by M T Stone
After a few seconds, she turns and pushes my back against the wall. “It’s my turn”, she says, dropping to her knees and taking my cock in her hand beneath the warm stream of the second shower head. “There are things that I’ve wanted to do to you too.”
My cock immediately becomes more rigid at the thought of what she might be thinking. She takes my swelling head into her mouth and begins stroking the underside of my balls with her fingers. After a few tongue strokes and sucking on the first few inches, her eyes turn up toward mine. By her expression, it seems that she is quickly realizing the magnitude of the feat that she has embarked upon. “Open wide and I’ll help you out,” I tease, placing my hand on the back of her head.
Her eyes close and in one smooth movement, she tightens the grip on my balls and swallows my entire length. She holds it there momentarily, noises emanating from her as she adapts to having me so deep in her throat. She then begins to move about halfway back before once again thrusting her lips to my groin. “Wow, that’s amazing,” I moan as she simultaneously manipulates my balls with a skilled hand. She has obviously learned to control her gag reflex. Oh, God . . . that feels so good, she’s practically making my toes curl. She pulls back and begins stoking me with her free hand while teasing my throbbing head with her tongue. Her other hand continues to massage my balls, proving that her incredible multitasking skills aren’t limited to an office environment. I’ve never had a blow job even come close to this. Once again, I find myself wondering just how long I’ll be able to maintain this level of intensity. I’m normally the one who’s in control, but it appears she’s attempting to turn the tables on me. It’s time for me to regain control.
“That’s absolutely amazing, but I’ve always wanted to fuck you in this shower,” I say, reaching down and lifting her back to her feet. “I don’t think I could last much longer.”
“I wanted to feel your hot load splashing against the back of my throat,” she says with a hint of disappointment.
“I promise, I will make that happen for you,” I say with a flicker of my eyebrows. “Right now, though, I want your hands up against the wall and I want to look down at that beautiful ass of yours while I fuck you from behind.”
“Really? You’re actually turned on by this big, white ass?” she asks, rolling her eyes in disbelief. “It’s not that skinny little teenage bikini ass that you remember so fondly. Maybe you could dim the lights a little more.”
“You were beautiful back then, but I honestly think you are even more beautiful now.” I snuggle up behind her, taking her in my arms and cupping her full breasts. “Real men appreciate curves,” I assure her while squeezing her breasts and nuzzling my cock between her ass cheeks. “I’ve never been more turned on in my life.”
“I appreciate you saying that, but I’m not sure that it could be true,” she retorts, glancing back with unbelieving eyes. “You’ve been with more than your share of beautiful women.”
“But you are the only one I’ve ever loved,” I whisper, pushing inside her once again. Her only comments now are coming in the form of moans. I squeeze her nipples between my fingers and begin to slowly fuck her in a way that I had always dreamed about. I kiss the back of her neck, tasting the salty water mixed with her natural fragrance. She moans softly with each stroke as I continue to tease her nipples and give her everything I have to offer.
I stand up, allowing the warm water to cascade across her upper back. I grip her hips firmly and increase the intensity of my long, full strokes. Her legs immediately begin to tremble and her arms buckle just a bit. I compensate by lifting her hips just slightly, stabilizing her wobbly knees. I feel another surge of hormones as I gaze down upon the curve of her back and the way it sweeps so smoothly into her beautiful, shapely ass. I’m honestly amazed that she thinks there is anything wrong with it. Grown women are supposed to have curves, and hers are stunning. The steam, the vision of her beauty, and the way my cock feels inside her tight pussy combine to send me into a state of utter euphoria. This is even better than anything I ever could have imagined. This is the definition of bliss.
Kayla
Wave after wave of orgasmic pleasure sweeps over me. Each time, I feel as if my knees are going to buckle beneath me, but I’m caught up in Blake’s firm grip. There’s no escape from the intense pleasure that he continues to bestow upon me. Each time I feel like he may be getting close to a climax, he changes positions just slightly and takes me through another series of toe-curling contractions. My bottom has never been so excited, so sensitive, so responsive to the touch. I practically shudder each time his balls brush against my clit. It’s crazy and incredible at the same time.
