by Kallysten
He looked completely stunned at the question. “Did I fantasize about Marvin?”
She couldn’t help chuckling, and the tension broke with the sound. Brad pulled on her hand, drawing her closer. Wrapping her arms around him was such a normal, habitual thing that she was doing it before she even knew it.
“No, before him,” she said, keeping her eyes locked with his. “What was her name? Cynthia?”
Brad blinked. “Cindy?” He started laughing, but stopped right away, and simply shook his head. “She was old enough to be my mother!”
Biting on the inside of her cheek, Joan tried to find her words. She felt a little self-conscious at having to admit she had watched the videos, but if she wanted to understand, she had to.
“I…looked at the clips you watched,” she said diffidently after a few seconds. “And they’re all…”
She didn’t know how to finish. When Brad winced, however, she figured he understood what she meant. He pressed a kiss to her temple and sighed softly.
“Remember that internship when I was in college?”
Joan nodded; her throat suddenly felt tight, and she was afraid of what he might confess.
“My boss…” He cleared his throat. “Well, she was hot. But it was just a college boy’s fantasies. Nothing ever happened, I promise.”
“A college boy’s fantasies?” she repeated. “You’re not a college boy anymore.”
He sighed, and the slight puff of air caressed her cheek as delicately as fingertips.
“I know,” he murmured. “I’m sorry. I’d never cheat on you. You believe that, don’t you?”
He pulled back and looked at her, his eyes searching her face, begging her to believe him. Immediately, she nodded. She didn’t need to think about it, not for a second. She did believe him, trust him with her heart. She always had, and in all these years he had never let her down. Maybe it was why this small indiscretion had been so hurtful.
The rest of the evening was subdued. That night, Joan went to bed wrapped around Brad—like she did every night. Nothing more than a gentle goodnight kiss happened before she closed her eyes. For a long time, she couldn’t find sleep, her mind going over the events of the day.
She loved Brad more than she could express in words, and their lovemaking had never lacked in any way. He had been her first boyfriend, the first boy she had kissed, the first man she had made love with—the only man. Sometimes, though, across the years, she had wondered what it would have been like to be with another man. Sometimes—more often—she wondered if Brad regretted not having ever been with another woman.
Could she try to give him that, or at least a taste of it? She could not imagine sharing him, of course not. They did not have that kind of marriage, and they never would. But there were other options, maybe. She was a simple woman where sex was concerned; plain vanilla, as she had heard it called, was fine for her. Could she extend her horizons? Could she do it for Brad?
The decision wasn’t very hard to make, but it lifted a weight from her chest, and allowed her to breathe more easily suddenly. She figured out what she would do, step by step, and planning helped calm her mind. Pressing a light kiss over Brad’s heart, she finally fell asleep.
The next morning, a call to Daisy arranged for the kids to go to the movies with Clara and her father. Right after lunch, the boys jumped in the car with Brad to ride to Daisy’s, and Joan started her preparations.
She never used wrapping paper, instead placing the Christmas gifts in brightly colored sturdy, white and red gift boxes that she reused year after year. Pulling one of the small boxes she hadn’t needed this year out of the closet, she placed one of Brad’s ties inside it. On top of the tie, she laid a note that she had rewritten four times to get the wording just right.
Your scheduled evaluation will take place at 1PM. Come prepared to reflect on your performance and contribution to the company.
She closed the box and wove a red ribbon around it. It was a gift she was offering Brad, and she hoped he would receive it as such.
Feeling more anxious than excited, she dressed for the part, slipping on a white shirt, a pencil skirt that stopped an inch shy of her knees, fishnet stockings she hadn’t worn in years and high heels. She had last worn the shirt in college, and it was tighter than she remembered, pulling taut across her chest so that the lacy edge of her bra was clearly outlined against the sheer cotton. She left the top two buttons undone as well, exposing a generous amount of cleavage. The finishing touch was her reading glasses, which she perched on top of her nose; one of the women in those videos had worn glasses just like these—although she hadn’t worn them, or her clothes, for very long.
She went to wait for Brad in the office. Even with the door closed, she could hear him come into the house. Standing behind the door, she listened closely. He had stopped in the kitchen, where she had left the box. When she heard him walk again, he seemed to go up the stairs and to their room.
Swallowing nervously, Joan sat down, her back to the door, and pressed her hands flat onto the desk. She felt more than a little silly, suddenly, and she had half a mind to stop it all now, before it went any further, before—
Two knocks on the door startled her enough that she jumped. It was too late to back down now, she told herself, and in truth she wasn’t sorry. Maybe it would be awkward and terrible, but maybe it would be a little bit like Brad’s fantasies. She could do this for him.
“Come in,” she said, forcing herself to speak as loudly and confidently as she could manage.
The door opened and Brad stepped in even as Joan pushed away from the desk. The chair pivoted until she was facing him. He had changed out of his jeans and woolen sweatshirt and into a pair of dress pants, a white shirt, and the tie she had placed in the box. He had even slicked and combed his hair back, like he used to do when he was in college.
