by Jamie Knight
It felt odd sitting alone at the massive feast table. Actually, six long tables set end to end and covered with a bright red linen cloth. I felt like I was the last person on Earth playing princess in an abandoned manor home.
The stone floor was smooth and cold under my bare feet. It felt amazing. I shuffled them slightly, feeling them slide easily. I wanted to see if it would be any easier to moonwalk but restrained myself. Especially because this was the same moment in which Tobias reappeared carrying a lidded silver platter, looking more like a servant on casual Friday than master of the house. I loved a man who could cook.
Waiting a moment to make sure he hadn’t just gussied up take-out, I settled into the scrumptious food he had created from base ingredients. It was transcendental. My eyes actually rolled back into my head at the first taste.
“Good?” Tobias asked.
I nodded, past the point of rallying the power of speech and wiping away tears of unbridled joy.
“I wasn’t sure if you ate meat, so I hedged with fish.”
“Good call,” I said, pulling myself together, mostly.
It was actually. Fish was the only meat I would eat after years of semi-vegetarianism and trying to figure it all out. The decision was finally made when I realized that the vegetarian cookbooks I was trying to use, despite my cooking skills being the culinary equivalent of a black thumb in gardening, included recipes for fish.
A lesser factor, but still a consideration, was the fact that the main concern in terms of animal rights section of vegetarianism tended to be land animals. Particularly those which are farmed. Fish farms, while they did technically exist, were a recent invention, and seemed like a contradiction in terms.
We were starting dessert, hand whipped chocolate mousse with whipped cream, when it happened. A glob of sweet chocolate goodness had adhered itself to the corner of my mouth.
Before I could even think to do anything else, Tobias was wiping it away with his thumb. It was like a spark. The fire inside me jumped to an inferno. Before he could pull his thumb away, both it and the chocolate were in my warm little mouth. I grabbed his wrist and went to town on his thumb, showing him exactly what I wanted to do with his cock.
I could hear the zip as Tobias lowered his fly with his free hand. Releasing his thumb, I dropped to my knees so hard it almost hurt and replaced his thumb with his rock-hard cock. I sucked it like his cum tasted like pumpkin spice, battering my throat in the process. I didn’t care. I loved it.
I was also quite impressed by how big his cock was. It was actually a struggle to get the whole thing into my mouth. It couldn’t have been too comfortable keeping all that in his pants. I felt happy and proud to be able to give him relief. It wasn’t until later that I realized that it must have been me who had made him hard.
His sweet cum flooded my mouth. I swallowed it all down, wiping any extra from my lips and sucking my fingers clean. His hand touched my shoulders, bare in the flapper dress I was still wearing. The neo-Buchanan thing was basically my costume for the show. It was like his fingers were electric, sending a charge through me, stoking my libido in ways I had forgotten were possible.
Taking me into his strong arms, one around my back, one under my ass, he sat me down on the edge of the table, kissing me passionately. Our tongues not competing or fighting for dominance, rather moving in perfect sync, giving as good as they got. I could feel my pussy getting even wetter.
Laying me down, the polished hardwood table was cold against my nearly bare back, having much the same effect as the stone floor on my feet. It was like the entire room was designed to arouse the senses. Taking up the nearest chair, Tobias gently cradled my left foot. I was about to ask what he was doing, but the question turned into a moan on its way from my brain to my mouth.
Tobias was wonderfully massaging my foot in both of his soft, strong hands. I could feel every muscle in my body relaxing. My legs parted by themselves, the cool air reaching my inner thighs.
Tobias tended the same treatment to my left foot, working me to a near frenzy, my pussy aching for him. Not leaving me in my suffering, Tobias ran his hands up my legs, disappearing up the hem of my dress. Gently taking the sides of my panties between his fingers, he pulled them slowly down, giving me another long caress from hips to feet, laying them beside me on the table.
