Burn . . . Erotica Volume 2

by Jade Stone

  She must have heard my truck pull up, because she texts that she is in the maze.

  I dutifully go into the house and prepare her peppermint tea, complete with cup and saucer. I also remove my shirt. Selena seems to enjoy the sight of me shirtless. But I leave the pants. She likes to remove those herself.

  I smell her perfume as soon as I enter the maze, which causes my swollen erection to swell even larger. I follow her scent, though I have been through here so many times now that I could probably find her with my eyes closed. I briefly close my eyes, imagining my dick sliding in and out of her luscious mouth, and knowing I will be fucking her there very soon. But I have to let her have her way with me first.

  When I see her, I literally come to a standstill. She lies on the lounger, with her nose in a book, in her secret corner in the middle of the maze. She’s wearing my favourite black negligee, her white skin gleaming in the sun, her flowing black hair shining in the light. She lowers her sunglasses when she sees me, revealing her stunning emerald eyes. And she smiles that naughty white smile that never fails to send my brain into a scramble of arousal. Selena is truly one of the most beautiful women in the world. She regularly rates at the top of all hottest actress lists, she is the fantasy of millions of men (and some women), and here she is waiting for me. Her smile widens when she sees the bulge in my pants.

  She places her book on the table and eyes me, standing a few feet away, holding her cup of peppermint tea, with a very obvious erection.

  “Come here,” she breathes.

  I do as she commands. She looks up at me over her dark sunglasses as she takes the cup and saucer, with that naughty glint in her eye that I have come to know so well and love so much.

  “How’s your morning been, baby?’ I ask her in a hoarse voice. My mouth has become dry in anticipation.

  She lies back in the lounger as she sips her tea.

  “So very relaxing,” she finally answers.

  I go to lean against the hedge when I feel her take my hand. I look down at her, and see she has removed her glasses.

  “Come here...” she tells me again.

  I step forward, and she hooks her fingers in my belt. I can only gape down at her as she looks up at me while she opens my pants and my dick comes out in front of her face. I let out a moan as she starts stroking me down, still looking up at me with her slight but naughty smile and the glint in her eyes. I know what she’s about to ask me. It doesn’t take long.

  “Turn around,” she whispers.

  I feel myself tense up, like I do every time she says this, but I do as I’m told. I grasp hold of the edge of the garden table as I feel her pull my pants down lower. I bend forward slightly as I feel my ass exposed to the sun and crisp spring air. And I feel her hands part my cheeks, exposing my vulnerability. I take a short breath of air as her tongue sinks between my cheeks, causing my eyes to clasp shut, and my knuckles turn white as I clench the edge of the table. My dick goes into a mind of its own as it responds to the waves of pleasure washing over me at the soft flicks my wife unleashes all over my tight asshole. What she is doing makes my dick so hard it takes all my might not to grab it and stroke myself off, but I am under strict instructions not to touch it; Selena likes to do that herself. The sensation from the peppermint tea on her tongue heightens the hot friction as she continues to French kiss my ass. I take one hand and reach behind me, burying my hand in her beautiful hair, as she continues to drive me wild. My hand on her head seems to excite her more; she spreads my cheeks apart even further, adding more pressure with her tongue, her hands on my cheeks pushing me forward, making me bend right over the table. Her thumb slips down below her mouth, and I let out a gasp as she adds pressure to my perineum, her thumb gently moving in small circular motions. I hold myself up by my elbow as I bury my face into my hand, cringing in pleasure, my other hand still buried in her hair, her face still buried in my ass, as she fucks my ass with her tongue. Just when I think I’m gonna have to grab my dick and take care of myself, she finally reaches around takes it for herself. Her tongue continues working my ass as she rubs down my throbbing dick, my g-spot pulsing against her thumb, which she has now started moving anticlockwise.

  My dick starts to leak. Selena can feel it on her hand, which is still fisted around it. Just as I think I am about to explode, she releases my ass from her mouth.

  “Turn around,” she whispers.

