After dinner with Frankie, the day after Brad had informed me that I was no longer his personal client, I went to the gym in my sexy librarian outfit. My hair was up, my lips were glossy, I was wearing a sinfully skin-tight black pencil skirt that celebrated the curves I still had, a form-fitting grey cardigan over a thin white button-down blouse and black camisole, and my Let’s Just Do It Mary Jane stacked heels. It was the classiest way I knew how to say Let’s Get It On in clothes language, and it was also a nod to the many lunch hours we’d spent at the library in school. Although I didn’t expect or want his brain to function at the level where he’d get subtle references.
The poor guy didn’t stand a chance.
Unless he didn’t like the sexy librarian look. But I had a hunch.
I was also armed with a document, which he did not notice, because he was too busy devouring me with his eyes. His jaw literally dropped when he first saw me. His eyes slowly traveled down and back up the length of me. I stood there and let him take it all in. Eat it up, Brad Mitchell. Get ready. It was pretty great.
I walked over to meet him at the rear of the gym, near his office. It seemed like he didn’t want to be alone in a small room with me. I didn’t blame him. I was ready to consume him. “Here.” I handed him a manila envelope.
“What’s this?” He opened it and pulled out the page. “This better not be another bawdy questionnaire.”
“It’s a signed and notarized statement asserting that I will not sue you for sexual harassment, nor will I ever bring forth any kind of lawsuit upon you as regards our sexual activities, notwithstanding any legal protection I may require, in the unlikely event that you should physically harm or impregnate me without taking responsibility for the hypothetical child blah blah blah.”
“I need you to add that you won’t write negative reviews or comments on Yelp, Foursquare, Facebook, Twitter, or any other review site.”
“Seriously?”
“It’s free for people to write bad reviews and it’s really expensive to sue a business. I’m way more worried about negative reviews.”
“Okay.” I pulled out a pen from my bag and wrote in: In addition, I vow to never write a negative review of Mr. Mitchell or his business.
His voice said, “You are infuriating,” but his eyes said: “I’m going to rip your sexy clothes off.”
“Tell me to leave you alone and you’ll never have to see me again.”
His jaw tensed. He shook his head. He wanted me and I knew it and he knew I knew it.
Game on.
“Go wait for me in my office.”
I did.
I went into his office and shut the door. I took a seat on the bench, and remembered the first time I was in here. It felt like a year ago. So much longing. So much frustration. So many flooded panties.
I checked the time. It was just after nine. The gym closed in an hour. I hoped he didn’t plan to make me wait an entire hour. I tightened and released my glutes while I sat there. I didn’t want to waste time—might as well tone up my butt while waiting for him to put his hands on them.
But then the door opened, and Brad walked in. He shut the door behind himself and locked it. He reached out, pulled me off the bench, and pushed me up against the door. He kissed me hungrily, his hands all over my hips and ass. I stuck my hands under his tank top and he pulled back.
“I only have a few minutes,” he said huskily.
He pulled my skirt up to my waist, and for a second I wished I’d worn a loose babydoll dress instead so he could access everything quickly. But he still managed to access my panties quite readily.
“You’ve done this before,” I said.
“Not in here. This is a first.” He slid two fingers inside of me and groaned when he felt how wet I was. “Oh shit,” he whispered.
I tried to touch his crotch, but his other hand grabbed mine and held it behind my back while he massaged my clit and pressed his body against me.
“I’m gonna make you come and then I’m going back out there,” he said into my ear. “Okay?”
“If you insist.” I raised both arms up over my head.
He looked down at my heaving breasts and groaned. “You are so gorgeous. You know that?”
I didn’t answer.
“Do you?”
“Sure.”
“No really,” he said. He looked at me, with his hooded eyes. “I want you to know how hot you are. You’re stunning.”
I nodded. “If you insist.”
He kissed my neck and rubbed my clit with his thumb while sticking two fingers inside of me, in and out and around and around. I don’t even know how he managed to do what he did with one hand.
I pressed and moved my clit back and forth against his palm and he was so strong he could have lifted me up like that. Or maybe he was lifting me up. All my body cared about was trying to close the distance between us.
“You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that?”
“No. I didn’t know.”
I let out a moan and he covered my mouth with his, kissing me deeply. I grabbed his shoulders. I couldn’t not touch him. I was already so close.
I sucked on his tongue and wrapped a leg around his thigh. He moved his hand faster, rocked his pelvis against me. I contracted around him, rhythmically rolling my hips and moaning into his mouth.
He covered my mouth with his free hand right before I cried out, muffling my “Oh God, Oh Brad, Oh God.”
He waited until I’d finally stopped undulating before pulling my skirt back down. He leaned his forehead against mine and adjusted his massive erection.
“Let me help you with that,” I said.
“No.” He backed away from me. “I just need a minute.”
He had his hands on his hips as he paced back and forth, taking long deep breaths. “Don’t open the door,” he said.
“No. Of course not.” I stayed where I was.
He stood in place and then did fifty jumping jacks and twenty crunches.
I watched in awe.
When he was done, he was a little out of breath, and sans erection.
It was really impressive. “Wow.”
