I slipped lower in my seat and my legs spread as I imagined walking up behind him and trailing a hand down his arm. He looked up and smiled at me as I walked around the sofa to stand in front of him in my laciest, sexiest underwear. As I swayed in time to the porn soundtrack beat he continued to fondle himself.
I slipped my hand into my knickers as I lay on Mr Holloway’s couch and felt very naughty indeed. I had never been so blatantly sexual in his home before and part of me was scared stiff of him discovering what I was doing, but the rest of me was so turned on I ignored the fear bubbling up in my chest and concentrated on the excitement created between the rubbing of my finger and the action in my mind.
In my fantasy I swayed forward and Mr Holloway reached out and grabbed my hips. I started to think of him as Jake as he pulled me towards him until I was straddling his lap, my arms around his neck. As I imagined his cock slipping into me, I rubbed fingers over my clit and moaned with excitement.
“Well, now there’s a sight I wasn’t expecting to see.”
My eyes flew open with a start and there in the doorway was Mr Holloway.
“Oh, my, I’m sorry Mr Holloway, I am so, so sorry.”
“Hush, Emma dear, it’s okay.”
“It’s just, I was cleaning up and I spilt your red wine all over my dress, none went on your carpet though and I had to take it off and wash it and...”
With every “and” I uttered he stepped closer and closer. I moved to stand but he forcefully shook his head.
“Stay there, don’t move.” His coat was thrown on the other end of the long, stylish sofa.
“I have dreamed of this so many times, Emma, don’t spoil my fantasy.”
He stood in front of me and I couldn’t pull my gaze away from his. His cold, cool eyes burned with something dangerous and exciting. He lowered himself to the seat beside me then reached out and ran a hand down my naked arm. I shivered.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, then leant in to kiss me. The moment his lips impacted on mine I exploded inside. My mind was a whirl of questions but my body ignored them and responded singularly to the heat in his kiss and then as abruptly as it started his lips were snatched from mine.
“Emma,” he snapped, “as beautiful as you are you should not be masturbating on my time. I do not pay you to sit around my living room wanking.”
“No, Sir, I know, Sir,” I babbled. “I don’t know what came over me and I’ll just go and see if my dress is okay to go in the dryer and I’ll keep out of your way...”
“Emma, shut up,” he snapped and I obeyed. “You’re not going anywhere until you accept your punishment for being so naughty.”
“Okay,” I replied, so confused. This man had just kissed me, now he was angry. “You should dock my wages.”
“I might just do that too, but first, I want you lying over my lap. I’m going to spank you.”
“Spank me?”
“Yes, and the longer it takes for you to shut up and bend over my knee the longer I will spank you for.”
A glimmer of understanding broke through the tumult of fear and confusion. I moved towards him then lowered myself over his lap.
“That’s better.” He stroked a hand down over my tabard. “I’ve wanted to do this for so long.” He flipped the thick material up and revealed my arse and the black lace of my underwear. “I have to say though, you’ve never worn such pretty underwear in my fantasies.”
He slipped the lace over my bottom and pushed the knickers down to my knees. I was bare and exposed and my cheeks were hot with embarrassment but arousal coursed through my veins.
He touched me gently at first, his big, soft hand with the thin, purposeful fingers stroked over my flesh and I relaxed beneath them, but then he struck. I yelped as hand cracked down on butt and shook with every impact. It hurt but the stinging tunnelled through me and turned into a slow burn of pleasure. I was getting off on his punishment and I could feel the evidence that he was enjoying it too pressed into my ribs to the side of me.
“Don’t do that again,” he said, emphasising each word with a spank. “You will not masturbate without my permission in future, do you hear me?”
“Yes, Sir,” I yelped, desperate for something more than slaps.