  I spin around, my cock nearly hitting her in the face. Once again, she gives me that naughty smile as she looks up at me, and I take her head in my hands as she lowers her face and gently takes my swollen, throbbing cock into her mouth.

  A moan leaves me as my cock hits the back of her throat, and she grasps hard onto my shaft as she moves her mouth up and down, her tongue flicking all over my bulging head. She clasps my ass cheek with her spare hand as she continues sucking my cock, expertly wanking my dick at the same time in the way only she knows how.

  I feel my swollen balls tighten and lurch upward, and I know Selena can feel my load flowing up my shaft. She holds me tight as I grip her hair, and my dick erupts inside her mouth.

  I let out a loud moan, and Selena’s eyes close as my load fills her mouth. I watch her savour my taste, appreciative to know how much she loves this, before she swallows it all down in one gulp. I lean against the garden table, trying to catch my breath, as she finally releases my cock. She knows I have a meeting with my team management in half an hour.

  Selena resumes her place on the lounger, places her sunglasses back on, and sips the remainder of the peppermint tea still in the cup. I do up my pants as she picks up her book again.

  “Thank you for the peppermint tea,” she tells me with a pout of her luscious mouth.

  I give her a smile before retreating.

  I am always happy to bring my wife a cup of peppermint tea.

  Oysters

  I’ve never liked oysters. In fact, I’ve never liked seafood, period. But I should have learned a long time ago to never say never. ’Cause I now rate oysters as one of my favourite delicacies. I guess that’s because I associate them with the man who introduced me to them. A man who introduced me to a few other things as well...

  I met Dale d’Angelo when I was working as a Regional Sales Manager for a software company in Sydney. In the beginning, I met him only once, and once was enough to get me hooked. He was our new CEO, based in our headquarters in Melbourne. In the corporate IT world, Dale was known as ‘The Terminator.’ Give this guy a failing company, such as ours, and he would terminate all the dead wood. Then there would be a ‘rise of the machines,’ so to speak, and the company would go from being in the red to back in black. Then he would move on. Our company was no exception.

  The first thing Dale did in his first six months was fire the Sales Director—my useless boss—and appoint someone far more astute. My boss didn’t even get a leaving party—he was gone before lunchtime. The keys to his office were changed before he left the building. I applied for his role, but I was unsuccessful. I didn’t even get an interview. One of my colleagues, Susan, was appointed over me. I’ll admit, this fuelled my ambition. My rage at being passed over gave me a determination I otherwise would have never had. I was furious that this stranger, this Dale guy, hadn’t even bothered to meet me or give me an interview. I would show him.

  Then I met him. I smelt him before I saw him. He arrived unannounced in the Sydney office one Tuesday. I was sitting at my desk first thing in the morning, preparing for a presentation to an airline that afternoon, when my nostrils were hit with such an erotic aroma I was briefly stunned beyond any sort of intellectual capacity. I breathed in the expensive, spicy cologne, mixed with tobacco and top shelf red wine. I felt myself go into a trance. I could not see the screen in front of my eyes. I could not think clearly. Then I felt a very powerful presence stand over me.

  “Good morning.”

  The voice was deep and velvety smooth, with a veiled yet distinct air of belonging to someone you did not dare fuck w
ith. I slowly raised my head.

  Dale d’Angelo stood before me, his deep-set, cool blue eyes boring into mine. His eyes matched his tie, along with the subtle blue pin stripes on his black suit. His thick black hair was slicked back with a lot of gel, sitting above his rugged, handsome face, which had more lines than he deserved for his age, but would have come with the terrain of what he did for a job. I had seen his photo on the staff intranet, and I had seen he was a handsome man, but it had not prepared me for being in his actual presence. His aura, along with the aroma emanating from him, was so powerful I could barely breathe. I felt myself start to slip from my chair.

  “I’m Dale d’Angelo. I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” he said, extending his hand out to me. “April?”

  I wanted to stand, but I could not. Hearing him say my name had almost rendered me paralysed. I could barely lift my arm, or get my voice out.

  “No,” I croaked. “I don’t think we have. I definitely would have remembered.”

