A Taste of Pleasure

by Antoinette

  “I wish you would have told me. You shouldn’t have had to go through this alone.”

  “I was in total shock. I blamed myself. I was lost in anguish and regret. I’m sorry for not letting you know, I just needed to be alone to have some time to think about the rest of my life.”

  It occurred to London that they should leave the conference room and see who was around before they attracted attention and questions. The morning hour was getting late, and it seemed that most of their colleagues had left. They made small talk as they walked through the office, making sure they were alone.

  “Deacon, may I show you where I work?” London said as he played along. Once behind her closed door, she asked: “And what did you decide about the rest of your life?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the answer.

  “I’m still not sure. I just know that I’m glad to be here with you right now, and there’s no place in the world I’d rather be.”

  Her heart jumped and her skin tingled as his eyes smoldered again, drawing her in with their enchantment. He sat up as she leaned into a steamy kiss. He ran his hand up her thigh and rubbed the lacy tops of her thigh-highs, teasing the bare skin just above them. Her sex was aching for his hand to go just a bit farther, and she scooted toward him, but he eased his hand back. She saw that twinkle in his eye and knew the game had begun. She leaned in for a deeper, more intensely passionate kiss as his hands moved toward her breasts, tugging at the sweater that invited him in. This time, she pulled back, grinning devilishly as she stood up. He gasped and almost spoke, but she bent toward him teasingly, still looking in his eyes and whispered, “Shh.”

  She knelt before him, undid his belt, and unzipped his pants to release the bulge from its prison. Her taste buds still tingled from the strawberry and her lips were moist as she placed them on the tip, then slid them over his throbbing head. She licked it with such zest that his head fell back to rest against the chair and he let out a soft moan. She continued to suck and he almost erupted before he pulled her up and onto his lap. He was panting as she took hold of his erection and slid it inside her. She sat there for a moment, pushing all her weight onto him, straddling him with her wetness as she felt the tip go deep inside, then she rode him up and down. His hand massaged her button and she felt herself building up to an orgasm as he filled her with his hardness. Just as she was nearing her climax, he lifted her up anxiously.

  She had him so hot that he displayed an aggression she hadn’t seen in him before. He stood up abruptly, manhandling her as he turned her around toward the table. He was rapacious and almost barbaric as he hiked her skirt up to expose her fiery sex that awaited him. She was gasping as he bent her over, taking her from behind. She sprawled across the desk, her hair cascading over her as she bit her lip to keep from making a sound. He thrusted into her, his hands on her hips, and rode her hard and wild. They were restricted to silence, and it made them tremble harder than ever as they panted and struggled to refrain from screaming in ecstasy. She never wanted this feeling to end. She treasured the sensation just before an orgasm, and the risky promiscuity, right here in their offices, escalated the intensity of the moment. He pounded and crashed into her. Their bodies collided in scorching obsession as they moaned softly into a bittersweet climax together.

  Deacon’s gentle nature returned immediately and he helped her up from the desk and stroked her hair back from her face. He smiled and they both laughed as she quickly adjusted her skirt and her just-fucked hair. He zipped up his pants and straightened his tie. They were overwhelmed by the intensity that had overcome them. He grabbed her in a warm embrace and held her as she buried her face into his neck, breathing in his delightful scent.

  “Wow, London . . . baby, you always amaze me.”

  “You beguile me, Deacon.”

  “So, Ms. Shelby, was there something you needed?” he asked with a sigh, his voice taking on airs of nonchalance again as he released her.

  “I got what I wanted. Thank you, sir. And there’s more where that came from,” she retorted as she curtsied.

  She hoped he would follow her up on the invitation as they made their way discreetly out of the building.

  Chapter 8

  SENSUAL FRENCH CUISINE

  London was packing lightly for her first-class flight to France departing the following night on business for the firm. She was assigned to work on an international law agreement. She was proud of herself for not only being recognized for her skills but for representing her country at this conference.

  She liked to travel, though it could be grueling at times. She grew tired of the monotony, lines for security, check-in and scanning, planning hotels, restaurants, bars, and mediocre food. She was now just plain tired. However, this time her mind was at least pacified by the delightful fact that she would be visiting France.