Joan’s heart missed a beat when she noticed the way he was watching her, his eyes trailing over her crossed legs, where her skirt had ridden up and exposed the lacy edge of her stockings, before sliding to her chest. He had to have a plunging view into her cleavage, she realized, and breathed in a little more deeply.
“You wanted to see me, Ma’am?”
The look of pure hunger on his face was getting to her, and she had to clear her throat before she could answer.
“You’re late,” she said in a sharp tone, looking at him above the rim of her glasses. “You’ve been late too often this month. I think you’re not taking this job all too seriously.”
“I do,” he said very fast. “I really do. I work hard.”
“That’s for me to judge. And so far, I’m not impressed.”
Crossing her arms, she leaned back in her chair, and considered Brad with her hardest look. She had thought, when she had started planning all this, that she would have trouble getting through it, but it was slowly becoming easier, more so than she had expected—and actually, rather fun.
“You’ve been late three times this week. And the quality of your work is less than adequate. Maybe I made a mistake when I hired you.”
Brad’s eyes widened as though in fear, but she knew him well enough to guess the smile he was trying to suppress.
“Please don’t fire me. I’ll do anything.”
She hadn’t heard that slight waver in his voice in years, maybe even decades. It reminded her of how nervous he had been when they first started dating—so nervous, in fact, that she had given up on waiting for him to ask her to their prom, and had invited him instead. To see him so nervous in front of her again was strangely arousing.
“Anything?” she asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
“Anything,” he repeated. The word caught in his throat and came out with a light squeak.
She nodded, trying to project a confidence that wasn’t fully hers. “Prove it,” she said with a thin smile. “Undress.”<
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He blinked twice under her hard gaze, the tip of his tongue flicking out to moisten his lips. After a couple more seconds, he reached for his tie, pulling on it to loosen it.
“No,” she said, sharply enough that he started. “Leave the tie on. Just that.”
He froze, as though taking her words in, then nodded and let go of the tie, reaching beneath it to undo the buttons of his shirt.
She uncrossed her legs as she watched him, then crossed them again the other way, causing her skirt to ride a little higher. He didn’t fail to notice, and his fingers fumbled a little on the buttons of his shirt. She wanted to help him, wanted to touch the strip of skin he was exposing with each button he pulled free, but she forced herself to remain still, her fingers linked together on her knee.
His shirt finally fell to the floor, soon followed by his belt, his pants, and boxers. He had come to her barefoot, she noticed, but couldn’t make herself care about that, not when it meant he was naked in front of her that much faster.
His body was trembling by the time he was done. She let her eyes roam over him, trying to imagine she had never seen him this way before. He was beautiful. Maybe he wasn’t as much in shape as he had once been, maybe his abs weren’t as well defined, but there was a quiet strength about him, a solidness that spoke of self-confidence and determination.
“You said you intended to work hard, I believe,” she said quietly as she stood, her gaze meeting his squarely.
“Yes.”
His voice was rough, needy. She hadn’t even touched him yet, and he was already fully erect, his cock bobbing in front of him, begging for attention. Without looking down, she reached for it and simply held it in her hand, feeling the weight of it. His pupils dilated at her touch, and his cock hardened a little more. The slight hitch in his breathing was lovely.
“I see how hard, yes,” she murmured. After pumping her fist along his cock a couple of times, she let go and dropped her hand to her side. “On your knees,” she demanded, struggling to keep her voice strong and dry. “Take my panties off.”
He fell to his knees at once and shifted closer to her, his eyes never leaving hers even when he trailed his hands up her legs. Through the thin weave of her stockings, each of his fingertips left a trail of fire. Her skirt rode up when his hands slipped beneath it. He hesitated for an instant, his gaze asking her if this was all right.
“Keep going.”
His thumbs hooked onto the sides of her panties and he slowly tugged them down her legs. When he reached her calves, she rested her hand on his head for support and raised her feet, one after the other, allowing him to slip the underwear completely off her.
After she’d finished hiking the skirt over her hips, she pushed the chair to the side and sat on the edge of the desk, her arms propped behind her, her legs parted ever so slightly.
“Eat me,” she demanded, and was thrilled at the shudder she could see coursing through Brad. It wasn’t the tone she usually used in the bedroom, nor the words, but that was how the woman had ordered her supposed employee to pleasure her in that first video, and it fit the role Joan had chosen for herself.
Brad crawled to her on his knees, his eyes never leaving her face. He laid his hands on her thighs and, very gently, pushed them apart to slip between them and move even closer to her. Still as gentle, he guided her right leg up and onto his shoulder, opening her to him completely. His mouth felt a little chapped and rough when he pressed a kiss to her thigh, half on the upper edge of her stockings, half on her skin. He licked his lips before tracing a wet line from her thigh to the apex of her legs, going much too slowly for Joan’s taste.
Resting her weight on one hand, she clutched the back of his head with the other and pushed him where she wanted him.
“Better,” she murmured, her eyes closing for a second, when he pressed his tongue flat against her folds.