“Good girl,” he purred and rubbed his hand over my naked arse. “Now get back in that seat and show me what you were doing.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied again, eager to please him and equally as eager to release the built up tension inside me. I lifted myself off his lap and sat back down, gingerly, on the soft sofa. The stinging warmth of his smacks burnt still as I settled myself down and opened my thighs. My knickers fell to the floor in a heap as I moved. I lifted the front flap of my tabard and slid my fingers into my slit. I heard him hiss as I opened myself further to slip a finger inside myself and when I pulled it out it was covered in my juices. As I rubbed my own, personal lube over my clit Jake scrambled to the floor and pushed the coffee table back out of the way. He knelt there between my thighs as I wanked.
Suddenly I felt like the one in control. He was mesmerised by my every movement and I played up to that. I revelled in the heat of his stare. I was lost in my desire and no longer did I feel the embarrassment and guilt of being caught in the act. All I wanted was satisfaction.
“Fuck,” he cursed, pushing my thighs apart to get a better look. “I need to taste you.”
I yelped as he grabbed and pulled me forward, then moaned as his hot lips pressed against my inner thigh. I was dreaming; I was sure of it. I knew eventually I’d wake up and think wow, what a fantastic dream and I was determined to enjoy every minute of it like a dream. I would not worry about what may happen in the future; I was going to enjoy the pleasure of that very moment and nothing else.
His tongue flicked across my lips and my finger and I moved my hand out of the way to allow Jake more access to me. He dug in as if I was a hot meal and he hadn’t eaten for days. Within moments I was screaming out my pleasure as the ecstasy built inside me and begged to be released.
I dug my hands into his hair, curled it around my fingers and cradled his head against me, greedy for my release. “Yes,” I yelled as my climax hit me. My legs locked and shivered as my body rolled and I pressed my pelvis up to get the most contact with his mouth. He sucked and slurped in such an instinctive manner and pulled my orgasm out, extending the pleasure, and as I became too sensitive his licks became slower and more soothing.
“Wow,” he gasped when he’d finished devouring. “Oh, fuck, Emma I need to be inside you now, I’m aching for you.”
“I really want you to fuck me,” I replied. “I’ve wanted you to fuck me since the day we met.”
I couldn’t believe I was being so brazen. Orgasms make you brave though, I think.
“Same here,” he said, pushing my legs and twisting me around until I laid flat along the sofa. “I’ve never seen anyone look so sexy in a pink overall.”
I giggled. “Sexy? Are you sure?”
“Hell yes,” he replied as he stood and undid his belt before working his trousers down his legs. “It was in your eyes and the shake of your hips and I wanted you then.”
“I can’t believe this,” I groaned when he slipped into position between my legs. “I’ve fantasised about this so many times, I was convinced I was too old for you.”
“Never,” he replied as he thrust forward and pierced me. “You are beautiful, so beautiful.”
He found his rhythm, it was not fast and furious nor was it slow and silky, but it was just between the two and it drove me crazy with desire. I wrapped my legs around his waist and pulled him deeper within me with each thrust. I ran my hand down his lightly haired chest and marvelled at its contours.
“I’m going to come, Emma,” he gasped. “I can’t hold on much longer, I need to fill you.”
&nb
sp; “Yes, Jake,” I panted, my nails curling into his skin. “Come for me.”
And he did with a satisfied grunt. He fell forward to rest on top of me and I wrapped my arms around his slim frame.
“I’ll have to remember to masturbate at work more often from now on,” I smiled.
“And I’ll have to come home early to watch you,” he replied.
“Sounds like a good arrangement to me.” I gently kissed his forehead.
“Me too,” he replied, “but will you do me a favour?”
“Sure,” I nodded then kissed his cheek, “what do you want?”
“Will you wear the pink overall next time?”
Also Available from House of Erotica
Just Couldn’t Wait
Lucy Felthouse
Carla was pissed off. She’d made an awful lot of effort for this event, and it was totally bombing. As a freelance journalist, you never know when you’ll need a favour, so Carla had dressed up and attended in order to keep everyone happy. The evening was the launch of some perfume or another - it was basically an excuse for a glitzy party and some networking. Unfortunately, though, it wasn’t doing anything for Carla, networking or otherwise.