“Oh, God, Blake,” I gasp, having nothing to say beyond those three words. I want him to know what I’m feeling inside, but there’s no way to describe it. “That feels amazing,” I add, hoping he will keep me suspended in this incredibly erotic state for a few minutes longer. My focus moves from my trembling knees down to my oversized feet. I try to force my heels down to keep my knees from buckling, something I do all the time in yoga class. I think Blake is right. This is one hell of a core workout. I push against the wall and arch my back, instantly feeling the water run down the center of my back and cascade over my ass. That’s just one more sensation that adds even more pleasure, as if this wasn’t already an overload of stimulation.
“I love this,” Blake grunts as I feel his grip tighten on my hips, sending another wave of pleasure through me. There’s something about being held in this position, unable to get away or change position when things get a little too intense. My knees begin to buckle again and my hands slip further down the wall. I reach for the stability of the shower bar, grasping onto it with both hands while Blake gives me the final full thrusts that lead to a climax of his own. He pushes all the way into me, and I can feel the pulse of his head deep inside me. My legs shake violently as the sensation causes me to have a final orgasm. This has to be some type of orgasm record. I can’t even count the number of times I’ve gone over the edge in the past hour and a half. Blake’s arms encircle me and he brings me back to an upright position, tightly nestled against him. “You’re amazing,” he whispers against my wet cheek. “Absolutely amazing.”
A smile crosses my lips as his words register. He is the one who is amazing. I’ve always known that, but some part of me has always felt that he would never be satisfied with me. With women throwing themselves at him on a regular basis, how would I ever be able to keep him satisfied? My heart pinches at the thought of not having him in my life. It was always safer to keep him in the friend zone or in an employer-employee relationship. Tonight, though, we have blown those paradigms out of the water. There is no going back, and even though the sex has been incredible, the thought of it leaves me feeling vulnerable.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, turning me toward him. “Are you getting cold or something?” We both look down at the series of goosebumps that have popped up on my arms and legs.
“No, I’m not cold. Maybe overwhelmed and awestruck, and I think my body might be going into some state of sexual shock,” I reply with a giggle. The look of concern on his face is definitely reassuring. He has always treated me right, has been a wonderful friend, and has always been there when I needed him. Maybe all of this is completely real and I’ll never have to compete with anyone else. I can’t imagine how great it would be to marry my lifelong best friend.
The warm fuzzies return with that thought and my lips instinctively seek out his. “I can’t believe this is all happening,” I whisper, taking his lips with mine and slipping my tongue between them in search of his. Standing here in all of my steamy, naked glory, half buzzed from the champagne and the overabundance of endorphins, I can’t help but feel that no matter how this all plays out, it is all worth it. I have always played it safe, never tested my limits, and always guarded my feelings, and where has it gotten me? Single at thirty-six, exercising twice a day in an attempt to defy gravity, and working for the man of my
dreams instead of sleeping with him. This was definitely long overdue.
After rinsing the sin off our bodies, he wraps me in a luxurious, oversized white bath towel. He wraps his arms around me and towels me off in the most sensual way possible. “I’m starving. I have half of a sausage and bacon pizza from John’s that we can warm up,” he says, looking for approval.
“This day just keeps getting better and better. You can see for yourself how much I love John’s pizza.” I slap the side of my thigh, giving him a look of resignation.
“Wow, pizza really looks great on you. I’ll go fire up the oven.” He gives me another kiss before holding out a robe for me. “I really love that we are the only ones here. I don’t think Mom and Dad have ever spent a single night out here without the staff. They are way too old-school.”
