by K D Grace
Like an exhibitionist, she opened her legs further, relishing his admiration of her cunt.
‘Definitely no ice down here,’ he whispered.
With a frustrated moan, she reached between her legs and grabbed him by the hair, squirming and wriggling until her pussy pressed against his face. This time he didn’t resist.
With his thumbs working along the bottom of her slit, he stroked and caressed and opened her while he slurped and nipped his way along the fullness of her labia. His tongue dipped in and out of her slippery cunt, circling and darting up and over her clit. Then his lips closed around her own erection and he suckled until she squirmed and bucked against the mattress as she came. He pulled back just enough to admire her spasms and grunted softly. ‘There, that feels much better, doesn’t it?’
Once she had caught her breath, she sat up. ‘I want to see your cock,’ she commanded. ‘I want to look at you, the way you looked at me.’
In the subdued lighting, his face glistened with her juices. As he rolled onto his back, he grabbed his T-shirt and wiped his mouth as though he’d just had a good meal. Then he lay back with one arm folded under his head. ‘I’m all yours.’
She knelt on her haunches, admiring him. His chest rose and fell with his struggle to catch his breath. His thick penis stretched restless and heavy against a muscular thigh, half hiding his full balls nestled in auburn curls. She ran her hand along his ribs and felt a shiver pass up his spine as she stroked the soft down that led from his navel to his erection.
He uttered a deep sigh as her fingers circled his thickness, warm and smooth against her hand. He was circumcised. A lot of American men were, she’d read. Somehow that made him seem even more exotic to her and more naked, vulnerable in a way she couldn’t quite define. She felt his hips shift beneath her caress with that almost instinctual urge all men have, no matter where they’re from: the urge to hump.
Then she straddled his legs and bent over him, her cool breasts relishing the warmth of his thigh as she took his cock into her mouth. A soft moan squeezed from between his lips. He reached down and curled his fingers in her hair as she fucked him with her mouth, intrigued by the smoothness of him, like warm, muscular silk against her tongue.
‘Oh God,’ he gasped. ‘Go easy. I won’t last long like this. Driving all day gets me keyed up. I’m not used to relief coming in such a nice package.’
She pulled away just enough to speak. ‘You make yourself come, then?’
The lighting was poor, but she imagined she could see colour warm his face. ‘Man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do.’
She gave him a long lick as though his cock was ice cream, then cradled his erection between her breasts and moved against him. ‘It makes me hot, the thought of you having a good wank. Do you do it here, on this mattress?’
‘Sometimes.’ His voice came out a grunt as he cupped her tits and found his rhythm. ‘Sometimes I can’t wait. Sometimes I do it while I’m driving.’ He half swallowed the last word and she bent down far enough to lick the tip of his cock with each thrust, in and out of the tight fuck hole she had created between her breasts.
She teased the head of his penis with little nips of her front teeth that made him suck oxygen in quick, shallow gasps.
He withdrew his hand from the back of her head, and she heard the sound of a condom being unwrapped. ‘I want to be in more than just your mouth,’ he whispered, handing her the condom.
Once he was sheathed, she mounted him, holding her pussy lips splayed so he could see as she guided his cock into her. She angled and shifted, until she could feel the soft nuzzling of his pubic hair against her smoothness, until she could feel the heat of him radiating up through her, warming her from the inside out.
But before she could thrust, he grabbed her hips and held her still. ‘Wait just a second,’ he spoke around laboured breath. ‘We have time for the niceties.’ His warm fingers caressed her goose fleshed breasts, his thumbs raking across her nipples. Then he moved a hand down over her belly to stroke her smoothness and finger her clit, which pearled against his touch.
At last, when her whole body ached to bear down, he began to thrust, rocking, moving in a serpentine motion that created just the right friction against all the right places. She whimpered impatience and began to ride him, grinding her bottom down hard against him with each thrust. She felt the delicious bounce of her breasts and the powerful pull, stronger than gravity, that caused her to lean forward until she was pressed against his chest, legs drawn up close by his ribs, her mouth eating his.