He nodded and signaled for me to move away from the door. “I will meet you back here in an hour. You can stay or come back, whatever. Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay…Thanks.”
He grinned and opened the door.
I’d never thanked anyone for finger-fucking me before. But I certainly meant it.
Chapter Thirteen
BRAD
Vivian had left the gym, looking impressively put-together and not at all finger-fucked, and then she returned to my office just before ten pm. I tried not to appear as though I was rushing the members out the door, but as soon as the last one had left, I told each of my employees to leave immediately because I had to “talk to my friend who’s having a personal crisis.”
“Is the personal crisis that she desperately needs your penis inside of her?” asked Marnie.
“No comment. Good night.”
“Does this mean we get to have sex with our clients in your office now?”
“Absolutely not!”
“How about the shower rooms?”
“Don’t even joke about that.”
“I wasn’t.”
“This changes nothing. She’s not my client anymore. Get out of here.”
I waited to make sure the entire gym was empty. I checked the change rooms, the toilets. I locked all the exterior doors and turned off the main lights and went back to my office, closed the door, and found the most gorgeous woman in the world sitting on my desk with her legs crossed and her hands resting on her knees, very lady-like and sexy as hell.
“Hi,” she said.
I went straight to her, my hands slowly slid up her body, from her thighs to her hips. “Hi,” I said.
She leaned upwards to kiss me, nibbling on my lower lip. She brought my hand from her hip to her breast, just like that time in high school, except this time
I was a man—a man who knew how to control himself, and how to control his woman’s body.
I caressed her soft ample breasts, and then I slowly unbuttoned her cardigan and peeled it off of her. Then I unbuttoned her blouse, slowly, from the top down, revealing her cleavage inch by voluptuous inch. She kept kissing me, all over my face and neck, sucked on my earlobe, while I removed her blouse and then pulled her pretty little camisole up and over her head. As I did, her long silky hair fell out of its loose bun.
She wasn’t wearing a bra. I savored the moment, staring down at her. She had a small beauty mark under her right breast, the rest of her was flawless. I put my hand on her breast and leaned down to kiss that wonderful beauty mark. She leaned back on her hands, offering her perky nipples up to me, and I took them into my mouth, one by one. I flicked them with my tongue and slowly sucked on them and kissed her delicious tits for what seemed like hours, while she cooed and moaned and shivered, until she reached for my rock hard cock.
“Oh my God, you’re so hard,” she gasped.
I pulled away from her. I still needed to feel in control, at least while we were in my office, even if it meant withstanding the most massive erection of my life.
“Let me touch you,” she said, trying to pull up my top.
“Not here.” I unzipped the back of her skin-tight skirt. Boy, did she know what she was doing when she got dressed today.
“But you’re so hard.”
“I know. Lay back on the desk.”
“But I want to—”
“Do it!”
She twisted around to move the papers and pens and clipboards out of the way.
I reached behind her and shoved them all off the desktop with one swipe and pulled her thighs towards me until she was lying all the way back. I pulled her skirt down—with great effort—off her hips and down her thighs. I kissed her belly before pulling her skirt off completely and removing her shoes.
“You really aren’t going to let me enjoy your body?” she said, genuinely angry.
“Are you saying you aren’t having a good time?” I growled, as I ripped off her panties.
She drew in her breath, sharply, grabbed my shirt and pulled me to her so she could kiss me. “I’m having the time of my life,” she whispered, between kisses. She wrapped her legs around my waist, trying to press herself into me as tightly as she could.
I pulled myself away from her again, ignoring her frustrated whines, and moved the desk chair behind myself so I could take a seat and settle myself between her open legs like a very unprofessional gynecologist. I wished I had stirrups. “Put your legs on my shoulders.”
“What?”
“Do it. Get comfortable. You’re going to be in this position for a while.”
I felt her entire body tense up. “Oh shit,” she said to herself, trying to make it sound like a complaint, but the glossy, moist pink center of her was telling me all that I needed to know. I had spent hours and hours of my life wondering if her lower lips matched her juicy upper ones. They were engorged, for sure, but pretty and delicate. I leaned in and teased her clit with my tongue while squeezing her ass cheeks with my hands. I was ready to disappear into her, but first I was going to make her come until she begged me to stop.
My tongue pushed deep into her. I gave everything to this part of her that I would eventually give to her whole body. I licked and sucked and circled and flicked. I tapped and teased and rubbed and fluttered and pulsed. Her back was arched. She kept tensing up and crying out like she was in pain, quivering, and then she’d writhe around, her fingers reaching for my hair. She kept moaning and inching back away from me. “Oh God, it’s too much,” she whined. “It’s too much.”
I reached up and grasped both sides of her waist to pull her down towards me further.
She grabbed onto the sides of the desk. She was losing control of her body. The tremors and rolling waves had begun, and I alternately eased up and got more intense with my tongue. It was almost satisfying enough just to be able to drive her wild like this. Almost.
“Brad. Oh God, Brad, what are you doing to me?!”
