by JB Brooks
Well, I’m finally going to have my cherry popped by this gorgeous guy who’s been initiating me into kinky sex all week long. I think he might be a Dom. Oh, and by the way, he only agreed to take me to the party because I’m going to sleep with him.
No way—I had a great relationship with my mother, but she was still my mother!
I still had two-and-a-half hours to go before Matt collected me. It was too early to get dressed and do my makeup. I decided to have a nap, as he’d suggested, so I lay down on the bed, but hot surges of excitement kept pulsing through my body like a fever in my blood. After twenty futile minutes I got up again and tried to think of something to do to take my mind off the evening ahead.
A sudden idea occurred to me. I went into my study, opened my notebook and fired up Google. I typed BDSM into the search field and hit return. Within moments I was so absorbed that I forgot about everything else, following link after link.
The sound of Matt’s car pulling into his driveway next door alerted me to the time. It was quarter to six, and I had to get moving or I wouldn’t be ready when Matt knocked on my door. My mind was whirling with everything that I had learned.
I put my contact lenses in and started with my makeup, keeping it light and simple until I got to my eyes. Carefully following the instructions on the smoky eye kit that I had bought, I plied on liquid eyeliner, three shades of gray eye shadow and volumizing mascara. I studied the result in the mirror. A sexy, sultry twin stared back at me, one I’d never seen before, though I’d always known she was inside me somewhere.
You look like a sub.
A sub waiting for her Dom.
I didn’t feel submissive—quite the opposite actually. I thought I was exceptionally lucky in finding an unusually skilled and imaginative tutor to initiate me into sex, but according to my “research” this afternoon, my relationship with Matt definitely qualified as a Dom/sub one.
I tried to decide if that bothered me.
The little that I’d heard and read before today had led me to believe that people in those types of relationships had deep-seated psychological problems, but now I knew that was not the case at all. Most of them did it simply because they enjoyed it, and many even swapped roles.
I made up my mind not to let it perturb me. Tonight was a special night, and I wasn’t going to let stereotyping internet literature spoil it.
I pulled on a lacy black thong and bra, the best that I owned, and black stay-up stockings with lacy tops. My beautiful dress was on its hanger, hooked over the bathroom door. I took it down and slid it carefully over my head, trying not to smudge my lipstick. It slithered across my skin in a sensuous rush. I smoothed it into position and looked at myself in the closet door mirrors. The gorgeous pewter fabric gleamed and shimmered, and my hair and skin seemed to glow from within. I knew, without a doubt, that I had never looked better.
My hair had settled from my attempts to blow-dry it and actually looked quite good. I slid my feet into my high-heeled black pumps. My lipstick, mobile and driver’s license went into my tiny, black-beaded purse. Then I took Matt’s bracelet out of its box. I trailed it lightly over the fabric of my dress to check if it would snag on the soft knit, but it was surprisingly smooth. Struggling a little, I managed to align the clasp with my left hand and push the little post through to click it shut. The join was all but invisible, and the bracelet looked like a solid cuff of diamonds loosely encasing my wrist, emphasizing the delicacy of my bones.
My conscience prickled again at actually wearing it, but I was determined to return it to him in the morning. It was strictly a loan and it looked amazing.
I was ready, and as I stood looking in the mirror, Matt knocked on the door.
Suddenly nervous, I went to let him in. We stared at each other across the threshold.
He was wearing tuxedo trousers and a classic white shirt with a black bow tie. He wore them well, but the tailored clothes could not conceal his sheer size, the width of his shoulders and arms, the weight of his thighs. Beneath the sophisticated veneer he exuded masculinity and raw sex appeal, and I was so attuned to him that my body began to throb just from the sight of him. My nipples pebbled and a tingling heat pooled in my belly and spread downward. Tonight—later, but not too much later—he would shed those clothes and cover me with his big body. He’d cage me with his tattooed arms and spread my thighs wide with his, bending me and opening me beneath him. Then he’d sink his huge cock into me, take me and invade me. However he did it, I was sure that his possession of me would be absolute.