“Yeah, I could eat pizza, fish, and veggies for a week if it meant we had this place all to ourselves,” I tell him, loving the fact that we can walk around half-naked and not worry about any prying eyes. He slicks back his jet-black hair and leaves his robe loosely tied, allowing me to admire his manly chest and even catch an occasional glimpse of that incredible package of his. I pull up a seat next to the counter and watch him move about the kitchen. I think back to the days when we used to sit at this counter while the staff made us afternoon snacks to keep us happy until dinner time. It’s been a long time since I worked off a meal so quickly. The funniest part is that I’m literally getting hot again just sitting here watching him. I realize that I’m a little pent-up, but this is almost embarrassing.
“It should be perfect in ten minutes,” he says, grabbing a remote off the counter and pressing a couple of buttons. Within seconds, a melody begins to play that I haven’t heard in years. Stay away from my window, stay away from my back door too . . . the immortal words of Rod Stewart fill the room. Tonight’s the night . . . everything’s going to be alright . . . Blake sweeps me into his arms and we glide smoothly around the kitchen floor. I’ve never seen more light in his gorgeous blue eyes. He appears to be just as happy as I’m feeling.
Three songs into our dance, the timer goes off, so we glide over to the oven. “Mmm, it smells great.” I reach down and pull the oven door partway open to check the progress.
“Thank you for the dance, mademoiselle,” he says, in reference to the fact that I am one-quarter French. My grandfather on Dad’s side was a dashing French businessman. Whenever I think of him, I think of the black suits and starched white cotton shirts. For him, casual attire was loosening the tie and taking off the jacket. The way Blake dresses for work reminds me of him, everything polished to perfection and not a hair out of place. He swings me around one last time and caps it off with a kiss. “You take out the pizza, and I’ll grab a couple of Harps,” he says, referring to my favorite beer.
As we sit in front of the fire in our robes, eating pizza and drinking beer, it occurs to me how nice it is to be with someone who knows me. Someone who can not only give me the best orgasms of my life, but who knows that I love sausage and bacon pizza and Harp lager. “You always liked pepperoni better,” I say as the thought pops into my head.
“Yeah, that’s all I wanted growing up,” he says reflectively. “But ever since we stopped in at John’s for lunch a few years ago, you got me hooked on bacon and sausage. I love the fennel in the sausage and the salty richness of the bacon. It’s perfect together.” He takes a sip of his beer and holds it out to tap mine. “Thanks for broadening my horizons.”
After a couple of slices, I settle back into his arms. The music is still playing in the background, and I am perfectly content to lie here watching the flicker of the fire. “It’s not nice to stare at my freakishly large feet,” I tell him after observing his obvious obsession with them.
“I love your feet. I think they’re sexy as hell, especially with that dark ruby nail polish,” he says, giving me a nudge. “But what I was actually looking at was that ankle bracelet. Those things always gave me a hard-on when you wore them. It’s the strangest thing.”
“I knew that. Why do you think I wore it?” I ask with a giggle. “I’m sorry for being such a tease, but I’m glad it still worked. I hadn’t worn one in years.”
“So, was all of this planned out?” he replies with an unsettled look crossing his face.
“Are you kidding? This has been way beyond anything I ever could’ve possibly planned. But I will admit that I have been wanting to spend a little time alone with you.” I smile, kissing him lightly on the lips. “Deep down, I’ve been aching to know whether you were still interested in me. I couldn’t really see why you would be after all these years.”
“For a smart, talented woman, you can certainly be foolish sometimes,” he says, looking directly into my eyes. “I have loved you since I met you, and that will never change. You are the reason I’ve never wanted to get married or even have a serious relationship. I’ve always wanted you.” I sit there stunned for a moment, simply savoring his words. I really have been foolish. Thank God he didn’t meet someone else while I was sitting around being stupid. It would’ve been devastating to see him marry someone else. “Let’s go get more comfortable,” he says, rising and offering me a hand. “There’s a fireplace in the bedroom.”
Blake
Settling into bed, Kayla seems surprised to find me hard once again. The sight of her robe slipping off her shoulders and hitting the floor was enough to rally the troops once again. Besides, after beer and pizza, I have more than enough fuel to go for another round. I love how it feels as she slips under the covers and into my arms. Her silky-smooth skin feels like satin to the touch. My hands immediately begin exploring her body, and before long, one thing leads to another. We’re acting like two sex-crazed teens.
