by Monica Belle
She was smiling to herself as she pictured the scene, and now earnestly hoping that Mr Drake would turn up alone, and make a move on her. Another car was approaching, a black one, very similar to his. Her heart had begun to beat faster as she realised it was his and she quickly composed herself, pretending she hadn’t noticed him until he was actually walking towards her, his hand extended. There was no sign of Miss Manston-Jones.
‘Another early bird, I see.’
Laura stood up, sure that he would realise the state she was in as she took his hand and responded.
‘Mr Drake. Good morning.’
‘Chris, please. Is everybody at EAS so formal?’
‘Mr Henderson feels that I should address senior people respectfully.’
He chuckled.
‘My PA’s the same, maybe we should swap? Shall we go inside? It’s a bit windy out here.’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘What are you having.’
The words ‘rough sex’ rose unbidden to Laura’s throat and she ended up coughing in her effort not to actually say them. He made her choice for her.
‘G and T. Have you been here before?’
‘No.’
‘It’s very good. Miles from anywhere of course.’
Laura smiled and nodded, wondering if any of his previous visits had been liaisons such as the one she’d just witnessed. He set up a tab and ordered the drinks, refusing to allow her to put anything on her own expenses. Taking a menu and the wine list, he led her to a table by the window. Laura sat down, completely abandoned to his easy assumption of control. He was absorbed in the menu and she took a moment to watch him, admiring the lean contours of his shoulders and chest, but particularly his face. There was something patrician about him, yet with a boyish cast, so that it was easy to imagine him not as a businessman, but perhaps as a wealthy young idler from between the wars, or a Spitfire pilot. Certainly it was easy to imagine him as the hero in a novel, and one with a dark side, one who would enjoy giving a girl a bit of necessary discipline across his knee.
‘Do you like spatchcock?’
‘I beg your pardon?’
‘Spatchcock. You know, it’s a chicken dish.’
‘Oh … yes, of course. Yes, very much.’
‘Well I’m going to have it.’
‘So will I.’
‘And a bottle of Chablis, I think, or would you prefer Sancerre?’
‘Um … whichever you think best … no, let’s have the Chablis.’
Laura had forced herself to make a decision, sure that she was making an exhibition of herself. He took no notice, but went to the bar and quickly gave their order, speaking the moment he returned.
‘To business. I’ll be straightforward with you here. I’ve managed to persuade my bosses to upgrade our 36,000 volt system at the same time as the general one, hopefully saving money in the long run. This is my idea, and a lot rests on my being able to justify it, so I need a good price. Presumably old Henderson has given you some leeway?’
‘Some, yes.’
‘Good. Then name your bottom line to save a lot of tedious argument, I’ll accept, sign up to the deal and we can enjoy our lunch, how’s that?’
Laura hid a smile, having seen enough clients try to steam-roller Mr Henderson over the years to recognise the technique. Hoping that Mr Drake was so sure of himself that he’d assume she’d accept his offer without quibbling, she named a price ten per cent higher than the one Mr Henderson had suggested. Mr Drake gave her a sharp look.
‘Merlin Gerin can do better.’
‘Then you’d have two companies trying to install switchgear at the same time. Please Mr Drake, if I don’t manage to reach an agreement I’ll be in trouble.’
He laughed.
‘OK, I’ll take it, if only for that naughty schoolgirl impression.’
Laura found herself blushing, as if he’d read her mind, and quickly busied herself with the paperwork. Having reached a decision he signed up without further discussion, and Laura was soon left with a satisfying sense of a job well done, while it was clear he was keen to flirt, and perhaps more. He spoke easily, asking questions and making her laugh with his wry, slightly self-effacing style. By the time they’d finished lunch what little resistance she’d had left was gone. He made it easy to melt, and when the couple she had seen earlier came back she didn’t hesitate before leaning across the table.
‘Do you see the man in the green tie and the blonde woman?’
‘Yes.’
‘They arrived shortly before you did, in different cars, then went off together in his. That was nearly an hour ago.’
He chuckled.
‘The Horseshoes is well known as a rendezvous. There’s a piece of forestry land a couple of miles away, which is, shall we say, equally well known. I suspect that’s where they’ve been.’
‘I’m sure it is.’
Laura hesitated, spinning the stem of her empty glass between finger and thumb as she wondered if she dared suggest a visit. He smiled, once again seeming to read her thoughts, extending one hand to gently stroke her fingers as he spoke.
‘Would you like to?’
Laura nodded, a sudden, urgent motion, making no effort to conceal her passion. His smile grew a trifle broader and he squeezed her hand, then rose to pay the bill. Alone for a moment, she was sure that everybody else in the pub knew exactly what was going on, despite nobody paying any obvious attention at all. Not that she really cared. She was ready, and it had been too long.