I realized I was panting slightly and stepped back, allowing him to enter. He was also affected, his eyes glinting in the dim light and a telltale bulge in his trousers. He caught my arm, his long fingers forming a second cuff around my wrist.
“You wore it, Jane. That makes you mine. No going back.”
“Just for tonight, Matt. I’ll give it back to you in the morning. And it’s very beautiful—it makes me feel special to wear it.” He cocked a brow at me.
“We’ll see.”
He pulled me to him, very slowly, wrapping his arms around my waist. I slid my arms around his neck, molding my body to his, looking up at his hard, handsome face. He brushed his lips to mine in the lightest of kisses. I opened my mouth and he dipped his tongue in to taste me, our lips still barely touching. For long seconds he explored with the faintest pressure, leaving me longing for more. When I tried to seal my lips to his, he drew back and laughed.
“Don’t, Jane. You look so beautiful. We’ll mess up your makeup later, I promise.”
I whimpered in frustration.
He ran his hands over my ass.
“Have you got panties on, Jane?”
“A thong,” I whispered.
“Mmm. Much as I love thongs, I’m going to ask you to take it off and leave it here. I want to know that your pussy’s naked under that dress.”
“Yes, Matt.”
I reached under my dress and pulled off my thong. I immediately felt both sexy and vulnerable. I’d never been out without panties before, and the thought of going to the party with a bare cunt made me wet.
“Very good. If you’re ready then…”
I took the arm he offered and he led me out to his Jeep.
The drive to the Renaissance Plaza Hotel took about half an hour. I wanted to talk.
“Matt, how old are you? You know all sorts of things about me, but you’re very mysterious about yourself.”
He smiled. “Not that mysterious! All you have to do is ask.”
“Well, I’m asking!”
“I’m thirty-five. Way too old for you!”
Wow, he was eleven years older. I wouldn’t have guessed—his body certainly couldn’t be judged by the normal rules.
“It hasn’t stopped you.”
“No, and it’s not going to. You’re younger, but you’re no baby—and you’re way too old to be a virgin! How the hell did you manage to hang on to it all this time, looking like you do?”
I snorted. “How I look is part of the problem, as you well know. I’m a Plain Jane, and there’s no two ways about it.”
He glanced sideways at me, astonished. “Have you looked in the mirror lately, Jane? Plain is not a word I’d use to describe you.”
“Thank you, Matt,” I said, surprised, “I think it’s this dress.”
“Yes. And your makeup. And your hair. And your eyes. And your pretty face and pink lips. And let’s not forget your sweet ass and pert tits. And that silky little virgin pussy that you’ve waxed. Should I go on? Should I tell you what sexy feet you have, Jane, and how the shape of your legs makes me want to fuck you?”
I was silent, too flabbergasted to answer him. He smiled grimly.
“If you knew all the things I want to do to you, Jane, you’d run for the hills.” I shivered.
“But you were telling me how you managed to stay intact. I assure you, it has nothing to do with how you look. Besides, even ugly girls get boyfriends.”
That was true, and something I’d mulled over on many a lonely night.
“I don’t know, Matt. I just never met the right guy, I suppose. I haven’t dated much. In high school and college, guys weren’t interested in me because they knew I wouldn’t sleep with them. I wanted to save it for somebody special, you know.”
It was his turn to snort. “Bunch of losers. If I’d been there, I’d’ve seen you as a challenge I couldn’t resist. Still, I suppose I should thank them, because now you’re all mine!” He leered at me theatrically.
I laughed at his gloating and he started to chuckle.
“You’re very good at changing the subject when we talk, you know,” I pointed out. “I’m trying to find out more about you, and you always end up getting information out of me instead!”
“It’s a special talent. But go ahead, what else did you want to ask?”
“Where do you live, when you’re not renting the house next door to mine?”
Where will you be going in three months when you leave?
“I have a farm in Central Queensland.”
“You—a farm? I can’t picture that!”
