Sharing Nicely

by Blisse, Victoria

  It’s very difficult to make yourself comfortable on an office floor. It’s even more difficult to make yourself comfortable enough to masturbate, but I did my best. I leant back on my right arm and moved my left hand between my thighs. I’m very left-handed. If I ever broke it I’d be lost and sexually frustrated too.

  I spread my thighs and ignored the catch of his breath and the sound of him moving in his chair. I imagined I was alone and I sought out a fantasy to fuel me further. I didn’t have many because I never really got the opportunity to masturbate as much as I’d have liked. Normally I’d read a book or watch a porn clip to get me off. I was usually too lazy to think of my own sexy stories.

  There was one fantasy that I could conjure up and never got bored of. It was incredibly dirty and I was always shocked that I’d get off on something so filthy. Before I even began to tell myself the story I felt my pussy clench with anticipation. I ran my finger over my knickers, just brushed over my clit and lips and felt how damp the material was already. I was sure Richard could see the dampness from his chair.

  In my fantasy I was walking through the local park. It was just after sunset and darkness was falling softly. I heard the calling birds quieten and I focused in on the clap of my heels against the concrete. I’d almost be at the gate, close to being on the street and almost home when a hand would cover my mouth and I’d be dragged into the bushes.

  I would never get a proper look at the man handling me, but in my mind it would be someone I knew, someone I trusted and someone who wanted to push my desires to the limits. The mystery man was tall and strong and he kissed me through the wool of his balaclava as passion exploded in the fantasy as well as inside me. I slipped my fingers into my knickers and felt how wet I was. I went back to my fantasy, pressed my fingers to my clit and imagined that I could hear the ripping sound as the man of my dreams ripped my T-shirt and revealed my bra-clad breasts and mauled them with his hands. The sounds from my dream mixed with that of reality, my deep breathing, Richard’s breath hitching and the rustle of clothes displaced. Then I felt thick fingers forced into my knickers in my fantasy and I mewled in anticipation of the unknown.

  My lover pushed me down into the mud and the mulch of the border and regardless of the path running by where anyone could have walked past, that guy fucked me. He ripped down my underwear, knelt behind me and pushed his hefty cock into me. I heard the grunts and moans of my lover as if he were there in the room, and as my orgasm approached, I realised that it was Richard groaning.

  I opened my eyes for a split second and saw his trousers were opened, his hard, pink cock cradled in his fingers. Richard gazed right at my cunt and, as our gazes met, I felt shame and unexplained ecstasy run through me. I shut my eyes again quickly and got back to the best bit of the fantasy.

  Dream Lover pulled my hair, rode me and called me names. I wanted to be fucked like that. I wanted to be taken and wanted to lose all control. I imagined my dream lover demanding that I come. I exploded. My body scrunched up, the pleasure climax causing me to react, to shield myself. Contentment ran through my veins and I relaxed with a shuddered breath.

  “Not bad for a first time,” Richard’s voice snapped me back to reality. I rapidly pulled my fingers from my wet slit, sat up and tried to smooth my skirt down my legs. “But you did completely forget my last instruction. Are you working late tonight?”

  “Erm, yes. I planned to.”

  “Good, so am I. Meet me here in my office at eight-thirty and I’ll give you the punishment you deserve for not following my commands correctly.”

  I opened my mouth to counter with something vicious and stinging, but then I remembered that for the week I was his completely and he could do whatever he liked to me and I couldn’t stop him.

  I shivered then nodded, the rebellion sat inside me. My stomach bubbled with tension.

  “Okay, you can go now, pet. See you later.”

  “Goodbye,” I said through gritted teeth. He looked at me questioningly and I reluctantly spat out the word “sir” before turning on my heel and walking out of the bastard’s office. I buried myself in work that afternoon. I didn’t want to think too deeply about what had happened. Not because I was scarred for life or anything melodramatic like that, no, I was worried that I’d enjoyed it far too much.