He gathered her to him, and rolled until she was beneath him, wrapping her legs around him and arching up to meet his thrusts. They were close, almost there. She could feel the tension building in his hard muscles until they practically quivered against her. His thrusts grew harder and deeper, accompanied by feral grunts and moans, to which she responded in kind. The truck rocked beneath them as they shoved and pushed.
When he came, his whole body shuddered as though it would break. She wasn’t far behind him, shoving against him and crying out until her throat was raw, coming as though she would never stop.
Dolly Parton was crooning Jolene on the radio as they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
The rain passed before dawn. In the morning the heavy feel of summer had returned with a vengeance. They slipped from the truck just after sunrise and made their way quietly to the deserted rest stop toilets. When she came out, he was waiting for her. He pulled her behind the alcove where the vending machines stood, kissing her until her insides buzzed with sleepy arousal. ‘I woke up thinking about your silky smooth pussy, English, and now my cock’s so stiff I can hardly walk. You’ll take care of it for me, won’t you?’ Then he turned her to the wall and lifted her damp skirt. As she bent over, she could hear him donning a condom. He fingered her pussy lips open and let out a low whistle. ‘As slick as you are I’d say you weren’t exactly thinking about England.’
With a quick upward thrust, he penetrated her, grunting his pleasure as he did so, reaching around her to stroke her clit with one hand, while the other sought out her breasts beneath her clingy vest. ‘God, you feel good,’ he whispered against her neck. ‘I could get used to waking up like this.’ He tweaked her clit just enough to make her sigh. She was already concentrating on the orgasm building somewhere deep in her belly, and he could feel it. He slowed his thrusting and let her pussy grasp and clench his cock with each penetration almost as though he instinctually knew what she needed. By the time her orgasm hit, turning her legs to jelly beneath her, he wrapped her in hard arms and, in a few more demanding thrusts, came with deep-chested grunts.
When the oxygen finally returned to their lungs and their brains, he wiped her pussy with the untucked hem of his T-shirt, the same one he had wiped his face with last night, then he brought the wet fabric to his nose and inhaled. ‘I have your scent, English,’ he held her gaze. ‘Even after you’re gone, I’ll remember it, and you’ll still make me come.’
The next day, she got her car fixed. After making sure her trucker was properly thanked for being the best Good Samaritan ever, they went their separate ways. Mark was suddenly a fading memory and life looked much brighter. She had no doubt that, even without olfactory prompts, thoughts of her South Dakota trucker would keep her coming long after she was back in England.
Productivity
‘You want me to do what?’ Alan’s voice cracked in a sudden bout of nerves that would have been completely unacceptable at the negotiating table.
‘You heard me.’ Victoria spoke like she had just asked him to hand her the stapler. ‘I’d give you a little privacy and let you do it in the loo, but you’d tell me you’d done it when you actually hadn’t, and then you’d go into this meeting with the muscles in your shoulders still like rocks and the acid in your stomach still on the rise.’ She walked to the door like she owned the place and locked it. ‘It’s my job to prevent that, so come on.’ She nodded to the fly of his trousers. ‘Trus
t me, you’ll feel so much better afterward, and you’ll be amazed at how much better the meeting will go.’
He folded his hands protectively in his lap. ‘I can’t just yank one off right here in front of you.’
‘Course you can. I’ve got a copy of Hustler in my briefcase if that’ll help.’
He cursed under his breath and scooted as far back in his chair as he could get.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Look, you hired me to improve your productivity, to make you a better boss, and frankly, you’ve got no outlet.’
‘I’m going to the gym three times a week, just like you ordered. That’s an outlet, isn’t it?’
She tisk-tisked him. ‘Alan, you told me yourself you haven’t had a good shag in four years.’
‘Three and a half,’ he corrected.
She waved a dismissive hand. ‘The point is, humans are sexual animals, we have sexual needs, and whether you like it or not, the fact that yours aren’t getting met interferes with your productivity.’
‘You don’t know that.’
