What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 4)

by Selena Kitt

“Do you?” she teases.

  With both hands on the hem of her skirt, she lifts it for me. Although she’s wearing her tights, the outlines of her labia are visible underneath the sheer barrier. I hold my breath and touch her. Sure enough, she is so wet the Lycra has a moist patch seeping through which reaches halfway down her thigh.

  She tries to pull the tights down but I shake my head. No need. I pinch the fabric between forefinger and thumb and pull. It’s surprising how easily it gives way, splitting open right at the crotch.

  Looking down at what I’ve done and then back up at me, she licks her lips and stares at me. Her eyes defiant and fiery, daring.

  I slip one finger into her, then another and she writhes against the doorway, panting and moaning. Upon steadying herself with her hand against my belly, she hitches one leg up to allow me better access. The sight of her drives me almost to despair but I will myself to continue.

  Meanwhile she seeks to free my trapped cock but her hands are impatient and shaky. She manages it after a few tries and the cold air stings against my exposed skin.

  “If you can reach…” She’s got me by the balls, gently directing me towards her.

  How? My initial worry subsides when she adjusts her angle and positions herself. Legs spread wide across my thighs, hips angled and one hand reaching up and hanging on to the protruding wood of the door frame. I now realise, she already knows it’ll work and I just need hold her steady and aim.

  She surrounds me tightly, despite being sopping wet. Before I’m able to wonder how best to move, my hips and hers twitch, finding their natural rhythm. A few times it’s dangerously close to slipping, but I continue to fuck her against that door, enjoying the soft moans she so desperately fails to suppress.

  Every thought in my head is aimed at putting off the inevitable, the release I’d been dying for since she gave me that look at the restaurant. The one which screams ‘I want you’ more than the equivalent words ever could.

  I kiss her forehead and nearly forget my purpose, continuing to push her closer with wayward locks of her hair tickling my face. Her free hand twitches on my back, nails digging in for grip but not finding any. She moans again, words fragmented by numerous hot gasps that hit my neck.

  “Ohh… I’m gonna… Harder!” She finishes with clenched teeth.

  The hand that was keeping her positioned and steady from the ledge above us slips and her back hits the door with a pronounced thud. Before I’m able to worry about hurting her she clings to me with both arms locked around my shoulders and continues to grind her hips.

  Lips hungry for mine but pausing momentarily as her body goes rigid first and then slightly limp. My wait is over, which is lucky because it would have been impossible to hold on any longer. I try not to make too much noise as I plunge into her one last time.

  Barely aware, something goes slightly wrong while the overpowering pleasure fills every vein in my body. Whether the angle or her sudden relaxation, the end result is that she ends up with cum dribbling down both her legs, almost all the way down her shins.

  She straightens herself, finding balance on her own two feet again. Then she looks down at herself and back up at me, one eyebrow raised but unable to disguise the glint of amusement in her eyes.

  “Tease me again at your own peril,” I chuckle.

  She steps out of her shoes one at a time and takes off the ruined tights, scrunching them up and using them to eliminate most of the evidence of what just happened.

  “It’s not that I’m complaining, but damn. You’re quite the animal when you want to be,” she says.

  With her hair still a bit dishevelled, she smoothes down her skirt and closes her coat up all the way to the top. Beautiful, filthy girl. Her hands move on to me, resting against my chest for a moment. I’m reminded to get myself into order and as I do she tiptoes and melts me with a tender kiss.

  “You continue to surprise me.” She smiles and turns to discard the tights somewhere out of sight.

  I could say the same.

  It suddenly strikes me that had I been an outsider observing a scene like this only weeks earlier, I might have made certain judgements about the people involved. And I would’ve been very wrong. I love her for showing me such beauty, or no – it’s beautiful because I love her.

  As if nothing ever happened, we continue on our earlier path home. Arms wrapped around each other, I’m acutely aware of the cold now. She must be freezing.

  When I look over I see her cheeks are a healthy pink and her expression content. She notices my attention and smiles at me.

  I wish I could take her home with me. And then I’d be tempted to smuggle her along on the trip – in my suitcase if I have to. In an ideal world I’d spend every single night with her, loving her in every possible way.

  Truthfully, I crave the sex as much as the prospect of knowing she’d be next to me while we sleep, to be the first thing I see upon waking up. And then I’d have a very hard time letting her out of my sight all day.

  I’ve never been this obsessive about anyone, or anything. I’ll have to assume that this is what love does to people. Or at least to me, because I very much doubt she’s nearly as juvenile and irrational about the whole thing as I am.

  By the time we reach her place, my heart feels heavy. I know it’s only for a few days, but it somehow seems like an unnaturally long time to be apart. Luckily I’ll have plenty to do in Germany to keep me occupied.

  She tiptoes and gives me a peck on the lips.

  “Let me know when you’ve landed safely?” she says.

  “Sure,” I respond.

  She looks at me for a moment.

  “What?”

  She shakes her head and smiles awkwardly.

  “Nothing, never mind,” she says.

  Then she tiptoes again and puts her arms around my neck tightly. Still a bit lost in thoughts, her warm face against me reminds me not to just stand there and do nothing. So I hug her back and feel just a little bit more torn between having to leave and wanting to stay.

