by Jolie Du Prè
“Eric . . . ,” she cried, “God . . . yes . . .” Any more of this and she would come right there sitting in front of the kitchen sink, water running behind her.
Eric pulled his mouth away from Kate’s breast, breathing hard. He placed a hand on either side of her face and slanted his mouth over hers. He thrust his tongue inside, ruthless. He lifted his head and looked at her, seeing her flushed face, swollen lips, hooded eyes.
“Not yet, lover,” he murmured against her mouth. “Not yet. I want to taste you first.”
He heard her whimper at his words. God, she made such glorious sounds. He reached behind her and flipped off the faucet. Her legs still wrapped around his waist, he lifted her from the counter. His mouth on hers, he stumbled through the kitchen with her in his arms. He made it as far as the living room where he sat her on the couch and knelt in front of her. With a groan, he unzipped his jeans and freed himself. He ached to be inside the woman. He couldn’t remember ever being this fucking hard. But he wanted to taste her. He had to feel her silky skin against his lips. He wanted to watch Kate come before he allowed himself the ultimate pleasure of thrusting his cock inside her. She was so beautiful, with her long legs and her smooth, slender body, and those big, brown eyes that questioned his motives but accepted his actions nonetheless.
He could sense that she was exactly what she seemed . . . a woman who had lived a little. Who had learned how to laugh, how to lose graciously, how to say thank you when a man complimented her, instead of asking if some dress made her look fat.
Christ, she turned him on. He felt her hands on his shoulders, waiting for him to make the next move, silently begging him to make the next move. He reached for the snap on her jeans. He stripped them from her, eyes locked on her face. He watched her bite her lower lip in anticipation and smiled when he saw her black, boy shorts. No silk thong for Kate. He very slowly slid his palms along the inside of her satiny thighs. Savoring the feel of every inch. Her legs began to shake as he spread them wider, giving him access and a view of what he was about to do. His thumbs reached the edge of her shorts and he slid them beneath, one on each side, touching the delicate, silk inside.
“Yes,” he heard her say, her voice husky with desire. God, she was hot. She was wet and slippery and ready for him. Ready for whatever he had in mind.
Kate felt one of Eric’s thumbs slip inside her panties. He slid slowly through her folds until he found her clit. Oh. My. God. He knew enough about a woman’s body to know that direct pressure was sometimes too much, especially when a woman was as turned on as she was. He deliberately circled the swollen nub with his wet thumb, a thumb that was wet with her now, instead of water from the kitchen faucet. The second thumb trailed after the first, entering her carefully. Thrusting inside her in a slow, steady rhythm. She tried to keep her eyes open, she tried to watch his face as he watched her, but she found it impossible. She thought she might scream with pleasure. Instead, she threw her head back against the couch and gripped the cushions hard with both hands.
“Eric . . . ,” she called.
He bit the inside of her thigh in response.
“Oh . . . God . . . Eric . . .” She arched towards him as she came, hard, against his fingers. It felt like her orgasm went on forever.
“That’s it, lover,” she heard him murmur. “I want you to come again, just like that, but this time, against my mouth.”
Kate heard herself cry out at his words, something unintelligible, as he removed her boy shorts, spread her thighs and lowered his mouth to her. He replaced his thumb with his tongue and ran it over her swollen, sensitive clit, and down to her tender opening.
He lifted his head for a moment. “You taste heavenly, Kate,” he said, and then he placed his mouth against her, alternately sucking and licking, nipping at her clit. He slid a finger into her, and then two, while his other hand reached up her body to toy with a hard nipple.
Never in her entire life had Kate experienced anything so sensual, so arousing, so intense. She threaded her hands through Eric’s thick hair and followed his movements. There was no need to direct him. He knew exactly what she needed.
Kate heard herself moan wildly as she teetered on the brink of orgasm. Suddenly Eric nipped her and she screamed. She shattered, his tongue thrusting inside her to lap at the tiny contractions. Eric was masterful, she realized from a far, distant place. He was quite simply, a masterful lover.
The woman was delicious. Honey and caramel and Celtic sea salt mixed together. Her response drove him wild and he nearly exploded when she came against his tongue. Jesus Christ, Kate was much woman. Eric laid her down on the couch and impatiently stripped off his remaining clothes. As she watched, he pulled a condom out of his jeans’ pocket. He ripped open the package, but Kate sat up and reached for it, stopping his hands.
“Let me,” she said.
She gently took the foil-wrapped condom from him and set it next to her on the couch. Her hands stroked him as he stood before her. She ran her palms slowly along both sides of his swollen cock and he closed his eyes for an instant. Suddenly he felt her warm, wet tongue follow her palm, and he groaned from deep in his chest.
“Like silk over steel,” Kate murmured, just before she wrapped her hot, luscious mouth around the head of his thick cock, taking in as much of him as she could.
He placed his hands lightly on her head, not directing, just encouraging, letting her take charge. She wrapped one arm around his hips, her other hand carefully caressed his scrotum, squeezing gently, as she sucked the head of his cock with marvelous enthusiasm. He felt like a gourmet lollipop at a specialty food fair. Her tongue was a wonder. Unconsciously, he began to thrust his hips, and she took him deeper. Christ, if she didn’t stop, he’d come in three seconds.