“Well, I’m not a farmer, if that’s what you mean. It’s just a beautiful, sprawling house on two hundred hectares of virgin bush. I have some cattle and quite a few horses. I like to ride. But I’ve got a live-in estate manager, and his wife is my housekeeper.”
“That sounds amazing.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty awesome.”
We were silent for a while and I noticed that we were getting very close to the hotel. It was in one of the busiest sections of the riverfront, but Matt had booked a parking space in the basement—something I would never have thought of.
I felt nervous as I got out of the car. He shrugged into his jacket and smiled at me.
“Don’t look so scared,” he said softly and took my hand, linking his fingers through mine. He led me to the elevator.
We stepped out into the plush lobby of the most expensive hotel in Brisbane. It was busy but strangely quiet, the thick carpeting muting the sounds of the feet bustling by. I looked around curiously. Most of the roof was a giant skylight, fashioned into a glass-faceted, Renaissance-style dome. Directly under the dome was a large, round pond, and in the center of the water, on a raised marble pedestal, stood an actual-sized replica of Michelangelo’s David, fountains flowing from beneath his feet. A jungle of plants and Renaissance-inspired furniture surrounded the pool, and on the far side of the lobby, opposite the elevators, was a marble reception counter the size of a small escarpment.
“It’s awful, isn’t it?” whispered Matt close to my ear.
“Yes, but it’s impressive too. Awfully impressive!”
“Impressively awful!” We grinned at each other.
“We’re supposed to go to the Ballroom,” I told him.
“I know where that is, come this way.” He pulled me to the right.
“Have you been here before?”
“I was here today.” He flicked a glance at me. “I was making arrangements.”
“Oh.”
We came to a wide arch and passed through into a second spacious foyer with a grand door in the opposite wall. There was a discreet sign on an easel outside the door.
The Management of e-Vent Inc. welcomes you
Underneath was a table plan, showing the seating arrangements. There were twenty tables that each seated five couples, and I found my name on Table Seven. Taking a deep breath, I let Matt lead me through the door…and I learned what it meant to be the polar opposite of invisible.
I’d imagined this moment so often over the last five days—me, Plain Jane Hedley, walking into the room on the arm of a staggeringly handsome, scorchingly sexy man, my coworkers turning to stare—that now it was really happening, it felt unreal. Dreamlike. I felt slightly detached as, one by one, they turned to see who the newest arrivals were, and reacted to the sight of Matt, of us. On the women’s faces I saw a hundred variations of disbelief, envy and desire. Then I saw the same on the men’s faces and realized with shock that the envy was directed at Matt, and the desire at me.
We made our way to our table, halfway across the room, pausing to talk to people on the way. Men who hardly spoke to me at work grabbed my hand to stop me as I passed their tables, and so did women, plainly hoping to be introduced to Matt.
By the time we reached our table I was feeling quite shell-shocked. Matt seemed to realize this. He put his arm around my waist and pulled me against the side of his body. His solid warmth was comforting.
“I’ll get you a drink in a minute,” he whispered, giving me an amused grin. “Now introduce me to your friends.”
I was grateful to see that Lauren was at our table, with her husband, Jeff. I introduced them to Matt. Lauren was sitting next to Matt and she couldn’t stop staring at him. Kyle, the cute salesman, was seated next to me, with his latest girlfriend at his side. He jumped up and wrapped me in a big hug, surprising me.
If Kyle had hugged you a week ago you would have been pathetically thrilled.
Matt looked on with slightly hooded eyes, but was friendly when he shook Kyle’s hand.
Two more guys from the sales team filled out our table. I introduced Jason and he in turn introduced us to his wife, who I’d never met before. She was a vivacious and obviously pregnant blonde named Melanie. While I spoke a few words to her, the remaining couple leaned over to shake hands with Matt. It was Scott, e-Vent’s top salesman, and an older, sophisticated-looking brunette whose name was Vanessa. My smile was a bit strained when I greeted them, because I didn’t really like Scott. He was very arrogant. Fortunately he usually ignored me, but he was patronizing toward the other salespeople, which grated on my nerves. Even more grating was the way his date was checking out Matt, as if he were part of an all-you-can-eat buffet. Matt seemed oblivious.