Hell, the party was posh enough. There was plenty of food and drink to go around, but the company sucked. All the fun people clearly had better things to do this evening. Which is why Carla was displaying behaviour most unlike her; she was being a wallflower. There were hardly any people around that she knew, and the ones she did know, she didn’t particularly like.
Lurking in the corner, she observed. Not that there was much to look at. Bores chatting amongst themselves, bouncy PR girls talking up the product, stuffing samples into pockets and handbags, and waiters whizzing around with trays of champagne.
I need to get me some of that, thought Carla. Some bubbles might make the evening go more quickly.
She sidled out of her corner and moved towards the centre of the room, ready to snag a glass from the next tray that zipped past. Seconds later, a waiter headed in her direction. However, by the time the contents of his tray were in grabbing distance, Carla had forgotten all about the champagne.
The guy was gorgeous. How on earth had she not noticed him before? The evening would have been much more interesting had she had some eye candy to perv on. And this fella was definitely eye candy. Boxes of it, in fact.
Reaching across to claim her flute of bubbles, Carla took the opportunity to study the waiter more closely. She reckoned he was around the same age as her. He was tall; incredibly tall, actually. Six foot four or so, Carla guessed. He towered over her, even though she wore heels. He had dark hair, roughly chin length and clearly with a mind of its own. A cute snub nose and big baby blues simply added to the vision of gorgeousness before her. And that was before taking his attire into consideration.
Carla had never really thought about it before, but she decided there and then that waiters’ get-ups were hot. They were just so prim and proper-looking, with their pristine white shirts, natty bow ties and sharp creases. It was also what it represented - polite society and good behaviour. Carla immediately wanted to corrupt him. She was sure he was no angel, despite his current persona, but still - in a uniform like that, she could pretend.
Thanking the waiter for her drink and treating him to a broad smile and a dash of the come-to-bed eyes, Carla retreated to her corner. Presently, as the alcohol did its work and her imagination got fired up, Carla decided the only way to alleviate the boredom of the evening would be to make some entertainment of her own. And that included the mighty fine waiter, she surmised. Yes, it was time for some corruption.
Carla looked around, and concluded that she was not really in the prime location for seduction. She needed to be near a destination, or at least a through-route, rather than tucked away in the corner. Watching the busy to-ing and fro-ing for a little longer, Carla made her move.
Ah, perfect. From her new vantage point near to the kitchen doors and the corridor leading off to the toilets, Carla had it all. She could watch Mr Gorgeous’ ass as he wandered away from her, and strive for eye contact as he came back.
After a few rounds of this, Carla finally had some success. Mr Tall-and-Hunky had clocked her standing there. And just when she’d thought he couldn’t get any more perfect, he smiled. Wow. Perfect teeth and adorable dimples in both cheeks. His face lit up and he appeared very wholesome - which only increased his attractiveness, in Carla’s opinion.
She grinned back and wiggled her empty champagne glass at him. His tray was full of empties, so he took hers and added it to his load, promising, “I’ll be back with more in a couple of minutes. Don’t go away.”
Carla had no intention of going anywhere. Not alone, anyway.
Good to his word, he came back shortly, complete with plenty of champagne. He made a bee-line for Carla, inclined his head and said, “Your champagne, madam.”
“Well, I only wanted one, but thanks! You due a break yet?”
Looking at his watch, he replied, “I guess. I don’t normally bother, but if you’ve a better offer...”
“Oh, I have. Will the boss notice you’re missing?”
He laughed, flashing those dimples again. Carla swooned inwardly. “I doubt it. Let me empty this tray and I’m all yours.”
Carla watched him weave effortlessly through the crowd, willing people to be thirsty so his tray would empty more quickly. Then he was all hers. Smiling to herself, she let her mind wander, thinking of exactly what she was going to do when she got her hands on him. Typically, just as things were starting to get interesting, her reverie was disturbed. Fortunately, it was by him.