  I had work to do, lots of work to do, but I couldn’t help but think back and remember the thrill I’d got from masturbating for an audience. Okay, it was an audience of one but I couldn’t deny it, I’d enjoyed it. Admitting that aloud to myself or others would shake the very foundations of what made me, so I ignored it. I had to remember that, ultimately, I was in control. Richard had got a lucky hand but I would win the game, I was certain. I wasn’t going to let him distract me from my goal, from my job.

  The time ticked by so slowly and I felt like I’d looked up at the clock every other minute. I was dreading eight-thirty arriving but I also couldn’t wait. What would his strong hand feel like impacting on my stinging flesh? Would it hurt, would it make me cry? I didn’t know. I just had no idea about what would happen.

  That was almost impossible. I made my living because I knew all the options, all the variables and nothing ever surprised me. I controlled every situation but I couldn’t control what Richard would decide to do to me. I was frightened but not that he would hurt me, I had no fear of that. Richard, although a bastard, was a gentleman and I knew he would honour the safe word if I uttered it. No, I was terrified that I would like it and end up craving more.

  At eight-twenty-eight I closed down my laptop, filled, then picked up my briefcase and walked down the corridor to Richard’s office. I took a deep breath and knocked.

  “Come in.” His deep tone resonated in the pit of my growling stomach. Something was definitely wrong, I was off my food. No matter how busy I got I usually found time to eat but I just hadn’t been able to face it that day. My tummy danced with nerves.

  “Punctual,” he said, as I walked in. “I like that but don’t think it will buy you any leniency with me.”

  I didn’t say a word. I didn’t have any in mind anyway. I stood before his desk and waited. He smiled at me, tapped at a few keys on his laptop then closed it. He put it down beside him. I guessed her had a bag or a briefcase down there as moments later he put the piles of paper down in the same place. He cleared the desk completely. It didn’t take long because, like me, Richard didn’t have much on there in the first place.

  “Okay, I take no pleasure in this—well, actually, I lie, I’ll take a lot of pleasure in this actually but really, I’d enjoy it much more if in future you’d just obey me straight away.” He stood up and walked around the table. The tailored jacket he’d worn earlier was hung on the back of his chair and I could see the outline of his torso through the white of his shirt as the light of the setting sun streamed in through the wall of glass behind him. He was well built, if you liked that kind of thing, but I was certain that my pulse was racing because of the heat in his room. I knew it had nothing to do with wanting to run my hands over his hard pecs.

  “Now, all you need to do is bend over when I tell you to and hold on tight. I will do the rest.”

  He moved the chair from between me and the table and gestured with a hand that I should step closer to the desk.

  “Okay, bend over. This won’t hurt, well, it won’t hurt much. Probably.”

  “Well, gee, thanks for the pep talk,” I mumbled.

  “Ah, did I ask you a question?”

  “No,” I hesitated a moment then added, “sir.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have said anything, should you? I’ll be adding strikes on to your punishment for that, pet. Now bend over, let’s get on with this. I have a bottle of Puligny Montrachet at home waiting for me and I’m rather looking forward to drinking at least some of it.”

  I bent over and held onto the desk. Insufferable as he was with his poncey wine and his arrogance, he was right. We needed to get on with it so that I could go home and forget about
him and this whole stupid affair for a few hours whilst I slept.

  I inhaled sharply when he pulled up my skirt and tucked the edge into my waistband. I almost screamed out when he yanked down my underwear with barely a care. I felt his nails scrape down my flesh. I wondered for a moment what I had become. In the course of one day I’d gone from being the ice bitch, the woman people didn’t mess with, to a slut who masturbated on the office floor and allowed herself to be spanked. How the fuck did that happen?

  I waited restlessly and worried about my arse. I was pretty certain it was one of the least attractive of my assets and it was aimed directly at Richard. It made me feel vulnerable and exposed and I really didn’t like it. That’s why I shuddered and wiggled. It wasn’t that I was feeling hot and bothered and maybe just a little aroused, definitely not.

  The first spank really did surprise me. There was nothing and then the air moved and an impact of flesh on flesh followed with a sharp sting that made me gasp. I didn’t have time to gather my thoughts or brace myself before the next slap shot through me then the next and the next.

