by Ryder, H
TC: “Help, I need help” I’m not exaggerating either.
PF: “Haven’t I been telling you that for years, what for now?” She’ll love this challenge.
TC: “Daniel, I can’t concentrate” I wonder if there’s a pill I can take, shake the thought away, nothing a cup of tea won't cure, or at the very least calm.
PF: “I’m sending over some Agent Provocateur by bike messenger, I’m guessing it's an emergency” she's good, very good.
TC: “You went lingerie shopping for me?” She’s very, very good. Next bottle is on me.
PF: “I always keep new underwear in my drawer at work, just in case” It's for that girl in advertising she likes? She’s good.
TC: “Is that Pete's ‘tip of the week’? She should write for Cosmo.
PF: “Most women do it Tharie” really? Bloody hell, all I have in mine is lip balm, a horse magazine and a box of extra strong plasters. Wonder why I’m single.
TC: “So why am I only now hearing about it?” I already know the answer, this is going to hurt isn't it?
PF: “Honey, you didn’t ever need this advice before” bloody hell.
TC: “Cheeky swine” true story, but she’s right.
PF: “You need all the help you can get honey, good luck” what does she mean? I won’t see him now until tomorrow.
TC: “Am I your new challenging project?” Do I really want to know?
PF: “One I’ve been planning for years!” What!!?
TC: “I need help don’t I?” True story.
PF: “Like no one else I know, just another way you’re so special babes” aaahhh, nice, I think?
I fetch myself a cup of tea, instantly feeling better.
Back at my desk I decide to send a text, and with my phone in my hand my fingers fly over the keypad:
TC: “Thank you for offering me a job Daniel” true story, plus he is so hot.
DP: “Welcome, you'll not disappoint I’m sure” that sounds leading, I decide I like it. Plus, he's very hot.
TC: “I aim to please Daniel Pearce” I mean it too. Did I mention how hot he is?
DP: “What are you doing right now?” Bet you'll ask me what colour my underwear is next, suddenly I remember, god no!
TC: “What are you asking?” Work for it.
DP: “Would you prefer I was just taking?” God yes.
TC: “Is this your idea of a sext?” Because I like it.
I have to sign for a package, it's from Pete, bloody hell.
DP: “Where are you?” Where do you think? I slurp my tea.
TC: “At my desk” need to make more tea.
DP: “I’m going to fuck you every chance I get” I confess to liking the sound of that.
I decide to try on my new lingerie, it fits perfectly, and isn't like any underwear I've ever worn, honestly, it's not a comfortable as Spiderman pants, but I won't fall at this first hurdle. Its fine black lace, sculpted to fit under my breasts not over them, just covering my nipples, and matching high knickers like shorts, with little black velvet bows on both. Probably to remind me to wear them together eh? I feel different in them, and fold them delicately back in the little waxed pink box.
TC: “Romantic. Is this what it's going to be like? You always getting what you want?” I like the sound of that too, what's suddenly gotten into me?
DP: “Always” that’s so hot, I’m actually squirming in my seat.
TC: “Well. I'm at work” true story unfortunately.
DP: “I’ll have you over your desk” there’s too much on it for that, always practical, comes from being a Brownie.
TC: “Think my colleagues might have something to say about that!” They’d love it, who am I kidding?
Need tea urgently.
DP: “They can watch” it’d be on You Tube, seriously.
TC: “That sounds interesting” it really does.
DP: “You have no idea” but I can guess.
DP: “Yet” nice.
TC: “You'll have to wait” can I? How far in a cab to his office?
DP: “You won’t have to” I hear in stereo, bingo.
“Tharie.” And I turn suddenly at the sound of his close by voice, Daniel is standing in the design room phone still in his hand. Everyone is looking at this handsome man, wearing a dark charcoal suit, looking gorgeous, and staring only at me. “Come.” He demands, well who am I to say no to my new boss? Without any preamble I get straight up and put my coat on, grab my bag, fail to notice all the faces agape around me, and hurry after him. He grabs me around the wrist and leads me to the lift without another word. Was I supposed to be in a meeting right now....? Don't care...
“You must have been in the building?” I ask as the door slide shut behind us.