“Kate . . .” His voice was deep. “Kate . . . stop. God . . . stop. Let me inside. Now. Fuck. Now.”
It seemed to him that she reluctantly pulled her mouth away, rubbing her thumb over his tip as she left him to reach for the condom. She pulled the latex out and carefully rolled it over his jutting erection.
“Magnum,” she said, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.
“Too big for you?” He challenged her with a matching grin as he lowered her to the couch.
“Uh-uh,” she replied. “Just right.”
“Then spread your legs, lover, and let me in.”
He lay over her, ran his cock through her slick folds, and pressed against her opening, exactly the position he’d wanted to be in since the moment he saw her. She was tight and he met with resistance. He could tell this act wasn’t something she made a habit of. What a shame. A woman like Kate should be fucked, and often. Very often.
He heard her gasp as he entered. He lowered his mouth to hers and licked her lips. “It’s all right, lover. Relax. I’ve got you. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. Ssshhhhh.”
He felt her muscles loosen ever so slightly and he thrust inside quickly. Impaled himself to the hilt and held very still. She arched against him. He kissed her deeply, concentrating on her mouth, calming her, as he tried to bring himself under control. If he didn’t, he’d come in one more thrust just like a fucking teenager. Kate was hot. She was wet. She was tight as a virgin and he could feel her body take him in and surround him as if there was no barrier between them.
Slowly, very slowly, he began to move inside her. He pulled nearly all the way out, hearing her whimper, and he thrust again. She moved to meet him and he rocked against her, watching her thrash beneath his hard body. Her hands clutched at his buttocks, squeezing, pulling him deep inside with each pump of his hips. He moved his mouth to her breast. His teeth tugged at her erect nipple. He growled against her as she practically screamed with arousal. God almighty . . . he hadn’t known it was possible to be so hard. He couldn’t wait another minute.
“Kate,” he panted, “Come with me lover. Come with me.”
“Oh, yes,” she moaned. “Yes, Eric, yes . . .”
Eric felt his climax begin
. He buried his face in her sweet neck and bit down. She clutched at him desperately, shattering beneath him without a sound as he thrust deep, burying himself against the mouth of her womb. Her contractions milked him and he spurted hot and heavy. He felt out of his body for one long, heavenly moment. It was almost as if Kate was the first real woman he’d ever made love to.
Panting, spent, arms shaking, he tried to hold himself above her, but she pulled him to her chest.
“You won’t squish me,” she said with a smile. “I want to feel the weight of you.”
So he lay across her, his face nestled in her soft, sweet-smelling hair, his fingers toying with her still erect nipple. She purred her approval.
“You better be careful,” she whispered, “I might just make you do that all over again.”
He chuckled. “You read my mind,” he said. “Give me fifteen minutes and we can continue this in the bedroom.”
“I was teasing,” she laughed.
“I’m serious.”
Kate was silent for a moment as she stroked his back. “The perks of being with a younger man?” she asked.
He lifted his head and kissed her lovely mouth. “The perks of being with me.”
Kate drowsed against Eric’s chest. The water in the tub was still warm and she felt deliciously sated. What was that old saying? The third time is the charm? She wasn’t certain that the first and second times weren’t the charm too. Eric had wrapped one of his arms firmly about her waist while his other hand held her breast softly. She fit into his hand perfectly, as if made for him. Who knows? Maybe she was, at least for this one night. This one night of sensual bliss.
“Eric?” her voice was soft.
“Hmm?” He sounded sleepy.
“I should go back to my apartment.”
“Why?”
“Well, so you can . . . I don’t know . . . so you can do whatever it is you do.”
She felt his chest shake beneath her back as he laughed.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do than this,” he replied, “With you. Stay tonight. Here, with me.”
She turned her head and looked into his face. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Have I seemed uncertain about what I want up to now?” He grinned at her.
“No, uh, you’ve seemed . . . quite certain,” she teased.
“Then stay.”
“On one condition.”
“What’s that?”
“I make breakfast. I make the best cowboy biscuits this side of the Mississippi.”
Eric brushed her wayward curls from her face. “It’s a deal,” he said. “That will give us an opportunity to discuss a few other details.”
Kate’s eyebrows flew up. “Like what?”
“Like, whose apartment we’re going to sleep in tomorrow night.”
“Oh,” laughed Kate, “You plan on sleeping, do you?”
“God,” teased Eric, “I’ve unleashed a beast.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Kate commented, a wry grin on her lovely face.
“Because I just might get it? That, lover, was my plan all along.”
Inter-Office Men-O
Blue Canyon
The box lowered into the hole with smooth ease, mechanical winches grinding out the support cables. Flowers wilted quickly as tears clouded all clarity. Soon the dirt would begin to fly. And fly it did—right into her face.
Carol woke with a start as the dream faded far too slowly, the same dream—for over two years. Kyle lived with zeal and it infected her, but he’d been gone so long. Her life since became hum-drum and empty.