  It definitely hurt. Richard was not holding back and my buttocks stung. I yelped with each new impact and tensed every time he pulled back his hand. I hated it and I loved it. I certainly didn’t understand it. But, with each painful slap, pleasure surged through me and lit me up from the centre of my clit to the very tips of my fingers and toes. I couldn’t stay still, each slap hurt so much, but I couldn’t wait for it.

  “Dear God, I do believe you’re enjoying this, you surprising little minx.”

  It was a statement not a question so I didn’t answer him. I wasn’t sure how to anyway. I was a whole bundle of contradictory emotions. A sea of passion raged and dipped, crested and broke somewhere deep inside me and I didn’t know where it had come from. I hadn’t known that I had anything of the like within me and I was scared.

  “Now, I’m sure you’ll think twice before defying me in future.” He forcefully yanked up my knickers, his fingers brushing over my sensitised flesh. It made me wish that his fingers were stroking me more intimately and I recoiled at the thought. When had I become such a slut?

  “You can stand up now, Melissa.”

  I stood up and stumbled to the side, the change in orientation obviously too much for me to bear.

  “Steady, now,” he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and held me to him. “Have you eaten today?”

  “Erm, I think I did, earlier,” I stuttered.

  “I know a great pizza place just round the corner.”

  “Mario’s?” I asked.

  “Ah, you know it too? We should go get a pizza. His pepperoni is exceptional.”

  “No, it’s okay, I need to get back to, erm, feed my cat.” I didn’t have a cat. Heck, I couldn’t keep a pot plant alive, never mind a pet. I just wanted to escape his touch before I did something stupid like kiss him.

  “Oh, all right but be careful, okay?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “Oh and I’ll see you here in my office at nine a.m. sharp. Don’t be late.”

  “Fine.” I pulled away from him and walked to the door, pausing only to pick up my briefcase. I pulled in a deep breath once I got into the corridor, then strode purposefully towards the lift. I had to get home, to get away from the madness. How could I possibly be falling in love with my biggest rival?

  I rushed home, ignored the post lying on the mat behind the door. I pushed off my shoes, left them by the sofa and continued across my solid oak floor towards my bedroom. The bed was in the same mussed up state I’d left it in that morning. All my organisational chutzpah went into my work. At home I did nothing and employed a cleaner to come in and keep on top of my mess once a week.

  I leapt into bed and scrambled around until I was under the duvet. I didn’t take off my clothes. I knew I didn’t need to. I just lay back, opened my thighs and pushed my fingers into the waistband of my knickers. I didn’t analyse it, didn’t think about it, I just knew I needed to come. The raw sting of my spanking had subsided but my buttocks still felt hot and tight and each time I rocked into my mattress the pain blossomed and it seemed to spur me on.

  The orgasm exploded unexpectedly. I was surprised by the memory of his hand clapping down on my arse. I yelped, clenched and released. The tension drained from my body and I lay, staring into the darkness. I waited for my thoughts to quieten down.

  I didn’t want to think, I just wanted the week to go quickly. At least I knew it wouldn’t be completely disagreeable, running home to wank had proven that. What worried me more than anything else was the effect that the week would have on me. I wasn’t sure I’d just be able to forget whatever happened. I didn’t want to be changed, I didn’t want to admit to the desires he’d awoken in me. I just wanted to get back to work. I had a plan and Richard Bentley wasn’t going to fuck it up. I wouldn’t let him.

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  About the Author

  Victoria Blisse is a mother, wife, Christian, Manchester United fan and award winning erotica author. She is also the editor of several Bigger Briefs collections, and the co-editor of the fabulous Smut Alfresco and Smut in the City and Smut by the Sea Anthologies.

  She is equally at home behind a laptop or a cooker (She is TEB’s resident ‘Naked Chef’) and she loves to create stories, poems, cakes and biscuits that make people happy. She was born near Manchester, England and her northern English quirkiness shows through in all of her stories. Passion, love and laughter fill her works, just as they fill her busy life.

  Email: victoria@victoriablisse.co.uk

  Victoria loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

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