Under Wraps: A Secret Baby Quarantine Office Romance (Love Under Lockdown Book 7)

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Under Wraps: A Secret Baby Quarantine Office Romance (Love Under Lockdown Book 7) Page 2

by Jamie Knight


  “Oh, well. I don’t usually go near those things. Isn’t it, like, five dollars per pistachio?”

  “Not really, but close,” I admitted with a laugh, “But it’s not a problem; knock yourself out.”

  Letting out a sound of joy, Emma dashed to the minibar, her bare feet moving easily on the floor. Had she been wearing heels, I might have worried. Down on her knees so she could open the door, her ass was even more visible; her skirt, which was already quite short for business wear, stretched tightly over the curvy flesh.

  An old and familiar urge bubbled up in me. I wanted so much to pull up her skirt, yank aside her panties, and devour her until she screamed with pleasure. However, realizing this would probably affect our working relationship, I restrained myself.

  I knew I couldn’t touch her. At least, not in the way I wanted. It was going to be difficult, but I would prevail.

  As she emerged, her arms full of goodies, I could see her goodies in profile, pressing up against the inside of her blouse, yearning to break free.

  “Sorry. I guess I went kinda nuts, huh?” Emma said, putting the bounty on the small dining table.

  “Not at all,” I said, looking her over again, not able to get enough.

  One thing that struck me was how young she looked. I knew Faust & Moore had a policy against hiring anyone under 25, so she couldn’t be more than nine years younger than me, but her age was hard to place; the fullness of her figure clashed somewhat with the innocence in her eyes and demeanour. I wondered if she was a virgin.

  “Wanna sit down?” she asked with a nervous giggle.

  “Certainly,” I said, pulling out the chair across from her.

  “Isn’t that better?”

  “Quite a bit, actually. So, tell me a bit about yourself.”

  “Well, I just moved to the city a couple of months ago. Relocated for the job.”

  “Where are you from originally?”

  “… No, I can’t say,” Emma said, trying to wave off the idea.

  “Why not?”

  “You’ll laugh at me.”

  “Why would I laugh?” I asked, trying to think of where it could be.

  “… I’m from Wyoming. There, I said it. Come on, I’m ready. Bring on the ‘big empty land’ jokes. I’ve heard ‘em all, I think. And yes, I did have a cow for a pet. Adorable little calf. Grew up, of course. Never ate her. Been a vegetarian since.”

  “That’s not funny at all,” I said.

  “It isn’t?” Emma asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

  “No. I think it’s sweet. A bit unusual, but there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Well, good, ‘cause I got that in spades,” Emma said. “Unusualness, I mean. And maybe some sweetness.”

  Oh, I’m sure you do, I thought to myself, And I’d love to take a taste.

  “So, you started at the firm a couple months ago? Did they hire you right out of college?”

  “Yeah, actually. I was really surprised. I only really sent in my resume ‘cause my best friend dared me to. I was pretty sure she was making fun of me, but I thought it was pretty funny too, and I figured, what the heck?”

  “‘What the heck?’” I repeated.

  “That’s what I thought.”

  “You actually use ‘heck?’”

  “Oh, um, yeah. My folks were pretty hard on cussin’. ‘Specially with me. Got my bottom burned a fair few times because of it. Mama would make me go out and find a switch, and then Daddy would put me over his lap. Only took a few times before I stopped all together.”

  “Well, they’re not here now. You can speak freely,” I said, seething with anger on the inside. I might have been interested in control, but only with people who gave it up freely. I was actually a big believer in personal autonomy as a general principle; you should only affect yourself and those who freely choose to engage with you. To use violence to impose your will on someone was horrific; it was the closet thing to a sin in my personal beliefs.

  “Really?”

  “Sure.”

  “Cool! I’m really looking forward to assisting you, and I’m more than ready and willing to do anything you need. Anything!”