“Close by.” He looks at me smoulderingly, and I melt inside and almost lose my footing and fall to the floor. Luckily the lift has a sturdy chrome bar wrapped along the inside, and I cling to it all the way down. Like I intend to do to him the first chance I get!
We arrive in Daniel's car to a modern building 'Pearce Hotel', slipping into an underground car-park, and we drive up a gentle curving slope into a parking space, there's only four spaces, all with initials painted on them, we park in the DJP space. Stan opens my door for me and I try to get out with a little glamour, but fail. Daniel takes my hand and we head to a lift with only one button, 'PENTHOUSE'. Bloody hell.
We say nothing as the silver box transports us up to the top floor. It stops with a hiss, I scuff my boots on the plush carpet, nervously, Daniel takes my hand and smiles at me. The doors of the lift open directly into the lobby of the penthouse suite, it smells of Daniel here. I take a lung full.
Dark wooden floor, a shiny polished round table in the centre, a huge vase of white roses sits on top, and a faint whiff of magnolia in the air. Daniel leads me through the first room into the open space living room and kitchen. We are on the roof, the whole side of the room is glass and beyond a decked terrace with olive trees, in huge grey pots swaying gently in the breeze, several huge glass lanterns sit around an intimate sitting area with table and chairs. Candles, huge and vanilla sit everywhere over the planked dark surface, and unlit fairy lights in the trees and small Turkish ornate lanterns sway on branches ready to be lit.
“Wine?” Daniel asks, walking to the kitchen and taking a bottle from the rack.
The living space is down a few steps into a massive wide room, cream leather sofas sit in a semi-circle around an ornate low table, and at one end a white velvet Chesterfield studded chaise lounge, its ornately carved black frame is beautiful, as is everything here. At the other end a huge black Grand piano, with a simple silver candlestick sitting on top overlooking some sheet music.
“Please.” I'm still amazed by the place. To the opposite side of where Daniel is pouring dark red into glasses with bowls so wide they could house a goldfish (thankfully not), is a bedroom with the double doors wide open so I can clearly see in. Bloody hell. I want this don't I? The bed itself is huge, the sheets black, the floor dark wood again.
I wander over to the window and look out over Regents Park, nice view. Daniel is silently behind me passing me a glass of wine. “Great view.” We both sip from our glasses, saying nothing. Then I feel his hot breath on my cheek, he hums to himself as he breaths me in, and kisses me feather-light on my neck just below my ear. A cascade begins, unstoppable from my ears to my toes. It feels like a warm liquid has been poured over me inside, delicate and divine, I tremble.
Daniel takes my glass from me and puts them both on the table, on coasters of course.
“Baby, are you sure you want this?” he whispers sincerely. I'm a little confused, I'm here aren't I? But he's just being respectful, and that makes it hotter somehow. He touches my hair, runs his fingers down my cheek slowly, always looking directly into my eyes, his pupils dilating to dark. He cups my chin and tilts my face upward to him. Holding me there, paused as if to give me the chance to react negatively to his question. “I'm going to fuck you Baby.”
/> “I want you to Daniel.” Because he needs my permission.
Daniel closes his eyes momentarily, and kisses my softly on the lips. Our mouths fit to each other perfectly, our tongues wrapping around each other’s, we both relax and our kissing deepens. He has the front lapels of my coat in his fists and is sliding the khaki twill from my shoulders, and it falls with a soft 'whoomph' to the ground where it's ignored. He has my cheeks in his hands tenderly, smiling, he plants gentle soft warm kisses all over my eyelids, down my cheeks to me ear. He bites my lobe gently and sucks me into his mouth. Oh God, this feels so good. My sex is scorching hot and trembling, the heavy feeling planting me to the spot so Daniel can work on me. Bloody hell. He takes off his suit jacket and throws it to the sofa (well, it's Prada.) I wriggle his tie to loosen it, get frustrated and pull it over his head. He grabs the hem of my padded shoulder sweat top and it's joined the parka on the floor. “Daniel?”
“Yes baby?” Baby? I decide I like that. He's kicking off his pointy boots and undoing my jeans.