Finally, I rubbed her clit with one hand while thrusting my tongue in and out and in and out, and then sucked hard on her clit until she shouted out and her body convulsed. I held onto her hips and watched her, so beautiful, ebbing and flowing, as she let go and withdrew into herself. Her hair was wild around her rosy face, her breasts swollen and still pink all over from the friction of my stubble.
I had spent hours and hours of my life imagining what Vivian Sparks would be like when she had an orgasm, and never came close to dreaming up anything as glorious as what she had just experienced before me.
After about a minute, she finally caught her breath and opened her eyes. She sighed. “Now what?” she said, smirking, her voice like whiskey.
“Now we go back to my place and fuck.”
Chapter Fourteen
VIVIAN
If a policeman had seen the way I was driving from the gym to Brad’s place that night, he would have assumed that I was either a hundred years old or drunk and pulled me over, because I was going so slowly and trying so hard not to crash into anything. “No, officer, I just got eaten out until I was delirious and now I’m trying not to appear too anxious to get to this guy’s place so he can finally put his penis inside of me. Would you like me to walk in a straight line for you? Because I doubt that I’ll be able to after he’s rammed his giant cock into me. He looks pretty big. Be careful what you wish for—am I right? How’s your night going?” Fortunately, Portland’s cops had something better to do, like chase down gangs and deal with an inordinate number of property crimes.
But seriously, as much as I wanted Brad inside of me, I was a little nervous about accommodating him. It had been nearly half a year since I’d had intercourse, as Connor did me the honor of not fucking me while he was secretly fucking Slutface while still living with me. Not that I was worried about my body manufacturing enough lubricant, though, because yeesh. I wish I’d had the foresight to bring an extra pair of panties that morning, but he didn’t seem like the panty-ripping type.
I kept wondering how many women he must have been with since high school. I mean, he must have had a lot of sex to get that good. And I’d been bragging about my fellatio skills for weeks. What if I couldn’t keep up with him?
He had taken my body to a place it had never been before, and I hadn’t even seen him completely naked yet.
By the time I had parked and knocked on his door, Brad had done his feline caretaker duties, put on a sexy Miguel album, and removed his shirt. I stood in the doorway, mesmerized by his abs.
“Would you like to come in?” he said.
I stepped towards him, dropped my purse, and placed one hand on each of his magnificent pecs. I had wanted to do this since that first time I saw him at the gym. He indulged me for a few seconds, before shutting the door. “You hungry? Thirsty? You should replenish your fluids.”
“Already did in the car.”
“Me too.”
We stared at each other for a beat, then I launched myself at him, wrapped my legs around his waist, and licked his freakishly handsome face.
He laughed.
Oh well.
He let me down so that I could stand again, and then he let me down for real.
“I just want to make it clear that this doesn’t mean we’re dating. We’re just…getting something out of our systems. Right?”
I put my clenched fists on my hips and shook my head. “It always has to be on your terms, doesn’t it?”
“What—does it bother you that I want to make out in private but I don’t want anyone else to know about it and I don’t want to hang out with you in public?”
“I did hang out with you in public!”
“Not after you made other friends.”
“OH my God. Let it go, Mitch!”
“I have. I swear. I just like messing with you.”
“Really?” I was dubious, bu
t his expression was convincing.
“Really. Are you okay with us just having sex? I mean. If you still want to have sex with me, that is.” He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared down at his feet, while flexing.
“Oh brother. You think you’re so irresistible.”
“You don’t?”
“You just have women throwing themselves at you all day long, don’t you?”
He shrugged. “Not all day.”
If I were a badass, I would have turned on my heels and gone home right then and made him chase after me. But I wasn’t a feral kitten. I was a woman with needs. And I needed to know what his body felt like. “Get into the bedroom,” I said. “Now. Before you stop manufacturing pheromones and I stop being attracted to you.” I stepped to him and pushed him until he started walking backwards in the direction of his bedroom. He laughed. “Turn around,” I said.
He grinned, turned around, and walked ahead of me, so I could watch his world-class man ass move in his somehow amazingly sexy sweatpants.
I removed my cardigan and blouse while following him, and unzipped my skirt. By the time he reached the foot of the bed and turned around, I was pulling down my skirt. I stood before him in my camisole and Mary-Janes, and his eyes about popped out of his head. He made a loud guttural sound and reached out for me. I backed away and pushed him onto the bed. “Not yet,” I said. “I get to touch you this time. Lie back.”
He exhaled and lay back on his elbows.
I lifted up one of his legs, untied his Nikes and pulled off his shoes before slowly pulling off his pants. His grey boxer briefs were bulging in front, and I wanted to remove them, but first, I would touch every inch of him.
I kneeled on the bed beside him, leaned down and kissed his mouth. He reached for me, but I moved his hands and placed them behind his head, running my fingers down the length of his arms, every smooth, hard curve, all the way down to his shoulders.
I traced around his pectorals, licked his nipple, gently ran my fingers up his shaft, over his underpants, then ran them along his lower abdomen. I let the back of my fingers drag up the center of his chiseled torso. He was firm all over, but not in an inhuman way like a statue, the way it sometimes looked at the gym. There was substance and heat beneath his radiant skin. When I reached his chest, he grabbed my wrist, flipped me over and straddled me.
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