“With you in a sec,” he said, whizzing past once more.
Carla grinned. He seemed keen. She wondered if he was just hoping for a snog, or whether he realised she was up for more. She’d find out soon enough.
He emerged from the kitchen, clutching an open bottle of champagne. It looked almost full. He nodded to her, indicating she should follow him, and he dashed down the corridor, clearly not wanting to be caught. As he headed towards the restrooms, Carla felt mildly disappointed. She’d wanted corrupt, not seedy.
She needn’t have worried. He headed past the Ladies’ and Gents’ toilets and made for a third door, adorned with the signage ‘Private.’
Fair enough, thought Carla, at least we won’t be interrupted.
They burst through the door, eager to escape prying eyes. There were gossips, newspaper columnists and photographers around, after all. Placing the bottle on a desk, Mr Cute Smile pulled the door tightly shut behind them and flipped the lock.
“Will this do? It’s not exactly ideal, I know, but I did my best in the circumstances!”
They were in an office of sorts. It was pretty sparse, with a desk, computer and chairs.
“This is fine,” Carla replied, grabbing the champagne and taking a swig from the bottle. “I didn’t come for the scenery, anyway.”
She offered him the bottle, and he took several long gulps before Carla thought to question, “Can’t you get into trouble for taking that champagne? Not to mention drinking on the job! What about the boss?”
“It’ll be fine, don’t worry about it.”
“Well, if you’re sure...”
Carla gave up. She’d done her bit; if he wanted to risk his job for a shag, then so be it. She held out her hand for the bottle, and he passed it to her. As the bubbles fizzed in her mouth and down her throat, a thought occurred to her. Swallowing, Carla said, “We should introduce ourselves, really, shouldn’t we? I’m Carla. I’m a journalist and I don’t really want to be here. Though I’m kind of glad I am now.”
“I’m Sam. I run my own company hiring out waiters and waitresses for high-profile events. I’m terribly short-staffed right now and I don’t want to be here either. Funnily, I
don’t mind so much now either.”
Ah, that answers that one then, Carla thought. Taking another sip of fizz, she put the bottle back on the desk and stepped towards Sam. She pushed him towards the desk until the edge hit his legs. He sat down, putting him at a much more manageable height. Then she kissed him. He tasted of champagne and smelled of a subtle but masculine scent. He slipped his arms beneath hers, grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. His strength had put her a little off-balance and her instinct was to grab his biceps to steady herself. It didn’t work. Carla’s fingers had encountered solid muscle - and plenty of it, which resulted in her feeling all the more giddy. Was there no end to this guy’s perfection?
Still grasping one of his arms and squeezing - subtly, she hoped - she moved her other hand to his hair. Carla had always had a thing for guys with long hair. Too often though, guys either had awful pony tails or greasy locks - hardly a turn-on. Not so with Sam. His hair was clean and soft, ideal for tangling fingers into. So that’s what she did, using her grip as leverage to deepen their kiss. He responded by looping his hands together behind her back, completely enveloping her in his arms. Just as well, really, as the mixture of champagne and lust was turning Carla into a weak-kneed mess.
Realising neither of them was really in control of the situation any more, Carla decided to relax and just go with the flow. Their tongues explored one another’s mouths and their hands were wandering. Carla slipped her hand from Sam’s hair downwards. She briefly fiddled with his bow tie, grinning to herself as she remembered what he was wearing, then trailed her hand down his chest and torso. She encountered more muscle. He was definitely hiding a nice firm body beneath that outfit. And that wasn’t all, she noticed, as her hand pressed against the bump between his legs. His cock was rock hard and red hot through the thin material of his trousers. She got the impression that it was perfectly in proportion to the rest of him, too. She certainly hoped so.
Uniform Behaviour Page 4