  I wanted to kick myself as soon as I said that, but my hand was already in his, making me feel as though I was falling off a building. If he could tell the effect he was having on me, he was professional enough not to show it. In a blur, we shook hands and he thanked me for my recent work with the airline.

  “Good luck this afternoon,” he said, after he had slowly released my hand. “I know you’ll kill it.”

  At that moment, Susan appeared and led him away. Apparently, they had a breakfast meeting with a client.

  I sat alone at my desk, pleased that it was too early for anyone else to have arrived to work yet, because I was reeling in my chair over my encounter with him. Never in my thirty-two years had a man had such an effect on me. I was still quivering, still getting over the fact that not only did he know my name, but he knew all about what I was doing. I would come to learn that that was classic Dale—he got to know everyone, and everything about them.

  I suddenly felt foolish. Foolish that I had acted so immaturely in his presence that I couldn’t even stand to shake his hand, and foolish that I had originally thought I was the right person for the Sales Director position. Susan was without doubt the right person for the job. She had far more experience and expertise than I did. But my embarrassment quickly turned into motivation. I made the decision right then that when she left, I would take her place. And I was going to be more than that—I was going to be an unforgettable employee, in more ways than Susan would ever be...

  That afternoon, Dale held a CEO forum for all staff in the Sydney office. The attendance was so large that people were spilling out the door of the conference room. His vigour and passion for our products and our people was infectious. I had never come across a more inspiring CEO. But it was well known that Dale never stayed anywhere longer than three to four years; once he had resurrected a company, he moved on to the next challenge. I think that was part of the attraction toward him, that we all knew we wouldn’t have him for long, so we doubled our efforts knowing we only had a limited timeframe with this incredible leader.

  Rumours swirled about his reputation. How he would hire and fire people in illegal ways, but because he was so good he always got away with it. Rumours also swirled about his love life. How he was a ladies’ man who had been married three times, and that he didn’t have ‘girlfriends,’ only a trail of female lovers who would never get to join him at any official events. It was also well known that he didn’t go through the usual channels of appointments. He did not interview people for positions on his leadership team, he ‘shoulder tapped’ them.

  For the next two years, I worked my ass off. I was determined to stand out, to be better than Dale could imagine. To feel that ‘tap’ on my shoulder. My life consisted of long hours at work, hitting the gym, feeding my two cats, and more work. My team grew from five direct reports to ten, with my overall regional team growing from twenty-five to fifty-five. I eliminated our competition, scoring deals with not only the two biggest airlines in the country, but also the biggest banks. And the whole time, I imagined being in Dale d’Angelo’s thoughts...and his bed.

  But my hard work was largely ignored by Dale. Susan congratulated me, giving me a large bonus each year and higher salary. But not one word from Dale d’Angelo. Not even after sales by my team grew by 200%.

  Then came the email. The email that announced his resignation. And the second announcement, that Susan was taking his place. And the third, that my colleague, Colin Matthews, was taking her place.

  In my entire career, in my entire life, I had never felt so deflated. I had worked harder than I ever had, and now I felt utterly used and abused.

  My family worried about me. My mother found me lying on the floor of my apartment the night I received those emails, completely passed out after I had consumed three bottles of wine.

  But I pulled myself together and went to work the next day. I sat at my desk in a rage that none of my hard work had been recognised by the man I had worked so hard for. I was unintentionally rude to my assistant, Mia, when she stopped by my desk later that morning.

  “You know that leadership meeting that is happening at a retreat in Queenstown, New Zealand, next week?” she said. “You’re invited, too.”

  “Decline it,” I snapped.

  Mia raised an eyebrow.

  “How about I get you a coffee, then we’ll talk about Queenstown,” she said.

  I’ll give that girl this—she knew how things worked in that place, and she knew me, too. Sometimes better than I knew myself. She left the office to get my coffee from the cafe across the road and I followed her, then joined her out in the courtyard at the front entrance to our building. Mia smoked, and even though I had given up smoking years ago, I suddenly needed a cigarette. Badly.

