

"I've got a proposition for you, Miss Mitchell," he said lazily,

watching her dress.

"What, another one?" she asked, pausing to take a sip of her drink.

"Yeah, another one. I was thinking that now I have a nice, well paying

job I could get a place of my own. But it's not that well paid, so I

wondered if you would like to share the bills with me."

"You serious?" she asked, sitting down on the bed besides him.

"Yeah, I'm serious. I've been thinking about this for a while now."

"You have?" she queried. "And that's the most romantic way you could

think to ask me?"

"That's me, as unromantic as they come," he said, watching her

anxiously.

"Hmm, well it worked on me, baby," she told him, cuddling up next to

him. "Let's start house hunting."

"Really! Oh Gwen, I love you!" Michael said, hugging her tightly.

"I love you too, baby," Gwen said. "You're timing is lousy though. I

have to be back at work or you're going to be paying those bills on your

own. Pick me up tonight and we'll celebrate some more."

"OK. But it's your turn to wear the blindfold tonight, and I get to

play."

I don't know what they used for a blindfold that night, but it wasn't

me. I was put back into Jason's wardrobe. The next time I saw daylight was

when Jason was sorting through his clothes. He had finished with his

shirts and had just started on his ties, when Jessica erupted into the

room. She had changed considerably since she had last used me as a belt.

Her hair was no longer multicoloured and spiky and she was dressed

conventionally enough in jeans and a T-shirt. The way she flung herself

down on the bed was still the same though. Jason gave her a long look,

then continued with his task.

"So how did the shopping go?" he asked eventually.

"We got just about everything," Jessica said in a calm voice that

contradicted her stormy expression. "Alan brought me a new dress as well."

"That was nice of him," Jason said cautiously. Jessica sat up and

pulled the dress out of a bag and held it up against herself. It was a

dark navy with white flowers scattered across the fabric.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Um, what do you think?"

"It's very nice," Jessica said, making it sound like an insult.

"It's not your normal kind of thing, is it?" Jason queried.

"No," Jessica said flatly. "Neither is pink flowery wallpaper, or pine

wardrobes, or fluffy covers on the toilet seat."

"No, that doesn't sound like you," Jason agreed.

"But it is Alan," Jessica said despairingly. "That's what we brought

today. What am I going to do, Dad?"

"Well if it isn't what you want, why did you buy that stuff?"

"Because Alan likes it, and I love Alan. This makes him happy, and when

he's happy, I'm happy."

"Are you really that happy?" Jason asked.

"Most of the time, which is more then I've ever been able to say

before," Jessica said. "I love him so much, Dad, more then I ever imagined

I could love anyone. I can't imagine my life without him. I'm trying so

hard to be what he wants, but sometimes it's not that easy."

"Well, maybe you should stop trying so hard," Jason suggested. "He fell

in love with you just the way you were. Just be yourself."

"That's very easy to say, Dad," Jessica told him. "The principle is a

great one, but it doesn't always work for day to day life. Alan wants the

bedroom to be blue and cream, I want it orange and red. Should I be myself

and make I remember you telling me that a successful relationship involves

compromises on both sides."

"Compromises, yes. Trying to completely change yourself into something

you're not isn't compromising. Look at this tie, for instance." Jason held

me up. "I wore this tie when I married your mother. She wanted me to wear

a white suit and a pink shirt. I wanted to wear a black suit and white

shirt. So we compromised. I wore a black suit with this pink tie. It

wasn't exactly what either of us would have chosen, but it didn't make

either of us unhappy. We talked about it, and your Mum explained that she

wanted me to co-ordinate with her bridesmaids, and I explained that I would

feel like an idiot in a pink suit."

"What a shame, Dad," Jessica said. "I'd love to have seen photos of you

in a pink suit."

"Well, you're just going to have use your imagination, Jessie. I'm

trying to make a serious point though. You should talk to Alan, let him

know how you feel. I'm sure he doesn't want you to agree to things you

don't really like. You need to sort these things out before you get

married."

"Well, it sounds like good advice, Dad," Jessica admitted. "I tell you

what, if it works you can wear that pink tie when you give me away."

"OK. And what if my sage advice doesn't work?"

"Well if I'm condemned to a life of fluffy toilet seats and flowery

wallpaper, the least can do is wear a pink suit to give me away. Just

think how happy it will make, Mum."

"It's a deal."

A few months later I once again found myself knotted around Jason's

neck, listening to a marriage service. Jessica looked radiant and very

happy as she clung to the arm of her new husband. Jason and Louise may

have looked older but they seemed just as happy as they had on their

wedding day, and Michael and Gwen spent most of the reception gazing into

another's eyes.

After the wedding, I once more ended up in the back of Jason's wardrobe.

Louise was the next person to take me out. She had a motley collection of

clothes piled on the floor, and she was sorting out new additions.

"Can you believe we're going to be grandparents?" Jason asked, handing

Louise a cup of tea.

"I don't feel old enough," Louise replied.

"Me neither," Jason said. "It only seems the other day I was buying

wearing that tie and promising to love, honour and cherish you."

"Is this your wedding tie?" Louise inquired.

"Can you think of any other reason I would have brought a pink tie?

"Guess not," Louise said. "We've not done badly, considering everyone

thought we were far too young to get married."

"We've had some good times, haven't we, darling. Any regrets?" Jason

asked.

"Not a single one," Louise told him. "We've made some good memories.

That's one of the reasons I want to make this quilt. I'm going to use bits

of material that have memories for us all. I've got Jessie's romper suit,

and Michael's first pair of trousers, and bits of their school uniforms.

Here's my wedding dress and the curtains from our first flat. This is the

blanket we had on the children's cot. That's my Mum's favourite tablecloth

that she used for Sunday lunch every week when we were kids. And that

square's from that old cap your Dad wore for gardening. I want every

square of this quilt to have a story attached to it. So I think this tie

belongs in the quilt don't you?"

"Definitely," Jason agreed. "It's played its part in quite a few

important moments in this family's life. It deserves a place in your

quilt."

Louise picked up her scissors, cut me into squares and gave me a whole

new beginning.

Copyright Vickie Morgan, 1999 E-mail artemis55@hotmail.com

This story is distributed free of charge for your entertainment. It

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