“Is this how you get girls to obey, bring them here to clinch the deal?” I close my eyes, his mouth is kissing my breasts.
“Will it work?” He gently clamps his teeth around my nipples in turn, and another, intense almost painful pull begins inside me, from nipple to there.
“I've already said yes, you didn't need to do this, for me.” My eyes are shut, my head tilted back, opening my frame for him to enjoy, a welcome, a permission.
“This has nothing to do with work baby, it's you I want.” His hands are in my jeans, cupping my buttocks, squeezing and lifting me toward him. Our bodies bump together, and his cock is straining at the Italian wool. I undo his belt and slide it through all the belt loops and add it to the pile beginning to build on the floor. His shirt is next, one tiny button after the next, I pull the tails of the hem free from his waistband and let it fall.
Daniel kisses my nose, my lips, my chin, my breasts and bends to kiss my tummy, it's soft and seductive, my body alight and all my senses in play. He takes my jeans off on his way down and plants kisses all the way. His tongue flicks in and out of my navel as he grasps my buttocks hard, bringing me closer to his face. My knickers and denim come off in a flourish and he lips fine the spot, my small mound and cleft throbbing expectantly, wet and ready. He licks me agonisingly slowly, taking his time, flicking its clever end over my clit and I begin to build. He sucks my flesh into his mouth and an incredible feeling continues unstoppable inside me, beautiful, sweet, warm. He blows hot air over my sex and I almost fall to earth with the feeling. He reaches up and rips off my bra, my hands are in his hair, he is adding pressure with his tongue and my whole body bucks to him with pleasure, he hums pleasurably to himself. Happily failing to notice a small piece of hay floating slowly to join the pile of clothes on the floor.
Standing he grabs my wrist, kicking off the trousers onto the floor and both naked we cross the room, past the Steinway, “Stella.” He tells me. I didn't realise pianos had girls names. We enter the bedroom. Its cooler in here, thank fully. He lifts me up and carries me to the bed, laying me gently on the covers. And prowling in a predatory crawl over me I am at his mercy. He kisses me and his fingers continue where his lips once were, gently and quickly flicking a rubbing, my orgasm not far from breaking over me, his fingers slide into me, one, then three, agonisingly wonderful sensation drenches me. I have his huge hard cock in my hand, and fist around its magnificent form I flick my thumb over the crown, rubbing and sliding in the pre-cum on its end. His fingers move faster in response.
“Come inside me.” I beg.
“Wait.” He closes his eyes tight as his fingers thrust into me harder and slower, keeping my finality on the brink, disallowing me an end to his sugary sweet torture of my body. His fingers slip out of me, slick with my wetness and he licks them muttering happily. That almost sends me over but Daniel knows exactly what he's doing, and I fall back unsatisfied and yearning yet again.
“Please Daniel.” I beg him again, beginning to pump my fist along the length of his cock making a point I am hoping he gets it. He smiles at me, kisses me hard, thrusting his tongue into my mouth in a frenzy, tweaking my nipples in his clever fingers, my body begins its journey to fulfilment again. He sways over me pulling his hard penis from my fist, kisses my neck, and I suddenly I feel his cock engage with my waiting sex. He pushes slowly into me, all the way in, jerks to the end so I feel it hard inside me. It's delicious, and he begins pumping into me, slowly at first, my hips involuntarily raising to meet him, grinding into him and enjoying every single inch of him. Faster now, steady and hard, building, now unstoppable, I feel my orgasm is near, the sensation of my nerves jumping together gets closer and closer, the distance between my spasms of pleasure increasing in strength and getting repetitively near to completion. Then with a final deep thrust, he lets out a great groan emptying himself into me, and together we climax, exhausted and sated.
Wonder if there's room-service?
“Baby, what are you doing to me, I was supposed to be the other side of town?” Daniel gently sweeps my tangled hair from my damp face, and kisses me on the lips.
“From where I was laid, it was you doing things to me.” I wink at him, and kiss his beautiful lips so he knows I'm OK.
“Tea?” Bloody hell, I'm going to fall for this man aren't I?
“Yes please Daniel.”
Daniel picks up the phone next to the bed and dials room-service, as I appraise his tattooed buttocks. Very nice.