She gave him a hard stare over the top of her Sarah Palin glasses. ‘Look, when you hired me, a part of the deal was that you do as I say. I told you I’m too busy to waste my time with someone who isn’t serious about taking my advice.’
‘I know, but …’
‘You knew my methods were unorthodox. You also know that I’m the best. I get the job done when no one else can.’
‘Yes, but –’
‘Then do it.’ She looked down at her watch. ‘You’ve got plenty of time. I planned it that way so you could relax and enjoy it.’ She raised a hand to squelch his protest. ‘Don’t tell me you need to go over your presentation. That’s rubbish. We both know you don’t. You probably have it memorised. I promise you, this will be much more beneficial than reviewing your notes.’ She nodded again to his fly.
When he still sat frozen in his seat, she heaved a busty sigh, grabbed a chair and pulled it in front of his. ‘If it’ll help, I’ll do it with you. Will that be better?’ She was already pulling her pencil skirt up over her hips to reveal red lace suspenders and knickers that were barely there. All at once it felt like the air had gone out of the office, and the sudden bulge in his trousers threatened to blow a seam.
‘There. You see?’ She nodded to his expanding package. ‘If it takes no more than a look at my knickers to make you hard, then I’d say I’ve proven my point.’ She unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a matching bra. ‘Hope you don’t mind, but when I masturbate, I like to play with my breasts.’
Play with her breasts! Bloody hell! For a terrifying moment, he thought he would lose control and come right there in his trousers.
‘Breathe,’ she commanded, as she reached behind her to undo her bra. ‘There’s no rush. Take your time. Enjoy it.’ She released full breasts topped with gumdrop nipples, and her gaze dipped again to his crotch. ‘If you don’t relieve the pressure down there, you’ll rip the zipper out.’
This time, he obeyed, struggling first with his belt, which threatened to defeat him now that all the blood had left his brain and rushed to his cock.
‘Relax.’ Her voice was suddenly thicker, lazier, like she’d just gotten out of bed. ‘There’s nothing to be nervous about. Your task is to enjoy yourself.’ She cupped her breasts and began to knead, stroking the length of her nipples between thumbs and forefingers. ‘You’re the boss, remember? All good bosses have their secret weapons, and sex is the very best one, I promise you.’
‘But with myself?’ He sucked oxygen between his teeth as his cock sprang free, pointing accusingly toward Victoria’s haughty nipples.
‘Sex is sex. It doesn’t matter if it’s a solo job, as long as it gets results.’ Her eyes locked on his erection. ‘Now stroke it, the way you like most. You do have a favourite method, don’t you, a way that makes you come best? Most people do, at least the ones who are honest.’
‘You make all your clients masturbate?’ he grunted.
‘If they’re not coming regularly, yes. You’d be surprised what a common problem that is.’
Even then he would have hesitated, but she wriggled down in the chair to get comfortable. Then she raised the half-dome cheeks of her luscious bottom just enough to pull the crotch of her panties out of the way and give him a view of the smoothly shaven split that began against the pale pillow of her mound and opened, as her legs splayed, to reveal dark, moist folds protecting the swell of her pout between. Then, the no-nonsense fingers that handled a BlackBerry like a surgeon’s scalpel slipped in between those distended folds and began to thrust and scissor in long, lazy strokes, pausing periodically to tweak her clit against the press of her thumb.
By that time his cock felt like a Zeppelin between his legs, and the weight in his balls was unbearable. He couldn’t stand it any longer. He began yanking and tugging at himself like there was no tomorrow, grinding and bouncing against the chair until he feared he’d split the leather. All the while, his gaze never left her pussy, where her thrusting fingers perfectly matched his rhythm.
It was all over in a few breathless seconds. He arched in the chair as though his back would break and shot a jet-powered stream of jizz arcing across the floor straight onto her smart, black stilettos.
But before he managed more than a flash of embarrassment, she stiffened against the probing of her fingers and uttered a little mewling cry that quivered up her throat and erupted into a sharp gasp.