  I couldn’t be sure, but the way she said it, it almost seemed like there was a double meaning to her words. I doubted that she knew all of what ‘anything’ would entail, when it came to the sexual realm, but it was still cute, and pretty damn arousing, for her to offer. Even though my logical mind knew that it could never really be, the potential was fun to think about.

  “I-I should go get my stuff. My work stuff. Stuff for work. In here, in this place of work,” Emma babbled, adorably flustered.

  Going back to her room through the adjoining door, I didn’t even look at her ass as she left, despite the fact that I desperately wanted to. It was the first step in what was sure to be a long road, but I was sure I could handle it. If only my cock agreed with my brain.

  My pants were suddenly feeling as though they were several sizes too small, despite the measurements being meticulous. I knew she would be coming back, but the issue had to be dealt with before then, or we were never going to be able to get any work done.

  Sitting on the toilet, which I swear actually had a pearl seat, I carefully unzipped my pants, there being a lot more of me than there had been when I first put them on, and hauled out my cock. The cool air in the bathroom felt lovely on the glistening head. Letting out a deep sigh, I wrapped my hand gently around the massive shaft and began to stroke.

  My mind was blank at first. I forced it to be so, lest I wander into some forbidden territory. It was too dangerous to even fantasize about Emma. The physical fact of her presence was troublesome enough.

  But I could barely even look at her without imagining her naked, and soon my mind conjured images of her lovely body prostrate before me as she knelt between my thighs, her soft, warm hands gently stroking my legs as she massaged my raging cock with her sweet little mouth, soothing my savage beast.

  I would gently wrap her braid around my hand, taking control of her head, gently guiding her as she sucked me toward orgasm. Suddenly introducing the tongue into the equation, rotating it around the head as she continued to suck... I started to stroke myself harder, hoping I wasn’t making too much noise, but a bit too preoccupied to care.

  Standing this imaginary Emma up in front of me, I turned her around and made her bend over, her pussy and ass fully exposed. I started massaging her ass, giving it firm squeezes between strokes. Then, when she least suspected it, I pulled her lips apart and buried my face into her sweet, pink pussy, licking and sucking like a man possessed.

  Emma moaned and yelped, struggling to keep herself still so I could keep licking her. I hadn’t actually given her permission to make noise, but it was so sexy, I decided to let it slide. Before long, a delicious tremble of pleasure ran though her, one I could actually feel on my lips as it shook its way through her pussy.

  Licking her clean, I stood up behind her. Keeping her in the same position, I lay a hand on her hip and stroked the head of my cock against her soaking, tender, open pussy, making her let out a long, soulful moan. Slowly, I eased my cock inside her until I was all the way in, my rock-hard pelvis brushing lightly against her beautiful ass. Her suddenly muffled moans let me know that she was biting her bottom lip to keep from making noise.

  Giving her a moment to get used to being stuffed so completely, I put my hand on her other hip; pulling back to about half-mast, I began to pump my cock inside her sweet little pussy. I could hardly believe the pleasure that washed over me. She felt so amazingly good, it was almost too much for my mind to hold. She was also making sounds I had never heard before, which made me think she was rather enjoying herself too. The more I pumped, the more relaxed I could feel her getting.

  I started gaining speed gradually, until I was fucking her at a good, steady rhythm. Emma sent up songs to Venus as I did so, letting her pleasure be known to all. Again, she began to tremble as a second orgasm rattled through
her like a freight train. I had to hold onto her to keep her from falling over as her knees buckled.

  Sitting back down, I guided her with me, keeping my cock deep inside her. Soon enough, my little darling rallied and started riding me reverse cowgirl style, which seemed oddly fitting. She leaned onto my knees with the flats of her palms for support as I kept a good hold of her hips, her luscious little pussy stroking the length of my throbbing shaft with increasing speed and intensity until she was pounding herself down on me with abandon, making her pleasure well known.

  To my surprise, she didn’t need a break after her third massive orgasm. As she moved up along me, I thought to take my cock out of her, which she did, stroking it as it came out of her thoroughly fucked pussy. She wasn’t finished yet, however. Angling my cock a bit more, she lowered herself back onto it, easing it slowly into her ass. I could hardly breathe, it felt so good, her tight little asshole squeezing me in its warm embrace.