After an invigorating lunch in the nearby 'Pearce Hotel', apparently it's owned by the family, I return a little sore, completely satisfied, happy and smiling and tired back to the office.
TC: “Thank you for lunch” true bloody story.
DP: ”Until next time” god I really hope so.
Note to self, (and Pete), boys don't really care about Spiderman pants in a sexual emergency. Thank goodness.
Deep breath again, and I spend the rest of the day with a smug smile on my face not really concentrating on my work. Like a teenager in love, get a grip Tharie. I stash my new lingerie in my drawer, but I can't leave it there, it's got to be tried on again, so that's exactly what I do. I have quite literally never felt so sexy, that this man wants me. It makes me appraise myself, and begin wondering about things I have never had to consider before, like underwear.
My phone vibrates and right now I welcome a distraction.
TC: “Hello honey” deep breaths, it's Pete, she'll tell me what to do won't she, it's her job after all.
PF: “How did you leave it with him Tharie, is a relationship possible, or did you do something stupid and are now unsalvageable?” I didn't have hay in my hair if that's what you're driving at. (It was in my bra). Bloody hell.
TC: “Pete..!” How could she possibly know?
PF: “Tharie, what are you not telling me? I have a sense for these things, and let’s face it, you’ve not had a boyfriend in far too long, now, out with it!” She demands, and I can't say now, because somewhere in my head I’m a little ashamed I haven’t told her already.
TC: “We're attracted to each other,” I tell her quietly, though not quietly enough and everyone stops what they're doing and looks over, I wave them off good humouredly and they all laugh. Putting my hand over the receiver and whispering I tell her the truth. “He says he wants to fuck me!”
PF: “Great!” She says, “When? We need to plan your underwear.” what is she like?
TC: “Pete!” I scold her again, “what are you like?”
PF: “You can't sleep with that man with hay in your bra, or wearing your lucky Spiderman pants! Is what I’m saying.” I direct the reader to please see note above.
I would have been insulted and said so without a second glance back, but she is right, I need help. Sliding my finger across my screen I end the call with Pete, and begin daydreaming which is not like me. Not like me at all.
Tea? Definitely.
Later in chapter four, Monday:21ndoctobe
r2013, the end part.
I call and sort my evening out, it must have skipped my mind at lunch somehow, I feel deeply disappointed that I won’t be seeing Daniel until tomorrow at work, but Pete is Pete and she must come first as always. That's after the horses of course. Oh, and the cats. So, third really. Stop talking to yourself Tharie.
It's late by the time I get home, handing my notice in turned out to be something of a peculiar drama. Strange I think to myself, if they'd made it clear how much they valued me in the first place I might never have found this new opportunity working with Daniel but that's the way life is. And feeling very good about my life I change, feed the cats, pull on my wellies and head out to the yard.
George & Harry are galloping around their field again, its dark I can't see them, but I hear a thundering of hooves and snorting and puffing. They are enjoying themselves, I just hope they don't lose a shoe!
By the time their dinners are mixed and ready, they trot into the yard, in mild irritation, that the thing they were pretending to run away from had ceased causing them fake worry, and therefore shut down the mad moments. Heads in buckets, they settle to eat. I hear their shoes on the concrete floor of my yard, and happy that the correct number of clips and clops are present meaning all the shoes are still on. Steve my farrier will be pleased, he often tells me he doesn't know how they get their shoes off, in all his years as a farrier, no two have had so many re-visits. Told you they are special, didn't I?
It's already gone 7.30pm and I need to get ready for drinks with Pete. Stepping into the shower, I plan my outfit.
HC: “I may have had too much to drink” why am I not surprised?
TC: “It’s the creative prerogative, artists needs nurturing, and that’s exactly what Jack Daniels is for.” True story.
HC: “And I may have left my guitar in a cab” well that’s bad.
TC: “The one signed by Hendrix?” That's Dave 'Hendrix' McCarthy, from the pub, not the musician, his parents were fans. I can understand the confusion though.
HC: “Na, thankfully” good.
TC: “Don’t get into any trouble, or if you really want to, at least wait until after the single is released, or Mum's out of the country” see, I do listen.