She forced her eyes open even though some internal instinct told her she could sleep for a while longer before the alarm erupted. Her hair matted to her face, and her hands thrust between her legs as usual, Carol woke in quite a disarray.
Frustrated beyond all sense, she performed her morning ritual in her hot spot, using both hands. Some days she used a toy. And as usual, the empty orgasm just couldn’t make up for real sex and left her wanting something more. But time flew and she needed to make ready for work. Her boss wouldn’t appreciate the smell, a smell that drove her crazy most mornings. It also drove her to the lady’s room at the office on several occasions.
“To hell with love,” she said to the face she’d secretly drawn on the back of the other pillow with a marker. “I need to get laid.”
Mildly sated, Carol rose and washed—only a little, she didn’t want to make all the smell go away, her boss be damned—and dressed for another dreary day. Her office, only a short bus ride away, always felt so cold and austere, though efficient. Carol thought a nice desktop statue of DaVinci’s David would decorate nicely. Then again, looking at that penis all day would probably drive her to the ladies’ more frequently.
Day in and day out she would come and sit here, performing all sorts of useless and mundane functions for the sake of the bean counters upstairs. And the stack of papers on her desk rose quicker than a New York City high rise.
“How’s it going, Miss Blake?”
“It’s Mrs. Blake, Harry.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”
At that, Carol looked up from her desk and eyed Harry up and down. She’d always liked his ass, but she couldn’t bring herself to get close with such a young man. She’d checked his records. Twenty eight, last month, and firm bodied. Besides, inter-office mingling had been put on the taboo list by the upper echelons.
Still he—
“You look really nice today, Mrs. Blake.”
“Be careful, Harry. You’re bordering on harassment.”
“I think I’m within my rights to say you look good.”
Carol wanted to chastise him. On the other hand, she also wanted him to come around behind her desk with her and dive right in. She shook her head and blinked a couple times. When she looked up Harry stood naked in her doorway. She blinked again.
In the ladies’ room, Carol used a tiny finger vibrator to drive herself to another fleeting ecstasy as she thought about the young mail boy. She just knew he could drive her into oblivion, if she let him. But maybe she didn’t have to.
At that point a scheme entered Carol’s brain that rivaled the greatest criminal minds. As she returned to her desk, a devious smile sat on her face. No one noticed. She commonly came out from the rest room with a smile on her face, as if relief had become so imperative, it showed when she got it.
Carol liked her lights dimmed after a hard day at work to ease the tension behind her eyes. A chilled glass of Amaretto often helped. But her true relief would only come if she did, and it had to be with someone else. Self-manipulation would only carry her so far.
But right now the computer called. She needed to do some research on the mail room at her company. Perhaps, if they had an opening, she could research as if she were a potential employee looking the job over.
While that gave her an overview of his job, it lacked specifics. So she shut down the computer and went shopping. There were still a number of things to accomplish in her mission. Granny panties just weren’t going to cut it for her task, not even petite lacy ones. She needed thongs.
And while the concept of a thread sliding up her crack didn’t sound appealing, it all fit her plan. She had to proceed.
She had everything she needed. She set the plan in motion like a pro. Carol knew Mark Hagedus would be away from his desk all afternoon, so she made sure to send a message to accounting, attn: Mark.
As soon as Harry left Carol’s office, so did she. The direct route brought her to Mark’s office before Harry so she had time to prepare, though she needed so little. She fought with her skirt’s waistband, rolling it underneath to shorten the hem length. Then she quickly dropped her panties to her ankles and hid them, sliding on a thong she’d pulled from her purse.
The shorter skirt made her long legs look ever so much longer. And the all-black suit efficiently hid the love handles she’d begun to develop. Despite her age, people still often complim
ented her ass so she felt relatively confident about her plan.
Then, as her last step in the plan, she overturned her purse onto the carpeted floor. She bent down and began painstakingly picking up one piece of purse flotsam at a time. That’s when the door to Mark’s office opened. Carol froze.
No one spoke but she could see Harry’s telltale sneakers. She heard the door latch closed followed by another click. He locked the door! Carol couldn’t help but smile. Still not speaking, or asking permission, he knelt behind her and placed his hands on her hips. Then he pushed her thong aside . . . with his tongue.
Carol closed her eyes and gripped the carpet in her hands as his tongue explored her insides, driving her into one satisfying moment after another. By the fourth or fifth—she’d completely lost count—her eyes felt crossed and a bit of drool dripped from the corner of her mouth. She did her best to retain balance by keeping her hands flat on the floor.
With her legs fully extended, it offered a very accessible position for Harry. He stood and Carol heard a zipper. She waited patiently but it seemed like forever. What could he be doing? She thought how big ‘it’ might be.
But when it touched the opening to her womanhood she bolted upright and pushed him away.
“You can’t.”
“What?” he stammered, his arousal standing straight for her to admire.
“I mean, I can still get pregnant.”
“Oh. I didn’t know.” He looked away and then back. “Well could I rub it against you so I don’t have to carry this all day?” he asked, indicating his not-so-little problem below the belt.
Carol smiled gently. “Sure. What would you like? I could—”