He came back and took her by the hand, Laura walking as if she was in a dream as she allowed herself to be led to his car. It was new, the inside still rich with the smell of leather, the air warm and still. She relaxed, feeling safe and confident now that she was sure she had his attention, also naughty. Turning to him with a smile as they set off, she began to undo the buttons of her blouse, making it very clear that she was fully available and needed no further cajoling. His response was a knowing, amused chuckle.
The plantation was just minutes away, a stand of mature poplars and pines cut through by broad gravel roads, arrow straight but with turning places every so often that might have been designed for lovers in cars. He chose one well in from the road, but instead of taking Laura into his arms as she had been hoping, he climbed out, beckoning her to follow. She obeyed, not wanting to spoil the experience, but gave a squeak of alarm as he immediately pressed her against the side of the car, his hands circling her waist beneath her open blouse.
‘Won’t somebody see?’
‘Maybe, another couple.’
He’d undone her bra as he spoke and the next instant her breasts were bare to the cool forest air. She tried to speak, not at all sure if she wanted to put on a show for other people, but he had taken one nipple between his lips and her voice came as a gasp. He was going to have her, just the way he wanted, and in the open, something so in tune with her fantasies she had quickly abandoned all thought of resistance.
‘OK, do it … do as you like.’
‘I intend to.’
He’d spoken as his mouth left her chest, but he stayed down, adjusting her clothes and kissing her flesh as it came bare, confident in his right to do as he pleased. Laura shut her eyes, holding him gently as she was exposed, her blouse opened wide to leave her bare breasts thrust high, her skirt rolled up to show her stockings, her suspenders straps, her knickers. A single, firm kiss was planted on the mound of her sex and he spoke again.
‘Stockings and suspenders, I see. I do like an old-fashioned girl.’
Laura tried to answer, but again her words came out as a gasp. He’d tugged her knickers down, in one sudden motion, exposing her to his mouth. Her legs began to shake as she was licked, her breathing growing deeper and harder by the moment, until she was sure she was going to come.
‘Don’t stop, please.’
He pulled away.
‘Greedy girl, Laura.’
The tone of gentle admonishment in his voice was exactly wh
at she needed as he set to work again. A few more words with that same easy authority would have been perfect, but her imagination had no trouble in keeping up. He was doing wonderful things with his tongue as she imagined how it could have been, for him to call her a greedy girl, just as he had done, but to refuse her request, then to tell her what happened to greedy girls, how greedy girls needed their bottoms smacked before being made to suck cock.
She cried out when she started to come, her fingers locked in his hair as her orgasm swept through her, only for him to pull sharply back a moment later. For one awful moment she thought they’d been caught, only to find herself gripped hard in his arms, twisted around, bundled over the bonnet of the car, her knickers jerked low and his cock eased into her from behind. The next instant he was thrusting himself into her with all his force, to leave her panting and clutching at the paintwork in exactly the sort of helpless ecstasy she had always craved.
6
LAURA WAS SINGING as she drove back towards Cambridge. The encounter had been everything she could have hoped for and, unlike so many men, Chris Drake had known how to treat her afterwards, with a cuddle and assurances that there would be a next time. Despite his enthusiasm she’d made a conscious effort not to push too hard and risk scaring him away. He had been the one to suggest meeting up on Sunday, and had been keen to come to King’s Lynn.
She already felt that she was more than a little in love with him, and everything else now seemed completely trivial, including the mysterious messages. When she got back she was obliged to clear her agreement with Mr Henderson and log the new order in, along with the necessary changes to the original one. That proved more complicated than she’d anticipated, and by the time she got back from production it was after four o’clock. All the while she’d been thinking of Chris and what they’d done together, so she was on automatic as she logged on and brought her email messages up, only to come suddenly alert as she saw the now familiar address.
Nothing had been said, but now that she’d got to know Chris she was certain he could not be the Controller, despite his enjoyment of the way she’d been dressed. He was forthright, assertive, but too passionate. The Controller’s calm, reserved authority was very different, and while it might have been equally appealing, it was now no more than a distraction, and potentially an annoying one.
The message was short, just two words. GOOD GIRL. Laura paused as she moved to delete the message, biting her lip. Whoever it was, her best bet might now be to let him down gently, telling him she was with somebody else and thus hopefully avoiding any repercussions. Her reply needed to be short and to the point, avoiding any possibility of misinterpretation or keeping his hopes alive, yet polite. Hopefully he was as controlled as he seemed and would accept her verdict.
She typed her message in reply – I AM SORRY, BUT I HAVE A PARTNER – and was about to click on the Send button when she realised that there was something peculiar about his message. She’d only been a good girl to one man, and that was Chris Drake. Admittedly she’d put her suspenders on before coming into the factory, but the only person who could possibly have known was Mr Henderson, and he was his normal, businesslike self. She tried to tell herself it no longer mattered, but her curiosity was too strong. Could it have been somebody in the car pool, even one of the staff at Pretty Things? Both suggestions were ridiculous. It had to be Mr Henderson.
