*************** ADULTS ONLY ***************
The Loveable Ladies of Libido Lane
(C) by Erotin Thraller
*********************************************

Chapter 03 - The Remote 

The timing of coincidences can be quite amazing.  In this 
instance, it was quite fortunate.  And erotic.

Ann and I did not have adequate opportunity to talk much about 
the party for several days.  That night, following Ann's orgasm 
on the egg, we simply collapsed in bed.  The next morning, we 
slept late, then rushed off to work.  Later in the week, when 
finally we did discuss the party, we agreed that it would 
occasionally be fun in the future to include other people in our 
sexual activities.  We also agreed that it would be difficult to 
duplicate the circumstances of the Costume Party since, as she 
explained, all the women knew each other and had already 
established an ongoing friendly competition between them.  
Finally, we admitted that we both had a fantasy of seeing certain 
frigid women lured into sexual activity.  "It's fun," Ann 
laughed, "to see an ice berg like Anita become a slut."

That's when the subject of the egg came up again.

"The egg is fun," Ann admitted.  "It serves its purpose, but it 
has limitations.  The egg works only when a woman is willing to 
use it.  Unless she's already turned on, she's certainly not 
going to insert that old metal egg up into her privates, any more 
than she would accept some unknown man's throbbing erection."

That's when the coincidences began.  It happened during the 
following week.  I was involved in a project researching magnetic 
fields and their effect on the human brain.  Our team measured 
various field strengths and developed ways of projecting those 
fields in different patterns.  The results were interesting but 
never dependable.  One particular frequency had an especially 
narrow projection pattern so that it could be aimed at a specific 
target, but it seemed to have absolutely no effect on any of our 
lab rats.  Nor did it affect any of the men who were willing to 
expose themselves to it.  I was about ready to discard it and 
move on when one of the girls from the office came in with our 
morning donuts and coffee.  Before I quite realized what 
happened, she walked right through the projected pattern of the 
experimental magnetic beam.

With a sudden look of desperation, she set the food tray down in 
front of me, smiled and began unbuttoning her blouse.  "I need 
you," she whispered.

"Not here," I whispered back.  "I'll meet you in the rest room."

She was already there, stark naked, when I arrived.  I locked the 
door behind me, and we proceeded to screw in wild abandon.  She 
was insatiable, and finally, after coming twice, I had to call it 
quits.  She still wanted more, and I know she was disappointed, 
but at least she was able to get dressed and return to her desk.  
I'm not sure that she ever understood what had happened to her, 
and the effect of the magnetic beam apparently wore off soon 
afterward.  That evening, as I was leaving and passed by her 
desk, she turned away as if greatly embarrassed.

Magnetic field generators are really neat, in that they do not 
have to be large.  In this age of miniaturization, they are 
relatively easy to build.  You don't hear much about that because 
there's really not much call for them, and generally they are not 
considered to have much practical value.  Since the lab was not 
going to use our design, I kept it for myself.  Then I built 
another one in miniature.  It was about the size of a standard 
television remote control.  Well, maybe a bit larger at one end 
because of the battery.  That's the hard part, getting enough 
voltage to generate the field which has enough range to be 
effective.  My personal project took a couple of weeks, because 
obviously I couldn't spend full time at it.  I do have other work 
to do on the job, if I want to receive a salary.

The day my generator was finished, I could hardly wait to give it 
a try.  My experience with the office girl in the restroom made 
me more than a little nervous about trying my invention on just 
anyone, so I took it with me that evening when I left work, 
hoping for an opportunity to try it.

Like I said earlier, coincidences seem to have their own timing.  
That's what makes a coincidence so intriguing.  At the dinner 
table that evening, my wife challenged me to a game of ping pong.  
That, in case I hadn't mentioned it previously, is one of our 
non-sexual recreational outlets.  Our basement is primarily a 
recreation room, and our ping pong table is the major feature in 
it.  So downstairs we went without even bothering to clear the 
table.  

Our meal had been spaghetti and meatballs which Ann picked up at 
the deli on her way home from work, and which we had eaten as 
soon as we were both home.  So both of us were still dressed as 
we had been at work.  For Ann, that meant a ruffled blouse with 
long-sleeves and a mid-thigh skirt which twirled up and out 
whenever she turned quickly.  I have always really liked that 
sexy little skirt.

In spite of her small size, my wife is a very good ping pong 
player.  I usually have to be on my best game in order to beat 
her, and this night she was really hungry for a victory.  The 
first thing I knew I was behind 4-0.  So I called time out and 
went for a glass of water.  Actually, that was just an excuse to 
retrieve my new Remote Magnetic Field Generator.  I call it my 
RMFG.  This seemed like a perfect opportunity to test it, so I 
slipped it in my pocket and hoped I could use it secretly.  

When I returned to the table, Ann was impatiently prancing 
around.  "Come, on," she demanded.  "Quit stalling!  I'm going to 
slaughter you tonight."