  She was relieved to hear the announcement “Now boarding first-class passengers” for her flight. She went to her compartment and loaded her carry-on in the generous overhead space. She sat down in the window seat and waited for the other passengers to file through. She was a bit displeased as she would have preferred the aisle seat, but none were available. At least there are fewer seats in first-class, she thought, so she wouldn’t have more than one passenger seated beside her.

  She was excited to be flying on a new, state-of-the-art aircraft with all the high-tech bells and whistles. The attendant delivered a preflight glass of wine to relax her before takeoff. She toyed with her personal onboard touch screen, reviewing first-class menu choices, available movie selections, and games. She tilted back in her cozy chair and gazed out the window into the sunset, watching the luggage carts and airport vehicles racing here and there as her thoughts drifted to Deacon. She felt someone next to her and turned to see who. It was Deacon. He was popping up everywhere in her work life now.

  “Well, hello there, handsome.” She grinned. “Why didn’t you tell me you were flying to France too?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t even know until late last night,” he explained as he stowed his carry-on. She settled in to read a book and sip her wine. He opened his newspaper and leafed through it, occasionally peering over it at her and her perky breasts. She had dressed for the trip in her wrinkle-free black silk skirt suit with thigh-high black stockings, but she had to have the three-inch black suede pumps, comfortable or not, as they made her luscious legs simply irresistible. She was so glad she’d chosen them now that Deacon was here. She felt sexy and she knew his desire was growing as she crossed her legs and eased back in her seat.

  She pretended to read but her excited breathing was a dead giveaway that he was beginning to affect her sexually. As the plane was clearing for takeoff, she had that feeling she loved in the pit of her tummy. She polished off her wine and continued to halfheartedly read. After a few minutes she felt his touch on her leg. She glanced over at him as he moved her skirt up higher on her leg. Still holding his newspaper skillfully with one hand for privacy, he eased the other between her legs and slid his fingers up to touch her wetness. She reclined farther in her seat, opening her legs to invite him in with full access. As the plane climbed toward the heavens, she was ascending from within to cloud nine.

  “You naughty girl, wearing no panties,” he whispered. “You should be punished.”

  “And you should be my punisher.”

  He moved the newspaper so that she could see the effect she was having on him. He was so hard he was ready to burst from his pants. She reached over to taunt him, touching his bulge.

  “Mmm,” she groaned.

  As the plane finally leveled out at thirty thousand feet, the lights came on and the pilot informed passengers that they were free to move about the cabin.

  “Why don’t you visit the restroom,” Deacon suggested. “I’ll be along in a minute. I will knock once, pause, then knock twice so you know it’s me.”

  She agreed and rose from her seat, adjusting her skirt back to its rightful place. The elevation, along with a bit of turbulence, alc
ohol, and steamy lust, had her head whirling. She held on to the backs of the seats to balance herself as she made her way to the restroom. In the bathroom, she freshened up as she awaited his arrival. Soon she heard a knock, then a pause, followed by another two knocks. She opened the door and eased back to let him in.

  He stroked her hair and kissed her eyes deeply and ravenously. He picked her up, placing her on the small sink. As he moved down her neck to her breasts, she threw her head back. He took his time kissing and tonguing her all the way down, his warm, wet tongue leaving cool trails behind. He stood back a moment to drink her in and she hungrily reached for his belt and unbuckled it. His hardness popped out and her mouth watered to taste him. Panting, she tried to lean down to reach him, but it would have taken a contortionist in the confines of the tiny room, and he wouldn’t even allow her to try. He restrained her, resumed his torturous kisses, working his way down to the tops of her thigh-highs, running his tongue along her thighs and finally reaching her button. He licked so hard that she almost came, but then he stopped abruptly.

  “No, precious, you’ll have to wait like I have to.” He smiled as he turned around to use the toilet, and then he exited, leaving her discontented. She was stunned at his cruel and arrogant game. She jumped down from the sink, used the toilet, and wiped away the wetness he’d instigated. She was beyond frustrated as she left the bathroom.

  When she returned to her seat, he was sitting by the window, so she sank into the aisle seat. She wanted to say so many things, but she bit her lip in exasperation and crossed her legs. He could see she was irate, and he leaned over to whisper in her ear.