Laura turned her chair to him, determined to have it out once and for all, but found herself unable to speak. His calm, serious face made the idea of effectively accusing him of making improper advances an impossibility, besides which he would undoubtedly deny it and she would just end up feeling silly. He had noticed her attention and looked up.
‘If you have nothing particular to do, Laura, you can go home. An early start to the weekend is the least you deserve.’
‘Thank you, Mr Henderson.’
She deleted the message she had been about to send, now sure that if she left the mystery unsolved it would nag at her mind for months, if not years.
Mr Henderson had only given her an extra half-hour or so, but she put it to good use, calling in at Pretty Things again, but this time to buy a set of black silk camiknickers and matching bra, a treat both for herself and for Chris, who had made it very clear that he preferred her clothing disarranged rather than right off. He’d also made it clear that he liked the idea of being seen, which she found both frightening and exciting. Not that anybody had caught them, but they’d been right out in the open and another couple might easily have driven past, or worse, a logging crew, which really would have been embarrassing, too much so for reality, if not fantasy.
She buried herself in her book on the way home, once more enjoying the story now that she was sure none of her fellow commuters were spying on her. There was even another spanking scene, this time with a buxom Turkish girl turned over the knee of Mustapha bin Yunus, the villainous white slaver who had agreed to buy Evangeline from Lord Jasper. It was quite detailed, describing the unfortunate girl’s bottom as a magnificent amber peach, wriggling in her struggles of desperation, a phrase that made Laura chuckle, then smile. An idea had occurred to her.
Saturday was spent tidying her flat, messing it up again in case he thought she was too fussy, and an attempt at some impromptu Feng Shui designed to give the impression of a casual, Bohemian lifestyle she felt might seem appropriate for the sort of girl who liked to be thrown over the bonnet of a car and rogered from behind or, better still, spanked.
It was an alarming prospect, for several reasons. The worst case scenario would be if, when she had finally managed to get the hint across, he didn’t dish out a spanking but a lecture on human dignity and inappropriate sexual behaviour. That didn’t seem very likely, judging by the way he’d behaved on the plantation, which meant she might succeed and end up having to cope with the pain and indignity that turned her on so strongly in her fantasies but might be very different in real life.
By the Sunday morning she was finding excuses not to go through with her plan, even to cancel their date, while she was convinced he’d be put off by her flat, either because it was too neat and tidy or too messy. Smudge was also a problem, apt to want attention at inappropriate moments and too big to be easily ignored. In the end she put him out into the tiny yard behind the house, assuaging her guilt by promising him the bone from the rib of beef she’d bought at the farmer’s market. That left the flat dog free, but either a mess or not a mess, depending on his perspective.
As it was, he took no notice whatsoever, arriving half-an-hour earlier than he’d said he would, plonking himself down on her sofa and asking if she had any wine in the fridge. Laura obliged, selecting one of the four bottles she’d put in just in case – along with three brands of beer, a local organic cider and various mixers – and serving it to him before pouring her own glass. He took a couple of reflective sips and then began to talk, as casually as if he’d known her for years, with no hint of the tension she’d been suffering from since the moment they parted.
Gradually Laura relaxed, grateful for his casual manner. To let him take her to bed would be easy, effortless in fact. She considered postponing her attempt to get something more, but the idea brought such a sharp pang of disappointment that she abandoned it immediately.
Lunch was carefully planned, set early to ensure there’d be plenty of time to digest before an afternoon hopefully spent half naked in the bedroom with a red bottom, but his early arrival meant that she had to put the joint in the oven before they’d finished their first glass of wine. As she busied herself rolling potatoes in the minimum possible quantity of fat his voice carried through from the living room.
‘What are we having?’
‘Roast beef.’
‘Delicious. Will you be in and out of the kitchen all the time, or can you spare a little for me?’
It seemed a peculiar question, but Laura answered anyway.
‘Just let me get the meat in.’
‘That can be arranged.’<
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She found herself blushing as she realised what she’d said and didn’t reply but quickly finished her task before going back into the living room. He sat as before, sprawled comfortably on the sofa with his long limbs spread out, except that he now had his jeans open and his cock and balls bulging from the fly. Laura stopped, at once thrilled and disgusted, amazed that he could be so rude but unable to deny her instinctive reaction. It was also just the sort of thing Tommy Fuller would have done to her, expecting sex without the slightest attempt at seduction first, pulling his cock out and demanding it attended to in a way that no weaker man would have dared.
Chris Drake was the same, grinning as he waited, completely sure of himself and rightly so. Laura swallowed, managed a weak nod and got down on her knees, still in her apron as she crawled across to him on all fours. He gave a knowing chuckle and slid himself a little further down the sofa, opening his long thighs to make himself available to her mouth. She reached him, her excitement rising fast as she took in the faint but heady scent of cock mingled with some masculine body product. He looked at her, amused, but also appreciative as he spoke.
‘I’d like your breasts bare.’
‘Of course.’
Laura’s hands went behind her back to the bow of her apron, but he wagged a finger at her.