He drew his tongue straight up, ending at her clit and giving it a few teasing licks. Looking down at him was almost too much. The touch of his lips and tongue was delightful, but on top of the glimmers of pleasure sparking through her, Joan was mesmerized by the way his tongue played against her, at first tracing her flesh and gathering her wetness, but soon pushing inside her and fucking her like a small cock. It made her yearn for more—for his actual dick stretching her and filling her in a way his tongue couldn’t.
Soon, she promised herself. Very soon.
Her fingers tightened in his hair, drawing a small grunt from him.
“My clit,” she said in a strangled moan. “Suck on my—”
Before she could finish, he was already obeying, his lips closing on her clitoris and sucking tight. Joan let out a shaky breath, then groaned. His right hand let go of her leg to slide upward. He pressed two fingers against her folds until they were slick, then slipped them inside her, curling them to find her most sensitive spot. At the same moment, his sucking on her clit changed, accentuating then stopping, his lips replaced by his teeth as he delicately bit her.
Joan gasped. “Again. More.”
He complied at once, his fingers pressing more insistently against that spot even as he held her clit between his teeth and pulled back a little. The sparks that had been flickering inside Joan coalesced, and her body turned rigid as pleasure ignited inside her, radiating from her clit and cunt and throughout her body. Her toes curled, causing her shoe to slip off her right foot and tumble to the floor with a muted noise. Brad’s touch was too much, suddenly, and she drew his head away from her. He looked up at her, desire filling his eyes. His mouth was shiny, and he licked his lips with relish.
“All right,” she said, breathless and still shaking. “I see maybe you do want to keep your job.”
For an instant, he grinned at her, his eyes sparkling, and it was clear he thought the game was over. She wasn’t done, though, and before he could break out of character she reached for the last prop she had placed on the desk before his arrival and said, “How about a promotion? How badly would you want that?”
His grin wavered when she held out the condom to him. He hesitated before taking it, and she clucked her tongue in reprobation.
“Well?” she said impatiently. “I thought you wanted to impress me. Are you changing your mind?”
Without a word, he took the foil package from her and tore it open. A small shiver ran through Joan at the sound. She took her glasses off and watched, her lips pinched tight not to whimper, as Brad rolled the condom over his cock. It had been years since they had used one of those, and she almost felt like they were back in college. The difference was that, back then, it would never have occurred to her to role-play like they were doing now.
As difficult as it was to tear her gaze off his cock, she kicked off her remaining shoe and turned around, facing the desk and bending down to clutch its edge with both hands. Brad’s hand on her hip drew her further back, gently forcing her lower. His foot slipped between hers and pushed lightly until she spread her legs further apart. She caught her own reflection in the dark computer screen, and could hardly recognize herself in the image she saw: open-mouthed and breathing hard, her breasts all but spilling out of her blouse as she bent low and waited for—
The tip of his cock brushed against her folds. Mindlessly, she arched a little more, trying to help him, but to no avail. His entire length slipped along her wetness, smearing it on her thighs and up the crack of her ass, but without entering her.
He was teasing her, she realized with a flash of incredulity.
“This is not—”
He pushed inside her. One hard thrust, and his balls were slapping against her flesh. The rest of her reprimand vanished in a gasp, then a second one when he withdrew only to slam back in again.
“Oh God, Brad…”
The force of his thrusts took her by surprise, and her hold on the edge of the desk slipped. She caught herself just in time before hitti
ng the desk. Brad slowed down at once.
“Are you—”
“Don’t you dare stop now,” she grunted. Pushing the keyboard and mouse away, she lowered herself to rest against the desk and glanced back over her shoulder.
Brad’s eyes were dark with desire. He met her gaze, then his grip on her hips tightened and he started moving again, falling back right away into the same hard pace he had first established. Each thrust drew breathless moans from Joan, and she closed her eyes tight. The feel of his cock was incredible. She had told him to fuck her, and he was doing exactly that, rutting against her as though they had been near strangers, as though there was nothing more to this than the satisfaction of two bodies.
His hands slid along her back to grip her shoulders. He held her in place, even pushed her back toward him as he continued to push inside her, setting fire to every bit of her that he touched. Every so often, the tip of his tie brushed along her back like a silky caress, adding yet another layer of sensations.
“Brad… Please just…”
She didn’t know what she was pleading for; she only knew that she was close, so close, and her body was crying out for something. Brad shifted his stance behind her, his legs now pressed along the inside of her own. On his next thrust, the angle of his cock piercing her had barely changed at all—but that small difference made sparks of light erupt behind Joan’s closed eyelids to the sound of her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She came with a wordless cry, tumbling into pleasure as though into a bottomless pool of light.
It took her a few seconds to realize that Brad had stopped moving and was resting against her, trembling, his face pressed between her shoulder blades.
His softened cock slipped out of her, but his arms curled around her waist, pulling her up, close against his chest. Her knees were wobbling, and she was grateful for the support. Taking a couple of stumbling steps back, he abruptly sat down onto the chair, pulling her down onto his lap. She leaned back against him, resting her head on his shoulder and covering his arms with hers. Her heartbeat was slowly calming, as did his harsh breathing, but pleasure still coursed diffusely through her.