by Bridy McAvoy
“Are you going to let me tell you, or not?”
Mia sat back, crossed her legs, and nodded. “Carry on.”
By then, everyone else had left, even Jim. I guess Marion was dragging him off to some charity do, like they do a lot, and the cleaners weren’t due for a couple of hours. Teresa excused herself to go to the rest room and I kept working. On her way back she paused in the doorway and I could see the change immediately.
“You want coffee?”
“Nah, I’m fine, thanks.”
My eyes, though, were out of sync with my mouth. Her skirt was a good couple of inches shorter. She’d rolled it over at the waist a couple of times and, even standing up, I could see the darker lace band that said she was wearing stockings. Her chest looked different too—softer somehow, slightly less full—and it took me a couple of seconds to realize she’d removed her bra. As she walked over to the desk she was crossing one foot in front of the other, really sexy, really exaggerating the sway of her hips. Full-on seduction mode, and I fell for it, hook, line and fucking sinker.
She returned to her position leaning on the desk and once more she bent lower and lower. My eyes weren’t focused on the screen, they were focused on her. I guess she’d undone a button as well, because her ti…breasts were clearly in view.
“I guess you like the view, boss.”
The way her voice lingered on the word boss, drawing out the s’s sibilantly, together with the view she was giving me, had me hard. She slowly stood and went back to the door of my office and closed and locked it, then walked back toward me, slowly. After a couple of steps her hands rose to the top of her blouse, and with each step she undid a button. By the time she returned to my desk she’d unbuttoned the whole thing, and pulled the two sides apart, revealing the inside slope of her breasts. She was hot—no doubt about it, she was hot. When she reached the other side of my desk I expected her to stop and walk around to the side, but she didn’t—she kept moving. Lifting one knee up onto the desk, her skirt rode up exposing her naked leg above the top of her stocking, and then the other one joined it. Her blouse hung down showing me both breasts in full, her nipples hard and distended, then she pushed the paperwork out of the way. She slid forward so she was lying down, her head at the edge of the desk, before rolling onto her back and bringing her feet up to hook her heels on the far edge. Her knees formed a vee as she spread them apart and I knew all I had to do was walk around her desk to see her underwear, assuming she was wearing any, and I had a burning desire to find out.
When I stood up, though, her arms snaked around either side of my thighs and she pulled me forward. Her head was right in line with my crotch, and she shuffled across the desk a bit further so she could angle her head back. I knew what she wanted me to do. I’d have been an idiot if I didn’t, and the temptation was too much.
“So you fucked her mouth.”
Simon went red at Mia’s statement, recognizing it wasn’t a question. She had to accept he was being brave, telling her all the sordid details.
“Yes.”
“And you came in the slut’s throat?”
He bit his lip and nodded, looking for all the world like the little boy who’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“So, was that it, the first time? You didn’t do anything for her?”
“No, she suggested we got the work done, rolled back onto her stomach, and slid back off the desk. She excused herself for a couple of minutes and when she returned she’d put her bra back on and was buttoned up again. Until we finished the presentation, she was professionalism incarnate. It was as if it hadn’t happened.”
“But it had, hadn’t it?”
“Yes, Mia, I’m so sorry…”
“Obviously that wasn’t the only time?”
He sighed and shook his head.
“How many more times?”
He closed his eyes again, not enjoying her Q & A, but Mia wasn’t doing it for her own enjoyment, let alone his. Anger was bubbling up inside her as he held up four fingers.
“Four more times? Making five in total?”
“Yes.”
“God, you’re disgusting. Where were these—in the office?”
He shook his head. “No, that was way too risky. We used a nine and dime motel on the edge of town. Then the last time…you remember that trip west a month ago?”
Mia’s eyes widened. “You were gone for three days? You mean you took that slut with you?”
He nodded, misery visible in every line of his body.
“So you had two whole nights with her?”
“Yes.”
His voice was almost breaking and she paused to reach for her wine, her hand shaking from the rage building inside her, but she was determined not to let that show—too much. Mia sat still, sipping her wine for a couple of minutes, her eyes fixed on his face, watching the play of emotions. He was dejected and miserable—she could see that—then, as she remained silent, his eyes filled with something else. She wasn’t sure if it was remorse or hope, but it was one of the two. Then as she remained quiet, his eyes clouded over as if in pain. Good. She hoped he was in pain after the pain she was in.
“I want the details.”
“What?”
“I told you, I want the details. You can tell me all about the hotel trip out west and your two nights of debauchery.”
“Please, Mia, stop torturing yourself.”
“What you mean is stop torturing you. No, I’m not going to stop. I’m going to hear every last detail. Let’s start with that first night in the hotel.”
He paused and closed his eyes, then opened them again. “I don’t see how it will help, but if you want to know, so be it.”