Chapter 8
Blake
I awake to several different sounds and buzzes coming from my phone. I squint, looking at the clock on the wall. It’s five before eight on a Tuesday morning, so I can predict what is going on without even looking. The call was from Dad, still intent on giving me an earful of something. I wonder when the last time was that he got laid, much less three times in one night. That’s what he really needs. That’s what every guy needs.
The continuous stream of buzzes indicates that emails are pouring in. I’m going to have to check them within the hour just to make sure Davis has what he needs prior to the hearing at ten. I’ll have to touch base with Bill sometime too regarding the meeting with Simpson Industries this afternoon. Even though Kayla has done a good job of passing off my tasks for the day, I still feel like I’m the one who is ultimately responsible. If anything goes wrong, Dad will blame me, not them. I’ll have to touch base with the old man at noon.
I turn my focus to Kayla, who is still sound asleep on my arm. I give her a small kiss on the forehead, still amazed by the incredible evening we shared together. I’ve had nights filled with wild fun, incredible sex, and gorgeous women, but something was always missing. Passion. The feelings that well up in my chest when I’m making love to Kayla are so intense that it feels like something is going to explode. I have loved her for as long as I can remember, and now everything seems to finally be coming together. We are both in a place in our lives where we are ready to settle down and build a life together. In some ways, I wish we could’ve gotten to this point ten years ago, but it’s better late than never. I’m sure I’ll appreciate her much more now than I would have if everything had fallen into place when we were young. At least that’s what I’m going to tell myself.
My phone continues to buzz and vibrate on the dresser and it’s driving me nuts. I slip my arm out from under Kayla and she barely stirs. I slip from the bed, grabbing the robe and my phone before leaving her to sleep. I’m not sure what time we finally went to sleep, but it had to have been well after two. I’m used to surviving on five or six hours of sleep, but I know she likes to get at least eight, so I’ll go get my work done and then I’ll make her some breakfast. It occurs to me that there isn’t much for groceries ou
t here. I guess I’ll order breakfast. I text Jay over at Blade to see if he will make a breakfast run to Buvette for me. He’s the one who brought me out yesterday, and he said to let him know if I need anything. Well, I need breakfast.
Jay: Sure. You need some overpriced French pastries delivered via private helicopter?
Me: Pretty much. No rush. You have until ten. A half-dozen croissants with butter and jam, one Croque Madame, and one Frits A I'americaine. And some orange juice.
Jay: Need me to swing by Starbucks too?
Me: No. I think we’re good.
Jay: Okay, your $600 breakfast will be there shortly. I’ll be expecting a 20% tip. : )
I chuckle as I think about whether to tip him on the whole bill or just the breakfast items. Technically, I think it would only be on breakfast, so twenty bucks should cover it. That’s what he deserves for being a smart ass.
Clicking to my email, it looks like the normal Tuesday morning flow. Nothing is marked urgent, so after a quick scan, I scroll back through my text messages. As expected, both Davis and Bill have sent me lists of things they need prior to the hearing and meetings.
Me: The code to the filing cabinet next to Kayla’s desk is 8081. You will find a file in there for the hearing this morning and one for the meeting with Simpson. Everything you need is in there.
Nineteen eighty is the year Kayla was born and I was born in eighty-one, so I tend to use it whenever I need a four-digit code. It seemed smarter than just using mine twice, and it’s not like anyone is going to break into my assistant’s filing cabinet. Then it hits me. Who is going to be my assistant? I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who is more efficient and organized than Kayla. Obviously, I would much rather have a relationship with her than work with her, but she will really be missed around the office. I scan my memory banks for anyone who I could get on short notice. October is going to be a killer month the way it is. I don’t see any way I’ll be able to do it without her. We are going to have to keep this thing under wraps for a while. I grab her resignation letter and the pen that still lies on the counter. Resignation not accepted, I write along the bottom of the page.