I served my final turn, and she slammed the ball back so hard 
that I didn't even try to reach it.  Then it was her turn to 
serve.  I waved my paddle around aggressively, trying to distract 
her attention, hoping she would not notice I had my other hand in 
my pocket, aiming the RMFG at Ann as best I could.  As she tossed 
the ball in the air and swung her paddle to serve, I turned on 
the power.  Immediately, her body jerked.  The ball dropped to 
the floor.  She had missed it completely.

"Problem?" I asked as innocently as I could, even though I was 
quite excited at seeing my invention work so readily.

"Oh, be quiet," she snapped.  Then she served the ball, taking 
great care this time to make sure she did it properly.  Because 
she slacked off on the serve, I had no problem with the return 
and was still able, at the same time, to press the power button 
on the RMFG.  Ann stood quite still and simply watched the ball 
sail past.  

"What happened?" I asked.

"I think...," she paused.  "Don't you think it's terribly warm in 
here?"  Then, without any further commend, she laid her paddle on 
the table and removed her blouse.  "Maybe if I'm not so warm, I 
can do better," she laughed as she tossed her blouse on to a 
chair.  "Those long sleeves were in my way."

"No, you're simply trying to distract me," I complained, though I 
couldn't help but smile at her rationalization.  She thought I 
was admiring the way her breasts strained against her lacy half-
bra, which was also quite true.

"Well, if you want distractions, I'll give them to you," she said 
with a determined grin.  And a moment later her bra joined her 
blouse on the chair.  She picked up her paddle and the ball, 
shook her shoulders to cause her lovely breasts to sway 
seductively, then said, "Now, what's the score?"

"You have two," I said.

"No, I have four," she insisted.

"I only see two," I grinned, watching her beautiful, bare 
breasts.  This puts an entirely new light on ping pong, I 
decided, and I wondered how far this game might go.

"Forget it," Ann grinned.  Then she served, and I played the ball 
fairly.  It was our first real volley in the game, even though it 
was hard for me to focus on the ball instead of Ann's breasts.  
There's something special, as you probably know, in seeing a 
naked woman in a different context than where one might expect.  
Ann regularly undressed in front of me when getting ready for bed 
or taking a shower, but it was quite different to watch her 
playing ping pong with her breasts exposed like this.  For me it 
was a major turn-on to watch her breasts sway and her little 
skirt twirl.  There were times she was almost completely exposed.  
Beautiful.  I know, she's my wife, but I never tire of seeing 
her.

Eventually, in spite of all my distractions, I won that volley.  

Ann wiped perspiration from her forehead. "You earned that one," 
she replied, "but don't think you're going to make a habit of 
that."  She served again, and once more I activated the RMFG.  
She missed my return.

"Deuce!" I announced gleefully.  "I caught up with you."

"And I still say it's too hot in here," Ann complained.  Then, 
without warning, she reached up under her skirt and peeled her 
panties down her legs and threw them on the chair.  "Now then," 
she continued.  "Maybe we can get down to business."

"What kind of business?" I teased.

"Ping pong, of course," she snapped.  "What did you expect?"  She 
paused a moment, then tossed the ball to me.  "It's your serve."

I set the ball on the table and braced it with my paddle.  
"Excuse me while I take a bathroom break," I said, fumbling with 
the ball as I hid the RMFG under my paddle with the power still 
turned on.  Ann remained at her end of the table as I left the 
room.  A few minutes later, as I returned, I could hear Ann 
gasping.  She was backed up against the end of the table, half-
seated on it, leaning back with her legs spread and her skirt 
pulled up.  She was masturbating, thrusting the handle of her 
ping pong paddle in and out of her dripping pussy.

When she realized I was watching her, she threw the paddle on the 
table, jerked off her skirt, and said bluntly, "Get over her and 
screw me before I go mad!"

Like I said earlier, when a woman gives commands like that, I 
tend to obey readily.  Interestingly enough, we never did get 
back to the ping pong game.  Even so, I think we both felt we had 
won.

Somewhat later, after I showed her my new invention and explained 
it to her, my wife was still so turned on erotically that she had 
trouble carrying on an intelligent conversation.  She continually 
demanded my sexual attention until I was completely exhausted.  
Eventually, her repeated orgasms wore her down until she fell 
asleep.

It was the next evening, after we were both home from work, that 
we actually had time to discuss the RMFG and what it might do to 
enhance our sex life.

Ann wanted to look at it again.  So I handed it to her, and the 
very first thing she did was aim it at me and turn it on.  
Nothing happened since, for some unknown reason, it seems only to 
work on females.  Magnetic fields seem to know the difference 
between X and Y.

"Okay, you try it," she said as she stood up defiantly in front 
of where I was sitting.  Obediently, I aimed it at her, turned it 
on, and faster than I ever dreamed, Ann was gyrating like a 
stripper in heat.  "Don't turn it off," she pleaded.  "Let's see 
where this takes me."