  “It’s a long flight. We’ll have plenty of chances,” he said with a slight snicker in his voice. His whispering breath sent chills down to her wetness, but she shifted in her chair slightly away from him, her lips protruding in a petulant pout as she sulked. She grabbed her book and continued ignoring him.

  Before long, he leaned over to the controls and clicked off the light. The sun had disappeared, and the darkness offered some comfort and privacy. He reached over and took her book away, replacing it with a section of his newspaper. He then reached under the paper and pulled her skirt up just enough for his hand to touch her hotness. His finger touched her, opening her lips up. He felt her wetness and smiled. His little finger massaged her, and for some reason his touch catapulted her back to the memory of when she was four years old. And when her uncle touched her there on top of her panties and filled her with feelings she was too young to understand. She shooed away the evil thoughts of her first sexual encounter and brought herself back to the reality of her sensuous moment.

  She closed her eyes as Deacon continued to tease her this way, her mind, her thoughts, everything was between her legs. His touch was so intense and she moved a little so he would be right where she wanted him, but again, he pulled his hand away. He leaned over.

  “Now it’s time to use the bathroom again, and this time, I’ll go first.”

  He left and she soon followed behind. She tapped on the door and he pulled her into the small cubicle. He had his hardness out in his hand, and with one swift move he placed her on the sink again and entered her wetness with it. She moaned.

  “Please don’t leave me until I come,” she whispered. He smiled that innocuous smile of his and pushed hard into her while holding her with his arms to keep her from falling into the sink. She wrapped her legs around him as he continued to take her. As she felt her climax approaching, she kissed him. He held her close, as she tightened herself ready for the event and moaned softly, “I’m coming, I’m coming.” He groaned, but then withdrew again. He placed her on the toilet, washed his hands, and left her there.

  What kind of man does this? She wondered how he could bring her to the brink of desire and then leave her frustrated. She composed herself as best she could and left the bathroom. Upon arriving at her seat she walked in front of him and sat down at the window again. He handed her the newspaper again, but this time she threw it on the floor. She was furious. She wanted to come and she was tired of playing his ridiculous games. She moped as he flashed that tantalizing smile at her again. He patted her lap and continued to read, whispering in a melodic tone, “All in good time.”

  She squirmed in her seat for a few minutes, thinking over the situation, then got up from her seat and marched back to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet and placed her fingers on her button. She was in control, not him, massaging her sex and thinking of him and his hardness at the same time. She rubbed it until she felt the climax approaching. It felt so wonderful, just a few more rubs and she would be able to resist him . . . but there was a tap on the door. Thinking it was someone who had to use the toilet, she got up, flushed, and opened the door. Deacon pushed her back, turned her around and bent her over the sink, lifting her skirt with the same force he’d used in the conference room. He penetrated her fiercely, then took it out, reaching around to touch her swollen, aching button. He massaged her and filled her with his finger at the same time. Holding her tight, he pushed deep inside her again, filling her with his hardness. After a few slow and taunting pushes, he sped up and she exploded with such force, her whole body shook as he emptied himself inside her. He cleaned up, patted her on the butt, bent down and kissed her on the neck, and left. She couldn’t move. She was numb, relaxed, and completely spaced out. Did that really just happen? She freshened up and left the room, amid the whispers of the other first-class passengers who by now had figured out what had just taken place. Chin held high, she waved them off with a smug flip of her hair as she found her way back to her seat.

  Deacon continued to read the paper, never glancing up to look at her, but he did slip his hand into her lap. After a few minutes, he whispered in her ear.

  “Nice one, thank you.” He leaned over and kissed her, and the last remaining onlookers finally turned their heads. She felt her desire slowly rekindling. He smiled and went back to his paper. She opened up the book, but couldn’t get him out of her mind. The way he teased and touched her, his smell, and the wonderful hardness that always left her wanting more . . . her mind refused to think about anything else. She tried to read but realized it was ridiculous. She couldn’t focus on anything but him. She looked back over at him and he was sleeping.