We were having dinner at the hotel with a couple of potential clients. You know the kind of thing, plenty of booze and plenty of camaraderie. Teresa was, of course, invited to join us. I wouldn’t leave her out, even if we’d been staying in separate rooms, which, by now, you’ve guessed we weren’t. For proprietary’s sake we had, of course, booked two rooms, on different floors but, as I stood there having a pre-dinner drink with the two clients, I knew Teresa was in my room getting ready. They’d met Teresa during the day, but then she’d been wearing a business suit—very conservative, very proper. Nothing like the vision that walked through the door into the bar and paused as she scanned the room looking for us. As it happened, I was the one facing the doorway and saw her first.
I’m ashamed to say my jaw dropped. She’d been in the bathroom when I left the room with no idea what she’d chosen to wear. Her stuff was in a different wardrobe and, you know me, I don’t pry into things like that. The dress was teal green, and asymmetric, only her left shoulder and arm covered down to the elbow, the other shoulder and arm completely bare. The skirt line ran the same way. On the side where her shoulder was covered, it was almost indecently short. On the other, it was below her knee. She saw us and smiled at me then started to walk through the bar toward us, taking her time and putting every effort into the walk to make it sensual, as our two clients turned to greet her. Each knot of businessmen and, for that matter, women she passed, you could almost hear the eyeballs click as they stared at the apparition. Something seemed to be going on at her bust—it seemed to be moving a lot more than you’d expect. Then I realized the front of the dress had a lightweight ruffle, I guess you’d call it, attached at the neck line and hanging down over her breasts. It was that that was moving and exciting so much attention.
As she drew closer I also realized the dress was see-through, the ruffle performing the job of covering and concealing her breasts. The material was thicker from her waist to just below her crotch to cover that part of her, but there was no visible panty line. I found out later she was commando—only wearing hold-ups underneath—but at that moment there were probably fifty men in the bar trying to work out if she was wearing any, and if she was part of a group or available. I guess half of them probably thought she was a hooker.
Mia sniffed
but didn’t interrupt.
Teresa did her job throughout the meal. We were sitting opposite and she managed to monopolize the attention of the two men, although I did manage to get them talking about business on occasions. I was talking to the guy on her right and, out of the corner of my eye, I watched Teresa jump a little in her seat, and a moment later she seemed to shudder and then squirm. Her lips parted and she licked them, her eyes half-closed. Then she straightened and started talking to the guy I’d been talking to a moment earlier, while the guy on her left brought his hand up above the table to grab his wine glass. I somehow noticed his finger was glistening.
I guess I knew what he’d been doing, and that she’d been letting him. His hand dropped back below the line of the table and I saw Teresa jump again, and thought about stopping it, but she was smiling at the other guy. The one on the left suddenly developed a disgruntled look on his face and excused himself to go take a comfort break. At that moment I knew why he was disappointed—the other guy had his hand between her legs.
The meal finished a few minutes later and both Teresa and I declined the opportunity to join them in the lounge for more drinks and some dancing. Teresa signaled me, by rolling her eyes up toward the ceiling, that she wanted to cut short the evening’s entertainment, so we said our goodbyes and headed for the elevator. Once inside, she put her arms around my neck and kissed me gently on the lips then pulled her head back.
“I hope you don’t mind that I let them both finger me like that.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“God, it was awesome. The look on your face was a picture. I came for each of them, but had to hide it as much as I could. If we’d gone dancing I’d have ended up being finger-fucked again on the dance floor by both of them, and God knows what I’d have allowed you to do.”
I chuckled. “We can go back, if you like.”
“No, I don’t want a gangbang. I want you.”
“That dress is awesome.”
“Thank you.”
“But I can’t wait to get you out of it.”
She chuckled. “Why wait? You can chase your naked secretary down the hall if you want, as long as you don’t leave the dress in the lift. It might cause a scandal, and replacing it might make a hole in the expense account. It was expensive, after all.”
“Did you?”
Simon looked across the room at his wife. “Did I what?”
“Strip the dress off her in the lift and then chase her naked down the corridor?”
He shook his head. “The idea gave me a boner, but no, I didn’t. They had too many security cameras around, and it was still early with a lot of other people moving around too.”
“Did you still get the contract?”
“Yes. We had a meeting with them the following morning.”
Mia nodded. “Right, now back to the story.”
As soon as we got into the room I reached for her. My cock wanted to explode through my trousers, but she danced out of my reach and made for the bathroom.
“Give me five minutes, lover.”
I sat down on the chair next to the bed and tried to control my breathing, trying to bring myself back down from the need to ejaculate. She was a couple of minutes longer than she’d said when she slid the bathroom door open. She wasn’t in view from where I was sitting but she called out.
“Put some music on, sweetie. I’ve set a CD up.”
There was a player in the room, one of those things I tended to ignore, but she’d obviously pre-prepared it. I hit the play button on the remote control and suddenly Bat Out of Hell started to play.
“Bat… That’s a good name for her. Hell’s good, too.”
He closed his eyes again for a second and then carried on as if Mia hadn’t spoken, ignoring her venom, although she sensed he was glad it was aimed at Teresa rather than himself.