  “Please, I need one of those,” I said despairingly.

  Mia handed over a cigarette and lighter. I stuck it in my mouth and lit it, inhaling sharply. I am usually a calm boss, but I am lucky to have such an observant and patient assistant, because today I was not a calm boss at all. And right now I was resenting her looks of sympathy.

  “I’ve booked your flights to Queenstown,” she said, sucking on her own cigarette.

  I glared at her. She should have known better than to do that without my approval first. She exhaled slowly.

  “It’ll be okay, boss,” she said. “Whatever happens, it’ll be okay.”

  Great. So my assistant had already ascertained that I was either gonna get fired soon, or leave under a cloud. I didn’t answer her. I was hung over and hung up over my own problems.

  I figured I’d better go to Queenstown. I had decided that if I was gonna leave this shit hole company soon, I might as well get out of it what I could. A free trip to Queenstown, where there would be a lot of free alcohol flowing, was a good start.

  When we arrived, I was stunned by the beauty of the place. I hadn’t been to that part of New Zealand before; it was really quite magnificent. It was winter, and the resort was adjacent to a stunning lake, which was beneath the beautiful Remarkable mountain range.

  When Dale d’Angelo entered the meeting room, my heart rate did not increase the way it usually did. Instead, I felt nothing at all. I felt the same toward Susan, who had been grinning ear to ear this past week, following the announcement that she would be the new CEO. I played the polite employee the entire day as I listened to Dale and Susan discuss their outgoing and upcoming plans for the company, concentrating on my effort to not drop my head back and snore loudly.

  Finally, it was over and dinner was announced.

  I caught my appearance in a mirror going down the hall. My suit was wrinkled, my mascara was smudged, and some of my hair was out of place. I didn’t care. I made my way down to dinner in the main restaurant.

  When I took my seat at the table, someone went to take the seat next to me. But a second hand blocked the chair. And, once again, I smelt him before I saw him. The sensual aroma of spicy cologne, tobacco, and top shelf red wine filled my nostrils.

&n
bsp; “I’ll take this seat,” said the familiar smooth, deep velvety voice in a stern tone. The other person quickly retreated.

  Even after all the resentment I had felt this past week, my mouth still went dry. My joints melted. I almost dropped the knife I was using to butter my bread.

  “April...?” he said.

  I slowly turned and looked into the face of the man whom I had worked so hard for, who had let me down so badly.

  “Hello, Dale,” I said as nonchalantly as possible.

  “I’ve been dying for a cigarette,” he stated. “But I’ve left mine in my room. Would you mind if I have one of yours?”

  “I don’t smoke,” I replied.

  “Yes, you do.”

  I felt my face redden. I’d only just started smoking again, and only once had I done it at work, that day with Mia. How had he known about that?

  “I, uh, I just started again,” I mumbled as I put my hand in my bag, searching for the packet.

  I handed the packet to Dale, feeling myself start to crumble beneath the weight of his intense gaze. He took it from my hand as I silently scolded myself. This man did not deserve my feelings of intimidation. Not when I had directly helped him get his desired results, and he had never acknowledged it.

  Dale put a cigarette in his mouth.

  “I’ll need a lighter, too,” he said quietly.

  I handed him a lighter. What else was he going to ask, for me to light the flame? I was getting annoyed. But there was also no doubt that, once again, he had ignited a flame between my legs. And I was burning under his gaze. I almost went numb from desire when he put his hand on my shoulder.

  “You, too, look like you need a cigarette...” he said, rising from his chair.

  His statement was a command. All I could do was nod and follow him outside. My knees barely kept me upright.

  He stood with his back to me, and I saw the flame illuminate his frame from where I stood behind him, the cigarette dangling from my mouth. As if in slow motion, he turned around and lit it for me. The only reason it stayed between my lips was that my mouth was so dry it was actually stuck. I choked down a cough as I took it in my fingers and exhaled into the cold night air. It was June—New Zealand winter—and it was freezing. Thankfully, the outdoor heaters counterbalanced the icy temperature.