The Innocent

The Innocent
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ISBN:  9781907753459
Author:  John Argus
Word Count:  70,230
Format:  eBook

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Learning to CrawlLearning to Crawl

Utterly bewildered by events - so monumental to her - and his ever-changing demeanour towards her, poor Zoe did not know what to do or say for the best, so she nodded uncertainly, and was desperately happy to see a small smile of relief lift his stern expression, just a little.
   Steven Erasmus helped her off the desk, his hands easily cupping her bottom, and lowered her into his capacious chair. He settled her there for a moment, stroking her silky hair from her flushed and slightly perspiring brow, her arms still imprisoned by her own blazer, then, her wide and mesmerised eyes following their every move, his fingers went to the front of his tented trousers and unbuttoned them...

Into the scheming, backstabbing political gamesmanship of the back rooms of power comes a charmingly naive girl of irrepressible good will and optimism. Brought up in the isolated and deeply conservative surroundings of a distant Swiss boarding school, the lovely young Zoe Quincanon instantly becomes a sought after prize and pawn by the jaded moneyed set which inhabits the corridors of national politics.

Fascinated by her innocence and beguiled by her youth and beauty, men and women alike will seduce her with cunning words, and rouse her body to insatiable levels of want and need. But however they bind her body or mind, her gentle innocence remains.