  She waited a short while, then slowly got up and went back to the bathroom, where his scent still lingered. She sat on the toilet and rubbed herself, trying to recapture the essence of the moments before. A tap on the door interrupted her. She got up and opened the door. It was Deacon again. He took her in his arms, kissing her, pulling her skirt up as he unzipped his pants and entered her once more. He held her tight in his arms as he moved her over to the sink, where he took possession of her without stopping. He kissed her passionately, moving his hands all over her body, sucking on her breasts, cupping her face, kissing her until she didn’t know where she was. All she cared about was the moment. She felt herself getting ready to climax, she prayed, don’t pull out . . . don’t stop . . . and he didn’t. They came together. He held her close, kissing her and whispering in her ear. She looked into his eyes, so warm and wonderful that she cherished the closeness they both felt.

  After returning to their seats, they were parched and famished. They ordered some wine and snacks from the attendant as they chatted over what to do when they landed. Deacon suggested dinner in the hotel dining room. She agreed and tingled with delight as she imagined a wonderful night in Paris together.

  Their hotel, Chez Vous, was beautifully decorated in Louis XVI style, including the large crystal chandelier hanging heavily in the lobby. After she checked in, she unpacked and carefully chose her outfit for the evening. It was early morning in Paris, so she took a hot bath, put on her fluffy terry robe, and slid into bed for some well-deserved rest. Her alarm rang about 6:00 p.m., and she got up feeling refreshed. She dressed in her short silky navy skirt, white clinging top, navy thigh-highs, and high navy boots, then left to meet the man of her dreams.

&nbs
p; They met in the lobby as he escorted her to the restaurant, which was close to the hotel.

  “I thought we were going to eat in the hotel’s restaurant,” she said as they left the building.

  “I had another thought,” he mused.

  They had a wonderful meal, and he never even made a pass at her the entire time, much to her disappointment.

  “Oh, I am so full,” she said, pressing her hand to her mouth as she looked at him. “I think I’d like to walk off this wonderful dinner. Would you like to join me? I’m going to my favorite bridge, Pont Neuf.”

  He smiled and said, “No thanks, I have something else to take care of.” He kissed her on the forehead, and before she knew it, he was gone. She swished around, holding her head high, and she walked out of the restaurant alone.

  The night was breezy. She felt good about herself as her boot heels clicked along the cobblestone street. She caught a reflection of herself in the windows as she closed in on the bridge, her short navy silk skirt moving with her body, her mid-white top clinging to her large bosom, her hair flowing past her shoulders in the breeze. She felt spectacular on this perfect night. Soon she saw Pont Neuf in the distance and she was enamored. It was her favorite spot in Paris, the ideal place to watch boats and enjoy the scenery. She could linger for hours, admiring the vessels as they passed by, spreading her long legs just wide enough for the air to tickle her down there, stimulating her with chills that traveled across her warm body.

  She placed her arms on the ledge and looked down at the boats going under, wondering if the occupants could see up between her legs. She never wore panties, as they stopped her from feeling the air on her sex. She heard footsteps approaching to the left of her and then they stopped. Her heart also stopped when she smelled the cologne, a familiar fragrance, as it permeated the Parisian air with romance. She smiled as she felt one of his hands on her butt, and the other lifting up her skirt and rubbing between her legs casually. She felt the heat of his legs close to her and his hands on the middle of her back, a face next to hers and breath on her neck as she heard the sound of a zipper. She felt his hardness touching her ass and felt something between her legs. His foot moved her legs apart while his arms reached around her hips, arching her back. He fondled her pit of passion, then with one motion, slid deep inside her. He moved so slowly at first. She moaned at his size, his hardness, and the wonder of the whole dark night. He continued to take her. She threw her head back as he violated her this way. He rubbed her with his talented fingers and moved her as his foot pushed her feet farther apart so he could get into her deeper. His hardness rubbed itself inside her wetness, back and forth it went. Her heart was beating faster. Her head tilted backward but she could not see his face. He rubbed her clit as he took her from behind, touching her sensitive parts and her ass, rubbing her faster, speeding up his assault on her. She felt herself coming and heard his breathing quicken. Harder . . . deeper . . . he tilted her ass up for more penetration of his hardness, her space expanding, welcoming him in as he throbbed and pulsated. His cum hit her walls and ran down her legs. Her juice mixed with his as she felt her knees weaken. She held on to the railing, catching her breath. When she turned to look behind her, no one was there. He was gone. She took out a tissue and wiped her legs clean.