  She looked stoic as she took it in, betraying no signs of significant pain. Getting halfway down my cock, Emma took up the same position she had with my cock in her pussy and started to ride me, getting to surprising speeds, nearly howling with pleasure as she pounded my monster cock into her beautiful asshole...

  I came in a gush, doing my best to catch it all in a wad of tissue, which was not unlike trying to stop a river with a mop. Getting cleaned up, I went out into the main room. The real Emma was already there, sitting at the table again, legs crossed, back straight, eyes clear, and ready for anything.

  Or so she thought. I wanted her so much. If I could, I would have taken her right there on the table, but I knew that could very well be the end of my career. That side of things would have to stay in the realm of fantasy.

  Chapter Three

  Emma

  I hadn’t seen him when I came back with my stuff. I figured he must be in the bathroom, or at the vending machine, or something, so I just sat back at the table and decided to wait. There were still lots of minibar goodies to be eaten, so I was set.

  I had never been to a hotel so nice. The only places I had ever stayed as a kid were motels along the interstate, the kind of places that usually catered to long-haul truckers and drunk teenagers from town. My daddy was the former and had been the latter, so he felt right at home there. I just hadn’t known any other life.

  It was the same with my hometown. I’d heard the stories of the big city, and I knew a fair few kids who dreamed of going there, of ‘getting out,’ as they called it. I never really felt like that. I guess it helped that we didn’t have a TV or Internet. Mama wouldn’t allow it. Said it brought the Devil in.

  When I was a teenager, though, my Daddy got me a smartphone, for emergencies, and to give me a small taste of normalcy.

  It was like a piece of alien technology. A treasure, and my own little secret.

  But the tempting lure of technology had sucked me in, and before long, I’d fallen down the rabbit hole of the internet.

  And one little pop-up had stirred a whole new awakening..

  Daddy never found out what I had done, which was lucky, because if he’d told my mama, I would have really been really in for it.

  For days after seeing the videos, I would think about them. They didn’t seem so bad, the way I remembered them. Pretty soon, I started to get pretty excited and would touch myself down there, gently rubbing my pussy as I remembered them. The incident with the phone when I was 15 was pretty much my sexual awakening, not just in terms of sexual feelings in general, but also realizing that I was ‘kinky.’

  I didn’t know what it was, but there was something about being dominated, about not being in control, that made me really horny; my pussy would get dripping wet and I couldn’t help but touch myself.

  I had seen Damien my first day at the firm. I didn't know his name then, of course, but seeing him had really cheered me up. I hadn’t had an easy time of it, coming in from Wyoming, with the airlines being their usual charming selves. I also hadn’t realized how difficult getting a taxi in the city was, or how expensive; the fare into town was more than half of the money I had brought with me.

  All the stress melted away when I saw him. It seemed silly, but I could almost feel the charm coming off of him. His handsome face and perfect body didn’t hurt, of course, but there was something else about him, something that made me feel safe – as well as super aroused. I knew I wanted to give up control to someone, to be dominated, and I knew right then that I wanted him to be the one to do it.

  Not that he knew that I was alive, of course. He was a top-level corporate attorney and I was just an assistant, fresh off the plane from the middle of nowhere. We also worked on different floors and in different departments. They had put me in with the family law gang with a nice enough woman named Sheri.

  I had suffered in silence for months, fantasizing that, one day, Damien would notice me and sweep me off my feet. A silly, girlish fantasy, I knew, but I could still dream.

  When I heard about the assignment to be quarantined in the hotel, it seemed like a miracle. There was no guarantee that I would be assigned to Damien; there were lots of lawyers who needed assistants, as most of them were opting to continue to work during the lockdown. Putting my nerves aside, I entered my name for the volunteer pool.

  I damn near fainted when they told me I had been assigned to Damien, and that we would be staying at the Hotel Seventy. It was the kind of place I couldn’t even dream of staying at on my salary. It was all so amazing; I could hardly contain myself.