Placing my ankles on his shoulders, he pushed my skirt up around my hips, unveiling my ready pussy. Stroking it a few times to get me used to the contact, he lowered his head between my quivering thighs and placed a long, gentle lick the length of my pussy, lightly spiralling the very tip of his tongue on my clit. I moaned so loudly that it echoed off the high walls.
Giving me a few more licks, he turned to hard spirals, covering every inch of my pussy going the other way. Covering all the bases, I guess. Not that I was about to complain. I gasped slightly as he introduced a finger, slipping it easily inside me. He licked me hard, hitting all the right spots as he worked me deep, coaxing me to a massive, body-rocking orgasm. My mind went blank in a blast of pure white light.
I really could have cried. What might well have been the most beautiful moment of my life, interrupted by the all too familiar ping of a text notification. I was already with Tobias, beautiful Tobias, and Mercy always called. Which really only left one option.
“Bastard,” Tobias spoke, getting to my phone before I could.
“What did he say?”
“Cutting out the insults to both of us, he is threatening to go to the show and tell them about our relationship. He must have some sort of spyware software on your phone or computer. He seems to know everything that I’ve been doing.”
“Fuck. What are you writing?”
“Who I am and that his pathetic threats are completely empty, seeing as I am the show and any emails to the producer of the show would go directly to me. It was a condition of me taking over the production.”
“Oh, my God!”
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll protect you. I promise.”
Putting my phone back in my purse, he scooped me up superhero style and kissed me softly as he carried me toward the stairs.
The bed was amazing. It was a massive Edwardian four-post specimen, complete with a curtain going all the way around it, which were open at the time. Setting me down on the edge of the bed, much like he had with the table, he took down the thin straps of the dress, caressing my shoulders in the process.
The dress made wearing a bra pretty much untenable. With my panties still laid neatly on the table and my shoes by the door, I was very much naked, sitting on the edge of the beautiful bed as Tobias stood over me like a benevolent force. I had expected him to get right down to business, which made it even more surprising, to the point of a soft gasp, when he caressed his hands back up the length of my body and took hold of my face. Bending at the waist so we were even, Tobias kissed me. Gentle pecks at first, escalating into open mouth Frenching. His hands never leaving my face as he did so.
Pulling back so he could meet my eyes, he took both of my hands by the wrist and placed them on his tasteful leather belt. Willing my fingers not to tremble, I worked the buckle loose. Leaving both sides hanging, I stared at the button and fastener combo found on all good dress pants. The easiest part was the zipper, his pants moving easily down his legs, the Bruno Mali’s he was known for sat beside my Flapper heels by the door.
His cock pressed against the inside of his silk boxer shorts, yearning to break free in the long dark tea-time of the soul. I left it where it was for a moment as I started on the buttons of his matching Crimson silk shirt. It was a sudden and deep relief that I had never seen him wear a tie. Instead, he opted to have the top two buttons of his luxurious, and apparently color-coded, shirts open.
Leaving him standing in naught but his beautiful boxers and strange necklace as well as his rings, I sensuously relieved him of the first. I had strong, personal qualms about messing with someone else’s talismans.
It was magnificent, massive, and r
eturned to full hardness. I wasn’t quite sure how it was going to go into my pussy, but I was more than interested to find out. Such a perfect cock deserved a warm and loving home.
I lay back on the bed, placing my feet on the edge of the bed, legs wide, spreading my pussy lips with both hands. Moving in with kisses and affection, Tobias mounted me. He hooked my ankles over his elbows without me even noticing. He also had the head of his cock buried in my pussy, which I noticed with great interest.
He didn’t fuck me. Not at first. He just sort of hovered, hanging out near my clit, letting me know he was there and could start fucking me at any moment but not actually letting me know exactly when. Just when I was just about to weep with anticipation, it happened.
In one smooth motion, he was right up in me and pumping steady, angling just right so the considerable bulk of his cock met with both my clit and my g-spot as he pumped my sweet pussy. I moaned with both surprise and delight.