Then she was kneeling in front of him with the box of tissues helping him clean up and tucking him in, all the while speaking a throaty string of encouragements. ‘That was good, Alan. Well done. Just what you needed. You’ll knock ’em dead.’
And he did! The impossible client was putty in his hand, and the deal went through with more ease than he could have ever hoped for.
‘You see. You negotiated from a position of power,’ she said afterward, during their debriefing. ‘And having a good come always puts one in the position of power. You’re the alpha wolf, Alan. You get to shoot your wad while others have to hold it.’ She paced back and forth in front of his desk, the navy pencil skirt now hiding the red suspenders and knickers. They might be well hidden, but he knew they were there, and that made it hard to concentrate on what she was saying.
‘Never underestimate the power of being the one who gets to come,’ she was saying.
‘But it was just a wank.’ He shifted in his chair, feeling as though he could use another one.
She turned to face him. ‘Was it?’
He blushed. ‘I came on your shoes.’
She leant forward over his desk, both hands flat against the blotter, leant so far forward that they were practically nose to nose. It took only the slightest dip of his eyes to glimpse red lace cupping her breasts, and suddenly he was uncomfortably stiff again. Her full, lipsticked mouth curled into a knowing smile. ‘Doesn’t matter. You made me come, didn’t you?’
‘Did you masturbate after you got home last night?’ It was the first question she asked him the next morning when they were settled into his office for a look at the day’s agenda.
‘God, Victoria, couldn’t you wait until I’ve at least had my tea?’
‘Well? Did you?’
He fiddled with his laptop, hoping she wouldn’t notice the rising blush. ‘I did,’ came the curt reply. Twice, in fact, but he didn’t tell her that. He felt a surge in his trousers as he recalled thinking about her while he yanked and stroked and cupped himself to two more big ones before he fell asleep, and then the rest of the night he fucked her in the dream world. God, he hoped she didn’t ask any more questions.
‘Good, excellent. Good work, Alan. I think we’re making some real progress here. I’m very pleased with your success.’
He didn’t know how the woman did it, but somehow she made him feel really proud to be such a good wanker.
There was no more mention of masturbation for the rest of the week. She went with him to the warehouse and took lots of notes. She checked t
he filing systems and took even more notes. She questioned him about his preparations for a big meeting early next week. And every night, after he got home, he masturbated, imagining her mouth on his cock, imagining coming with his cock pressed between the swell of her tits, imagining her bent over his desk, skirt hiked, knickers pushed aside to reveal her pussy, all swollen and pouting and gagging for him.
When the day of the big meeting came, they sat facing each other in his office, her with her legs crossed demurely to support the notepad she’d been writing on. She scribbled something across the page then smiled up at him. ‘I’ll trust you to go off to the loo for a little privacy this time, if you’d like.’
But he was already undoing his belt. ‘Not necessary. When a man’s come on a woman’s shoes, a certain bond develops between them, don’t you think?’
She chuckled softly. ‘Good point.’ Almost as though it had a mind of its own, her hand moved over her jacket to brush against her breasts. Nearly unnoticeable beneath the power suit, her hips shifted against the seat and she sat forward slightly as though she were anticipating his presentation. As he released his rapidly expanding cock and squirmed to free his balls into the cup of one hand, her eyes never left his crotch. She sat quietly with her legs still crossed. One hand had moved inside her jacket and he imagined she was stroking an erect nipple through the silk blouse.
‘That’s good, Alan. Well done,’ she whispered as she watched him thrust and rock against his hand. ‘You’re magnificent when you’re hard, when you’re touching yourself, stroking your balls. Everyone needs to come, Alan. They’re all waiting to shoot their wad. But only the alpha wolves get to come. Remember that. Only the alpha wolves.’
Her jacket had fallen open to reveal her enthusiastic kneading of her breasts, the hard pinching of her nipples, and the obvious fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra. She fumbled with the buttons on her blouse and ran a hand inside. A sigh trembled over her lips as her hand cupped and kneaded bare flesh.