'Tell me, Zoe, would you do me an enormous favour?' he suddenly pressed.
   'Um, well, of course, Mr Erasmus.' Her father had told her what an important man Mr Erasmus was, and she had read some articles about the government that confirmed he was a figure of immense stature and brilliance. He also behaved like a true gentleman, with perfect manners and diction; he was clearly a well-educated man of means, and worthy of respect.
   'My secretary is away for a time,' he said. 'Would you be a dear and take a letter for me?'
   'Me?' she squeaked. 'Well, I mean, I'm not a... err, I don't know shorthand.'
   'I'll talk slowly for you.' He smiled down at her patiently.
   'Well, if you don't mind me being a little slow, then of course I will,' she agreed breathlessly.
   He took her hand in his, led her around the desk, and sat down in his chair. Then he looked around and frowned. 'Dear me, there doesn't seem to be anywhere for you to sit,' he observed.
   'Um, I can move those files off that chair,' she suggested.
   'Oh, don't bother yourself, my dear, you can sit right here,' he said urbanely, patting his thighs.
   She blinked in surprise, again blushing profusely. 'But I don't think—'
   'Come,' he said, smiling benignly, his hand still patting his knee.
   'I'm sure I couldn't,' she protested. 'I mean, I'm sure it would be quite uncomfortable for you.'
   'For me?' he laughed. 'You're such a considerate thing, my dear.'
   Zoe felt an intense sense of unease at what he was suggesting, but then suddenly he grabbed her wrist and gently but firmly pulled her forward, and before she could do more than shake her head and mumble a futile protestation, she was sitting on his lap and his left arm was around her waist as he smiled at her in a most friendly, paternal fashion.
   'There,' he said, sounding immensely gratified, 'are we comfy?'
   'Well, actually...'
   'Good. Here you are, pencil and paper, everything you need to take some dictation for me.'
   She accepted the proffered implements instinctively, and glanced at the door hoping no one would walk in and see her in such a position.
   'To the Right Honourable Prime Minister, twenty-four Downing Street,' he began.
   Quite impressed, Zoe took down his words as quickly and neatly as she could. It was quite difficult writing whilst holding the pad in one hand, however, so she shifted her position on his lap in an attempt to brace herself properly. And Mr Erasmus assisted, easing her back somewhat, his right hand gripping her thigh. 'Dear Paul,' he went on.
   His hand was lightly squeezing and stroking her thigh, but Zoe thought little of it, concentrating as she was on getting the letter down accurately. Yet she did feel an odd sense of heaviness in her stomach, a tension she had rarely experienced before, and she could feel the heat of his body against hers as she wrote.
   And as she continued to write his hand stroked her higher and higher, to the point where she started to feel quite embarrassed and confused by it. Nevertheless, she could not quite bring herself to object or say anything. To suggest to a man like Steven Erasmus that he would do better to remove his hand was unthinkable. He was not doing any harm, and his idle caressing probably did not mean anything improper anyway. After all, he was a grown man, and married.
   She tried to ease her legs closer together, but his hand was already between them, and as it moved up even further she felt breathless, and a tingling started at the base of her spine that made it difficult to concentrate on his words. Her skirt had ridden up, and now his hand slipped casually beneath it, his fingers ever so gently gliding over the soft flesh of her inner thigh.
   She inhaled sharply, for his hand had moved higher still and was now as far up her thigh as it could possibly go, which meant that the side of it was pressed against her sex through her dainty white panties.
   Yet surely he meant nothing by it... surely?
   He was merely being friendly, and she would be horrified to accuse him falsely of doing something untoward. She would know if he did actually touch her there that her suspicions were correct, for that was strictly forbidden... he was touching her there now, but only accidentally, or at least it could have been accidentally, and it was only the side of his hand, and... and she could not understand why she felt so funny inside with the sharp scent of his aftershave in her nostrils and his soft breath on her throat. Then his fingers were gently stroking her hair back from her flushed cheek and smoothing it behind her ear, and she glanced anxiously from the writing pad to see him smiling at her.
   'Your lovely hair isn't in your face again, is it?' he asked casually. 'You need to see what you're writing.'
   She shook her head dumbly, her emotions in a spin, her eyes wide.
   'That's good,' he went on. 'And you really do have lovely hair, Zoe, absolutely lovely. But I'm sure there are times it gets in the way.' He caressed her cheek. 'Like when it hides your beautiful face, for example.' He kissed her chastely on the same cheek, his smile reassuring. Nevertheless, she trembled, and her chest was tight even as a delicious sense of opening doors, of something new and wonderful happening, possessed her.
   He kissed her again, and his hand gently eased her face towards his so his lips pressed tentatively against hers. Her eyes widened even more as she sat utterly motionless. His lips were amazingly soft against hers, not at all like those of the few boys she had kissed over the years, and she felt herself melting strangely against him, her head easing back against his shoulder as his left arm held her firmly in place.
   His tongue danced along her lower lip, and then dipped gently into her mouth. Excited, shocked, she stared up at him, feeling it thrust deeper. She pushed her own tongue awkwardly against his and moaned softly, her eyes closing as she surrendered to a novel and exulting sense of pleasure.
   He drew back, still smiling gently. 'Shall we continue?' he asked softly, his head cocking slightly to one side.
  She stared at him in confusion, wondering to what he referred. Then he glanced down at the notebook in her lap, and she blushed as she straightened up a little and scooped it up.
   She blushed even more deeply seeing how high her skirt had risen up her thighs, and awkwardly smoothed it down again with her free hand.
   'The new Transient Commerce Bill is every bit as complex as you say,' he dictated, his voice smooth as he glanced towards the window. 'That, of course, is the point.'
   'As complex as you say,' Zoe repeated beneath her breath, scribbling furiously.
   Erasmus smiled and repeated his words as his left hand slid down to her hip and patted her gently. His fingers curled in beneath the hem of her skirt, and eased it upwards as she finished writing and he continued speaking. 'The opposition will have little time to examine this bill, and what time they do have will be focussed on what they consider the more important elements. Those elements will also be the focus of their attacks in the media and the House, and—'
   'Just a minute, please,' she muttered, writing as quickly as she could.
   'Take your time,' he said magnanimously.
   'Focus... media... house,' she whispered, and just then noticed that the tips of his fingers had eased slowly upwards along the outside of her thigh, and that one finger was now hooked under her skirt as it gently caressed the smooth and tender flesh beneath the elastic of her panties.
   'We must continue to keep the opposition off guard so that we can carry out the programs... write, my dear, write.'
   Zoe hurriedly applied pencil to paper again, biting her lower lip as she tried to follow his words while his finger continued gently stroking her skin. It was inside her panties, and she was quite flustered and uncertain as to how to react. She awkwardly tried to ease her skirt down in a casual manner with her forearm, while continuing to hold the pad in one hand and to write with the other. He did not appear to notice; his finger continued lightly caressing her. Then as she started a new page he began playing with the thin elastic waistband, gently and casually twisting it around his finger. In the meantime, his other hand dropped lightly to her thigh and began moving slowly upwards until it too was pushing beneath the hem of her skirt.
   She swallowed, blinking rapidly in an effort to see and think straight. She felt a prickly heat coursing up her back and between her breasts. She felt flushed, her mind a whirling storm of fears and desires she could not make sense of. Was Mr Erasmus doing this subconsciously? Surely he did not intend anything by it, and if he did, what should she do? Upbraiding a man like Mr Erasmus seemed a daunting task, and she would feel a terrible fool if her girlish anxieties were simply making too much of a casual display of affection.
   His right hand was stroking her inner thigh again, close to her panties, and she experienced a stab of surprise when she saw that her legs were parted a little, for she was certain she had closed them tightly. As before, the side of his finger brushed lightly against the front of her panties, and she felt a deep, moist heat down there she could not explain, and which presented her with an entirely new source of anxiety. For she was almost positive that Mr Erasmus meant nothing inappropriate, and if he were to somehow detect her improper response to his tactile friendliness, he would understandably think badly of her and be extremely hurt. Perhaps he would even speak to her father about it.
   'And so I believe a more complex bill, necessitating the opposition support, what they believe to be minor elements in... Zoe, are you getting all this?'
   She stared at him a trifle dazed, and shook her head. 'I'm sorry, sir.' She took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing pulse.    'Where were you?'
   'Zoe,' he said disapprovingly, shaking his head.
   'I'm ever so sorry, Mr Erasmus.'
   'Read what you have to me.'
   She bent her head, flipped the page back, and began to read. As she did so he eased his left hand away from her hip and she let out a mental sigh of relief, though oddly, the relief was tinged with disappointment. Then he leaned forward to reach for a paper on his desk, angling his body so she almost slid off his lap. He quickly pulled her back into position, and suddenly she found his hand resting on the flat plain of her tensed stomach...
Average Rating (3 Reviews):  
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Rating:  
The Innocent
Friday, 6 December 2013  | 

Thanks very much, good book, great service, books getting better all the time, keep up the good work, have a great xmas & new year.


Response:

Thanks for the kind words, John, and you have a good xmas and new year too!


Rating:  
The Innocent
Friday, 8 February 2013  | 

This book is Argus at his best. A fresh approach to the subtle art of changing the innocence of a naive young girl in to a happily debauched young woman.


Rating:  
Old-fashioned, but fun
Wednesday, 6 January 2010  | 

The Innocent is an amiable little book; Zoe is the sort of unlikely child-woman you don't get anywhere else but in erotic fiction, but her exploits are sympathetically related, and there's a satisfying relish in seeing virtue rewarded. Old-fashioned, but fun.


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