She’d obviously planned it, concealing the clothes she had changed into in the bathroom after I’d gone down to the bar. Certainly, she wasn’t wearing a green dress when she stepped back out. The black basque fitted her perfectly, and lifted her breasts up. The white lace trim made them look like they perched on clouds, and although the nipples were covered—her areolas weren’t fully—the coral pink crescents were peeking out of the white lace. The lace ran in lines down the sculpted garment that cinched her waist in, making her look slimmer and accentuating an hour-glass figure, then flaring out to her hips. Suspenders connected it to her stockings, and over the garters she wore a pair of miniscule and very transparent black lace panties. She was a picture of pure raunch. God help me, I wanted her so badly at that moment.
“Thinking with your dick.”
He looked up at her again and nodded. “Yeah, even if you’d been watching I’d have wanted her in that get-up. Knowing my two clients had had their fingers in her just made it hotter. I’m sorry, Mia, I truly am, but at that moment I couldn’t help myself. Then, when she started dancing…”
She danced from the bathroom door to a point right in front of me and smiled down into my face.
“You like?”
“You bet. You look awesome.”
“Would sir like a lap dance?”
“Yes, please.”
She danced a couple of feet away. “Don’t say please. I’m your secretary.”
“So, what do you want me to say?”
“Tell me what you want.”
My dick stiffened even more at that. “Give me a lap dance, and make it hot.”
“Yes, sir.”
She danced back closer, and put her hands on my shoulders, guiding me to lean back in the chair, then climbed onto my lap, straddling me, all the while moving her body, grinding herself against me. I was looking straight down on her breasts, presented for me by her basque, but when I moved my hands to touch them she grabbed my arms and pushed me back into the chair.
“House rules say you mustn’t touch.”
A moment earlier she’d told me to take control, offering herself to me, almost submissively. I guess I got reckless then, and did as she’d said before, rather than as she’d just said.
“I’m the boss. I make the rules.”
She let go of my arms and dropped hers to her sides, but didn’t stop grinding .“Yes, sir.”
“So, if I want to touch, I’m going to touch.”
“Yes…sir.”
“I now know it was all for the tape. She was recording it, and the tape starts just at the point where I tell her to give me a lap dance and make it hot. The earlier part of the event didn’t record according to her and her lawyer. That’s the start of the tape, and the missing bit is me forcing her to put on something sexy. She even maintains I told her to go commando down to dinner and not complain if the two clients got a bit touchy-feely. Lying little bitch, but I’ve got no evidence to prove otherwise, and they’re not going on the witness stand—they’re both married.”
“So you got caught with you pecker out, and she’s taking you to the cleaners.”
“About the size of it, yes.”
“And what do you want from me? Sympathy? A cuddle and a pat on the head to be told you’re forgiven?”
He winced. “Damn it, Mia. I’m telling you this because you insisted you wanted all the details. Do you honestly think I’m proud of what I did?”
“Now, no, but at the time, probably yes.”
“That hurt.”
“It was meant to.” She rose to her feet and looked down at him. “Don’t bother telling me the rest, I can work it out, and quite honestly I don’t think I want to hear it after all.”
After a moment Simon looked away, unable to meet her eyes.
“’Night, Simon.”
Chapter 4
Although she’d lain awake through most of the night, Mia feigned sleep when Simon softly knocked on the bedroom door. She didn’t open her eyes as he walked around to her side of the bed and something rattled as he put it down on the bedside cabinet. The deep aroma of roasted coffee wafted under her nose and her m
outh flooded with saliva at the thought of the coffee, but she didn’t stir. Simon stood there for a long time, she guessed staring down at her, and then turned and walked away. She heard the door click shut but lay still until she heard him on the stairs. Three or four minutes later the garage door below the master bedroom opened and she heard his vehicle pull out. As the door swung down, she left the warmth of the bed and moved to the side of the window then watched as he pulled the car up in front of the house, clearly staring at the bedroom window. She’d chosen her vantage point well and didn’t think he could see her. Then he pulled away and she sat back down on the bed, biting her lip.
It had been hard to sleep alone last night, but she knew there was no way she could accept Simon back into her bed, not until she’d exorcised the events of the recent past and made him atone for his infidelity, and for that she had a plan. First, though, there was the coffee he’d made for her, and then a shower. Only then would she pick up the phone.
It took her rather longer than she planned because as soon as she stepped out of the shower she felt the pangs of hunger deep in her stomach. Only then did she remember she’d not eaten since lunchtime yesterday. The idea of eating a meal with Simon had been out of the question. A large bowl of muesli accompanied by four different fruits and another cup of coffee finally put her in the mood to make the call.
Her friend answered on the third ring. “Hello?”
“Hi, Dayna, it’s me. Can you talk?”
“Oh, hi, Mia. Yes, I’m clear. Rube left for work fifteen minutes ago, and Sasha’s still in the bathroom. God knows what teenage girls need to do for so long before going to school.”
Mia could visualize Dayna rolling her eyes at the phone.
“We were teenage girls once, remember? Seriously, though, I need some help—your help—desperately.”
“What’s the matter, Mia? Are you ill?”
“No, it’s not that, but not over the phone.”