  “I’ll miss you,” she says, “Good night.”

  “Me too,” I respond.

  She lets go and smiles again before rushing inside; taking my dilemma between staying or going out of my hands.

  III.

  With John away on his trip, my morning at work is slow and a bit bleak. Now that he’s obviously no longer working alongside me, Amanda has taken over that role. I suppose it’s a good solution.

  The amazing events of last night are still on my mind. Never did I think that despite all the teasing and flirting I did, he’d end up taking me outside. He sure did surprise me, in a good way.

  And even if I was sad our evening ended when it did, I couldn’t help but phone Jase; excited to finally catch up. Of course he wanted to hear all about all the work drama as well as the private stuff and it ended up being quite a long phone call.

  When I told him John had said he loves me, Jase reacted with apprehension. He warned me not to get sweet talked into bed with a guy and not to get ahead of myself. Of course I simply had to tell him that all of this had happened after I had indeed already slept with John and if anything I had been trying to get him into bed rather than the other way around.

  Apparently we’re both crazy and clearly made for each other according to Jase, who couldn’t help but laugh in the end. I’m still smiling recalling the conversation.

  Meanwhile Amanda tells me she did go to Gary and told him everything. And she feels much better about coming into work now that Dick (we’re both calling him that now) is no longer in charge. I must agree with her; the atmosphere at work is more relaxed now, for most of us.

  Sharon is the obvious exception, she seems grumpier than ever. I’ve decided she doesn’t deserve my attention.

  Around 10:30 I get a message from John. He’s reached safely, checked in and now has a busy day ahead of him at the exhibition, but he’s thinking of me and will call whenever he’s free tonight. This is all the encouragement I n
eeded to do something silly.

  My email, titled ‘Open when alone’ is sent around lunchtime from the staff facilities. Careful not to be recognisable in case it falls into the wrong hands, it’s basically a cleavage shot. Can’t wait for Saturday!

  Afterwards, I find myself back at my desk and slightly bored.

  “Cath, have you got a moment?” Amanda has appeared out of nowhere and sits next to me. Wonder where she’s been for the past 2 hours.

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “I was wondering if you’d like to hang out tomorrow night, we’ll have a few glasses of wine, some dinner. Just a girls’ night out, that sort of thing,” she says.

  “It would be nice if we could be friends…” She looks down, fiddling with the hem of her knitted dress.

  “Yeah that sounds like fun,” I respond.

  She looks up with a grateful smile. There appears to be more she wants to talk about, but she remains quiet. Perhaps she’s going to wait until after those few glasses of wine before opening up to me.

  Could we be friends? I suppose so, I have nothing against her personally. But what really rubbed me the wrong way was just how she seemingly goes along with anything that happens in the office. She’s a bit of a pleaser, careful not to make waves.

  But I would welcome a little distraction to keep me from staring at my phone all night. Wondering whether to text or call him or if I’m being too needy and should give him space, second-guessing everything I decide ad nauseam.

  When the day is almost over, I notice a potentially suitable vacancy on our internal system, an admin job, which looks like an interesting opportunity for me. Of course I’ll have to go through a normal application process and attend an interview but I’m determined not to ask John or anyone for favours. I’ll manage this on my own.

  I don’t hear back from John until 7:30pm. That’s when, in the middle of heating up dinner, my phone rings.

  “Hey,” he says.

  “Hi, how was your day?”

  “Uneventful, until… you know,” he answers.

  “I’ve been thinking about you. A lot,” I breathe.

  He laughs.

  “You’re evil, sending me an email like that. I haven’t been able to focus all afternoon,” he says.

  “That was the general idea, since I had similar issues after your little stunt last night.”

  I can hear his breathing change on the other end of the line. It’s more urgent, shorter.

  “Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that.” The tone of his voice makes me shiver, or perhaps it’s the memory he’s conjuring up that does it.

  “In that case, don’t pretend you didn’t like my picture,” I tease him back, “perhaps you should look at it again to remind yourself.”

  He sighs deeply.

  “Well now that you have my undivided attention and you’ve clearly ignored the warning I gave you last night, how do you suppose we resolve this… situation.”

  While he speaks, I put my half-heated dinner back in the fridge and get comfortable on the sofa. I’m definitely no longer hungry for food.

  “Well, you could start by telling me why you haven’t been able to focus…”

  “Well obviously, when I received your email, I had to wait until I had a moment alone before opening it, which I did hiding in the men’s room at the convention centre…” he says.

  “And then?”

  “Tragically I only had a few minutes because I was on my way to meet a supplier,” he continues, “but seeing your picture nearly made me forget all about that. You look breathtaking the way.”

  “Thank you,” I say, “Then?”

  “Barely paid attention to the product presentation the supplier was giving me and failed to get out of there without bagging myself some unwanted company for dinner. I’ve only just made it back to the hotel room with fingers itching to dial your number straightaway.”

  I grin at the thought of what else his fingers might be itching for and lean back into the soft cushions of the sofa. I remember only days ago, we made out here for the first time.

  “What are you wearing?” I ask, fully aware of the cliché.