Please! He’s probably used to women throwing themselves at him. It must happen all the time.
I finally spotted Stephen sitting at Table Three, which was diagonally opposite from ours. I pointed him out to Matt.
“Can we just go say hello to him before we settle down? I want to find out if he’s ready with his speech.”
“Sure, lead on.” Matt took off his jacket and hung it over the back of his chair and I left my purse at my place, and we went over to Stephen’s table. His back was to us so I tapped him on the shoulder.
“Hi, Stephen, I’m here. How’s your speech?”
“Hi there, Jane!” He stood up and turned to greet us. “Wow, that’s a great dress! Hi, Matt, nice to see you again. How’s it going?”
“Good, thanks.” The two men shook hands.
Stephen turned to me. “The speech is great, Jane. You did a first-class job, can’t thank you enough. Can I introduce you to James Jameson? James, this is my PA, Jane Hedley, the most efficient lady in Web Marketing.”
A big man was getting to his feet next to Stephen. He was darkly handsome. When he stood he towered over everybody, even Matt. He turned to us.
“Jane, glad to meet you. Stephen’s mentioned you a number of times.” Then his eyes flicked to Matt. “Well, damn me! Matt, you son of a bitch, what the hell are you doing here? And with the prettiest girl at the party, as usual.”
The two men clasped hands then pounded each other on the back. I exchanged glances with Stephen while they talked, and shrugged slightly. “Matt mentioned that they were in the army together,” I said softly. Stephen looked impressed.
“No, no,” Matt was saying, “I’m just playing tonight, not working. My work is all done.”
James frowned, craggy brows drawing low over dark eyes. He glanced at Stephen and me. “We’ll catch up later, mate,” he said to Matt. “Hope you have a good time, Jane.”
Matt led me back to our table and I slid into my seat.
“I’ll go get you that drink now, Jane. What would you like?”
“Champagne, please.”
He smiled at me and I melted a little. “Would an
ybody else like anything from the bar?” he asked our table then headed off with the orders.
Lauren took the opportunity to slip onto Matt’s chair next to me.
“God, Jane!” she exclaimed. “Where did you get that guy? He’s so hot!”
“He’s my neighbor.” I giggled at the expression on her face. “I was spying on him, and he caught me.”
“No way! Are you sleeping with him?”
“Yeah.”
Well, I would be—any time now.
A shiver of anticipation ran down my spine. I had no idea when Matt would make his move or what he planned to do. I was in a state of tense expectation and it was playing havoc with my nerves. Other than having me leave my panties at home, he’d done nothing in the least sexual. In fact he’d behaved like a perfect gentleman so far.
I watched him thread his way back to the table, holding two drinks in each big hand. He caught my gaze and the look that he sent me curled my toes and sent heat racing to my pussy.
He might be perfect, but he’s no gentleman! He’s thinking about fucking you right now.
I took my champagne from him with a slightly shaking hand. He put a scotch on the rocks in his place and passed another to Scott. A glass of white wine was handed to Vanessa. Lauren went back to her seat and Matt reclaimed his place next to me. Moments later the lights were dimmed, vibe-y music filled the room and a video was projected onto the huge screen behind the podium. Instead of a welcome speech, an energizing and amusing visual roundup of the year’s highlights was prepared. Clapping and hoots of approval sprang up around the room as we relived the challenges and triumphs of the last twelve months, eloquently retold in photos and video clips.
With an icy feeling of dismay I shrank back into my chair as I realized that everybody, from the cleaning staff to Elliot Green, Managing Director of the Brisbane branch, was featured in the video…except me. I didn’t appear in any of the shots, not even in the background. It was arranged in chronological order, the condensed timeline now rushing through the last few weeks before the party, and I knew with a sick certainty that I was going to be the only employee of e-Vent Brisbane that wasn’t in it.