Taking hold of his arms on either side of me, I did my best to move with him. I matched the ebb and flow of his thrusts, stroking my pussy along the shaft of his cock as much as he was sliding his cock in my pussy. I could tell by his expression that this was both a new and an agreeable experience.
I came first, waves of pleasure rippling through me like a freight train. As I tried to collect myself, Tobias withdrew his cock, replacing it with four of his fingers approximating the size, and fed me his delicious cum, dropping the entire payload into my eager mouth.
“What else do you like?” He asked when we had both rallied.
By way of reply, I turned over, staying at the edge of the bed, my feet over the edge, in doggy position. Placing a warm hand on the small of my back, he moved behind me and stroked the warm head of his cock against my tender, pink folds. I moaned at the sensation, eagerly waiting for him to give me so much more. Moving his hands to my hips, he pushed in. Sinking about half the length of his cock inside before stopping again.
I breathed deeply in and out, reacquainting myself with the glory that was him and his beautiful cock. When I was ready, I nodded my consent and he started to move, rhythmically pumping inside me. His cock was wonderfully snug inside my pussy, making me feel every inch of his power and every last centimeter of his movements. I could have cried with pure joy. No man in my life had pleasured me nearly so deeply.
Rallying my will and strength, I once again started to move. Rocking myself back to meet each of his silken thrusts, hoping it felt as good for him as it did for me. I kicked myself for not paying more attention when Mercy tried to tell me about Kegels.
We started to cum in the same moment. Every muscle and nerve in my body was reacting in unison to the electrical storm in my head as Tobias pulled out and came on my back. He cleaned me up with wet wipes from the box by the bed.
Getting me under the heavy duvet, Tobias joined me in the bed and kissed me on the cheek before we both snuggled in for a long winter’s nap.
Chapter Nine
Tobias
I should have been worried. There were definite social repercussions for that sort of thing. The show could end, and I could lose a lot of money if they found out. It could happen. All I could think about was the Spartans. The mighty bad asses with the all-time record for force. When threatened with the full might if the Persian empire, Emperor Xerxes listed in great detail what would happen to Sparta if the Persians won, sent back a one-word reply: “If.”
I looked at Addie sleeping beside me and I knew I had made the right choice. Hang the potential consequences. I had meant what I said the night before about the execs not needing to know. I certainly wasn’t going to tell them. If it should somehow happen to get out that Addie was staying with me, though I couldn’t see how, all I would really need to do was tell the truth. The hotel shut down for the lockdown and I was helping her out.
As it stood, there was no real reason for anyone to think that there was anything but a professional relationship between us. The show was meant to help her find love, after all. The contradiction was simply too much for most mortal minds to contemplate. I was pretty sure that Clementine suspected, but even if she knew for sure, Clem still wouldn’t say anything, even under torture.
The sound was soft and distant. Like the sound of a pick at the end of a mine. Getting the phone, I tapped to read the message. Hoping for the best but preparing for the worse. As was my nature.
Ratings low b/c of lockdown changes. Meeting @ 9:00 to address issue.
Suits coming.
Mari.
‘Suits’ was our private nickname for the board of directors. Mostly because they were pretty much interchangeable. They even wore the same brand of glasses, including the younger members with 20/20 vision, and went to the same barber. But Easton had a slightly better haircut. Something to do with the shape of his head and having a natural part in his hair.
“I have to go,” I said, moving out of the bed.
“Am I coming?”
“No need. It is just an online meeting thing. Studio stuff. Get up whenever you want. There’s lots in the kitchen,” I said, pulling on fresh boxers.
“Cereal?”
“31 flavours,” I said, kissing her on the cheek.
Slipping into a fresh suit and shirt set from the free-standing, Lewis-esque wardrobe, I made the commute to my office, way down on the first floor.
I was met with a “pending” notice upon logging into my company account. Stealing a glance at my Rickenbacker leaning up against the wall, I thought better of it. The last thing I needed was for the suits to see me hammering out some Motörhead before a meeting. Not the most professional look possible. That was something they cared about a lot more than I did.