  “Just a suit, white shirt but I’ve already just taken off my tie.”

  “Tsk tsk tsk, as usual, you’re overdressed. But I can forgive that because you do look extremely sexy in a suit…” With my legs stretched out, I cover most of the length of the sofa.

  “Before you take it all off, how about you send me a picture too?” I suggest.

  He hesitates.

  “And how about you unbutton your shirt for it…”

  There is rustling on the other end of the line, some form of activity as yet unseen. Luckily it does not take long because I’m not in a patient mood.

  “Alright you should get something shortly.” John still sounds a bit hesitant, but sure enough the buzzing against my ear alerts me of a new message.

  It’s slightly fuzzy and grainy, but there he is on the display of my phone, shirt open as requested and looking up shyly into the camera. He is so very clearly out of his comfort zone, but even so he still looks delish.

  “Mm, very nice! You realize you wouldn’t be wearing clothes for long if you were here. I sure am not…”

  Looking at the picture again, I can just about make out the typical business hotel surroundings of his room, white sheets, pillowcases and greyish blue fabric headboard behind him. All of it makes for a pretty accurate mental image.

  He deserves a look as well, so I quickly take one of me. Revealing ivory satin nighty with lace trim along the top, nipples visibly poking through the fabric and an angle which allows my bare legs to be in full view. The hem slipped up so high up my hip that it’s a wardrobe malfunction waiting to happen. Send.

  I know he has received the picture because I can hear what sounds like a sharp intake of air between his teeth.

  “You look amazing,” he whispers.

  “And what are you going to do about that?” I tease.

  “I’m going to have to insist on seeing you the very moment I’m back from this stupid trip,” he says.

  “Agreed. But for now,” I sigh into the phone, “We’ll have to make do hearing each other’s voices.”

  “You’re killing me, you know that! I never imagined I’d be this frustrated.” He sounds quite desperate, so of course I decide to play with him a bit more.

  “It probably won’t help your level of frustration to know that I’ve started to get quite wet while talking to you,” I say.

  “No, indeed.”

  “I want you to get comfortable and close your eyes. Touch yourself and imagine I’m the one doing it…” Even before I finish the sentence, his breathing intensifies yet again.

  “Only if you do the same…” His voice sounds strained and the rustle of sheets and bedding is audible in the background.

  “I’ve just settled down on the sofa. Imagining your hands skimming over my thighs, reaching almost to the top and then changing direction and heading up and over my hipbone and sides. I love how you touch me, you’re so much more patient than I am…” I close my eyes too and picture him lighting up his cold, impersonal hotel room.

  He is no doubt lying back on the bed by now, hopefully undressed already.

  “That’s because it would be criminal to rush. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are,” he says.

  I can barely breathe and let my fingers cup over my breasts which are painfully tense and starved for attention.

  “My nipples are so hard they’ve started to hurt. I want to feel your lips on them…” I moan.

  “Something else is hard as well,” he responds.

  “Would you like me to suck it for you?” I breathe, exploring the wetness between my legs with my finger.

  “Ohhh.” His groan tries but fails to drown out the repetitive rustling in the background.

  “Or perhaps you would like to spread my legs and fuck me deeply. You could be on top…” I say, “I know I’d like
that so much better than anything I can do with my hands.”

  The speed with which he’s stroking himself seems to be intensifying. With index and middle finger, I give my clit a few gentle taps before heading further down again and coating myself in my own personal lubricant.

  I’ve never been a great fan of manual stimulation, preferring a vibrator, or better yet, a cock to do most of the work. But the memory of how his eyes burn into mine when he wants me – just like last night – has done most of the warm up for me already. His ragged breaths through the phone are the icing on top of the cake.

  “Tell me what you’ll do to me on Saturday,” I say.

  He sounds utterly breathless when he responds and his voice doesn’t fail to give me shivers. It’s so very titillating to be able to hear pleasure in his tone. And the memory of what he looks like when he’s this high, oh my…

  “The moment I’m back, I’ll want to taste you…. your lips, neck… those gorgeous nipples of yours. Will you let me eat you out?”

  A loud moan escapes me as my fingers move furiously over my slippery swollen lips and around the protruding tip of my clit. His shallow breaths a clear indicator that he’s close too.

  “Of course, I’m yours to do with as you please. Damn I’m about done already!” I bite down on my lip and let my finger explore my G spot, pressing and rubbing faster and faster.

  “I wish I could’ve seen you play with yourself while you were watching me in the shower. To see you hard and ready for me, it’s such a turn on,” I say.

  I’m nearly there, but it is very frustrating that we’re apart. Luckily my imagination is vivid enough to see glimpses of his face flushed with lust and that sexy, lush body of his which seems especially built fulfil my every desire. I imagine him stroking his whole length while staring me down until I can’t resist anymore. I’d take him over the edge with my mouth, aiming for complete loss of control.

  “Oh fuck,” he grunts.

  The raw quality in his voice causes another wave of feverish excitement to descend over me. I press my thighs together, trapping my finger inside me and focus on joining him in his orgasm.

  It hits me with such intensity I scream into the phone in a manner that would’ve made a porn star proud.