  I actually slipped up containing it here and there, like the sound I’d made when Damien said I could raid his minibar. I blushed in retrospect, but, to be fair, I had barely ever even seen a minibar before, let alone allowed free run of one that someone else was paying for. It was like giving a kid a shopping spree in a candy store.

  He still hadn’t come out when I finished the last bit of the snacks. With nothing to distract myself, the throbbing in my pussy became a lot more pronounced. I did my best to ignore it. I thought about other things. I tried doing the alphabet backwards. It worked, for a while, but then I would hear it.

  I was pretty sure what Damien was doing in the bathroom, and wondering if he was thinking about me. Imagining he was, at any rate. Before I really knew what was happening, my hand was up my skirt and slipping into my panties.

  The first touch made me jump. My arousal was at full intensity, my pussy aching for stimulation. I, of course, would have preferred Damien’s tongue. That wasn’t going to be happening, though, so I would have to do it myself.

  I put my hand back down in there, just hoping he wouldn’t catch me. I gently petted my tender pussy, sending waves of pleasure rippling through me. Letting go, I let my mind drift to wherever it wanted to be.

  I was on my knees, the cool, smooth floor beneath me. My hands were behind my back, masterfully tied with silk ropes. My feet were crossed at the ankles and tied in the same manner with the same rope. Damien was siting in front of me, completely naked, like I was. I could see every inch of him, every well-defined muscle. He looked like a marble statue come to life.

  Except for his cock. His big, beautiful cock, standing at full attention, inches from my mouth, which was busy sucking his balls. It took one at a time, each being nearly too big by itself to fit in my little mouth. I started out by gently licking them, with long, loving caresses, before taking the first in my mouth. He let out a moan and I kept going, sucking gently. If I had my hands free, I would have stroked his beautiful cock while sucking his balls. My master wanted them tied, though, and what my master wanted, he got.

  Giving his other ball a good seeing to, I started to lick, running my tongue down the length of his shaft, from bottom to top, spiralling my tongue around his head.

  “Suck,” he ordered.

  Like the good little pet I was, I followed my sexy master’s instruction and dropped my whole mouth down his shaft until I had half-swallowed his wonderful cock. Easing back a bit so I wouldn’t gag mysel
f, I started sucking on my wonderful master’s beautiful cock, working his tasty cum up into my eager mouth.

  His load came in a massive torrent, like the spray of a fire hose; it was something of a challenge to keep it all in my mouth, yet still I prevailed, refusing to be defeated or let my master down.

  I came in real life, still imagining Damien’s perfect body. I wanted him all to myself. I wanted him to take me. To take my virginity and give me all the pleasures of womanhood. I wanted to be dominated. To be his.

  I wonder if it might happen during the assignment, if the crackling sexual tension between us might come to a head and explode in delicious pleasure for both of us. My rational mind told me not to be silly; he was my boss and off limits, though I found myself not actually caring very much. This realization was followed by the decision to seduce him and make him mine.

  I heard the click of the door handle and jumped up like it was a starter pistol, getting into my best approximation of a professional posture.

  Chapter Four

  Damien

  It was a beautiful sort of torture. Emma’s clothes were doing as much to accentuate her form as to conceal it. I wondered, however briefly, if it had been intentional. What seemed more likely was that she was going by what she was told in the corporate environment; not from her employers or the official company dress code, but from what she saw in the media.

  She certainly wasn’t the only one. If not for their haircuts and briefcases, most of my male colleagues at the firm would be more or less interchangeable. Their clothes, and even mannerisms, made them clones of each other, all of them doing what they thought they were supposed to.

  It made me stand out more, though I didn’t go completely off the reservation. No paisley shirts or plaid pants; my style was, if anything, more traditional. The difference between myself and my contemporaries was they went for a distinctly modern version of “tradition,” filtered through decades of changes. My style was straight out of the 1940s and wouldn’t garner a second look on the Oxbridge campuses.

 

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