It was like magic. The notice screen disappearing to reveal an eight-way split screen, including myself in the bottom right corner. It was kind of odd being able to see myself, being of the generation in which for a very long time, it was a big deal to get on a screen. The novelty part of that pushed the boom in the home video market for the first few years. Of course, back then they were the size of a bazooka and cost as much as a good used car.
“I have been running the numbers,” Maria started, phone in hand, “and things aren’t looking good. We have been struggling to adapt to the new reality. The digital dates have been working in theory, but the results aren’t exactly riveting. It is all we have to go on. Live dates are no longer tenable. On the upside, the digital dates are a lot quicker and cheaper to shoot, so we are both ahead of schedule and under budget.”
“So, we need to find a way to make the current format more interesting. To up the stakes,” Easton said, being a genius among the idiots.
“Exactly,” Samantha said, stealing Maria’s thunder.
“I’m really just happy we can keep going during the quarantine,” said Wilson, the elder of the board of directors. Everyone agreed.
“How do we make things more interesting?” Adam asked, sucking up to Easton.
“Well, I haven’t really thought about that. I guess we could try and make things a bit sexier. Addie is an attractive woman. Our demographic was supposed to be older women, who we actually do have in spades, but the show has also proven to be popular among younger men. The 18-25 demo in particular.”
I was glad someone else noticed. I also felt a slight pang of jealously, which really wasn’t like me. Of course, Addie was attractive. That was apparent to anyone who could see and to be honest I was glad the show was attracting a diverse audience, if not a particularly large one.
“I’m just spit-balling here but could we sex it up in a literal sense?” Samantha asked.
“How so?” Easton inquired.
“Well, how about we pick one of the guys she liked best from the sort of marathon of digital dates we shot for the first episode and set up a situation where they have video-sex. Nothing too explicit so it doesn’t get age restricted. Everything above the waist but still very sexy in terms of context and banter.”
I kept my rage in chec
k. It was something I had gotten exceedingly good at over the last decade or so. Besides, it would not be good form to Hulk out in a meeting, even if it was online. Instead, I just sat and seethed like an emo teen, trying to figure out how I was going to tell Addie what she was going to have to do. The consensus approving Samantha’s daft idea as swift as it was enthusiastic. The only absent voice was my own. I was out voted anyway, and I made it a point to know when I was beaten.
I knew Addie wasn’t ‘mine.’ Not in an ownership sense. This simple fact still did nothing to prevent me from feeling very protective of her. I knew she had been through a lot. It was pretty obvious. Perhaps not to others, but it was to me. It hung around her like a fog. One I wanted very much to try and clear if I could.
The computer was off, and I picked up the Rickenbacker since judgmental eyes were no longer on me. The almighty Lemmy used to say that he wasn’t a bassist. He was a guitarist who played bass, which was fair enough. His first instrument was the six-string electric guitar before moving to bass after moving on to Motörhead from Hawkwind, doing the opposite of most people.
Lemmy learned to play the bass on the fly as a member of Hawkwind where it was also his primary instrument. The general myth was that bass is easier than guitar, and most bassists never learned how to play properly. Rather than being a shitty guitarist playing the bass badly, he was a good guitarist who adapted what he already knew to a new instrument.
The rudiments of music were basically the same. This also explained why he sounded so different than equally good bassists who approached the instruments as basses. The secret to Lemmy’s sound was that he was actually still riffing, like he had on the guitar.
I wasn’t as good as all that. Though my many years of acoustic guitar practice did inarguably help in developing my bass technique. I tried to keep it hidden from most of my present colleagues, who tended to see anything remotely artistic as completely useless. I had actually put myself through college playing bass in a touring band, using my numerous reading breaks and free months over the summer to tour. I wanted to stay at it, but it was bad enough I was going to school for media production.