I thought it would take her into an orgasm, but it did not.  
Instead, her craving for sex grew increasingly intense, but she 
could get no satisfaction.

"Please...," she pleaded.  "Don't stop...."  Then she was writhing on 
the floor, ripping off her panties and rubbing her slit with her 
fingers in violent attempts to satisfy her cravings.  Nothing 
seemed to alleviate her need, even though I watched her try every 
masturbation technique that I could imagine.  After several 
minutes of desperation, she cried out, "You're going to have to 
screw me, if I'm ever going to... get off.  Please, do me.  Please!  
Now!"

I obeyed.

Afterward, I asked, "Well, are you convinced now that it works?"

"I'm an easy target, and you know it," she grinned, still 
obviously having spasms from her receding orgasm.  "One look at 
you," she teased, "and I don't need your gadget, whatever it is 
you call it."

"RMFG," I explained.  "That stands for 'Remote Magnetic Field 
Generator,' and I'm convinced it works," although I decided it 
would be better to keep at least one little secret from Ann.  
Like my experience in the restroom with the office girl.  She 
need never know about that accidental encounter.  You can chalk 
off that lie of omission to essential clinical research.

"The real test of your RMFG, if that's what you want to call it," 
Ann declared, "would be to try it on some unsuspecting woman, and 
see if it would induce her to go after an unsuspecting man.  In 
fact," she continued, "it would be best if the woman was a priss 
and the man was a miserable wretch the woman would otherwise 
detest."

"A street bum," I suggested.

"Yes," she agreed excitedly, "a guy like those you see holding up 
a sign at the intersection, some homeless guy begging for money."  
She was on her feet suddenly.  "Let's go do it."

"Right now?"

"Why not?" she asked.  "I'm curious, and it could be lots of 
fun."  She grinned at me with an evil gleam.  "We would get to 
watch them do it."

So away we went.  It was still daylight, and downtown businesses 
were just closing.  Beside a downtown park, we saw a grimy man 
sitting on a bench.  Behind the bench was a low hedge.  "Let's 
park here and go hide behind that bench," Ann suggested.  She was 
really getting into this adventure, I decided, so I agreed.  The 
hedge was great, and we were well concealed behind it.  We still 
had an open view so we could watch the man and look for anyone 
who might approach.

"Look," Ann whispered, pointing down the street.  "There's a bus 
stop on the next corner, so someone's bound to come by here 
soon."

Her assumption was correct, and our quest couldn't have been more 
successful.  She descended from the bus wearing a business suit 
and carrying an attaché case.  She was tall and dignified, 
appearing to be maybe a lawyer or perhaps a real estate agent.  
As she approached, she pulled the blue tooth connector from her 
ear and dropped it into her purse.  No one else was in sight.  

Ann nodded her approval, and I concurred.  When the lady was only 
three or four steps away before reaching the man, he held up his 
sign.  The woman frowned and stepped close to the curb, obviously 
trying to avoid him.  I pressed the power button on the RMFG.

She stopped instantly, clasping her free hand to her breast as if 
she was having a heart attack.  Being overly cautious, I turned 
off the unit.  She heaved a great sigh and took another step.  I 
pressed the button again, then waited.  The lady took one more 
step, looked to both sides, then behind her.  I held very still, 
as did Ann, afraid she might see us.  Instead, she zeroed in on 
the bum, her eyes focused only on him as she approached the 
bench.  I wish I could have seen his face, for he certainly sat 
upright in a hurry.  She dropped her purse and attaché case, 
lifted her skirt to reveal her legs, then did a little bump and 
grind right in front of that dirty old man.  He started to rise 
to his feet but, without warning, she grabbed him and dragged him 
right through the hedge, not three feet from where we were 
hiding.  She never saw us.  Neither did the man.  He was so taken 
aback by the woman's attack that he didn't look anywhere except 
at her.  And she was something!

In less time than it takes me to tell this, she shucked out of 
her pantyhose and jerked down the man's pants.  Just that quick, 
she threw him flat of his back on the grass and mounted him, 
impaling herself on his erection while kissing his bearded face 
like he was her long-lost lover, the gallant prince of whom fairy 
tales are made.  It was obvious that he had the equipment she 
needed, and she would allow nothing to prevent her from using his 
tool to the best advantage.

Ann nodded, and we quietly slipped away, quickly returning to our 
car and driving away before we could be linked in any way to 
whatever might happen next.  Later that night, the 11:00 news 
reported that police had cited a woman for being overly 
sympathetic with the needs of the urban poor.  Details were 
withheld concerning the specific actions the woman had taken, but 
witnesses indicated she was quite energetic in her philanthropy.

After laughing heartily, Ann and I finally drifted off to sleep 
while trying to imagine future uses for the invention.

~~~~~

Continued in Chapter 04



  
Chapter 03 - The Remote