“Harder,” I insisted over and over until he was administering mighty good stingers. He had grown harder with the spanks and when he entered me again I was ready to burst. I came over and over, but he held back. He removed the plug and I felt empty. I moved away from his penis.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, worry etched on his face.
“Nothing, nothing at all,” I smiled. “You said you wanted to own all of me. I’m ready.”
“Shit,” he groaned. “Are you sure?”
I guided his penis towards my bottom. I had been stretched and lubricated from the plug, but he put extra lube on just to make sure he didn’t hurt. Slowly and gently he probed, little by little, edging his way in. At first it hurt a little, but I didn’t want to give up yet. I tried to relax as I had learned to with the plug. It got easier and I could feel him go deeper. I felt myself breathe again. I hadn’t been aware that I had stopped. To my amazement it felt good. He pulled back and pushed in slowly, then a bit faster. Gradually he increased the tempo and my body moved in unison. It didn’t last long, probably no more than three or four minutes, but long enough for me to give way to my body’s pleasure and explode in yet another cum. Michael couldn’t hold back any longer; the excitement and the tightness were too much and he thrust one last long hard shudder, depositing his cum in my anus with a growl.
“Fuck, that was something else; you’re a sexy, slutty lady! Are you ok?”
“Mmmhmm, I’m fine,” I grinned. Another cherry and all of my fears of it had been unfounded. Not something I would want to do every time, but I had to admit it was pretty damn good. I showered hurriedly and went to meet Claire without breakfast. I’d just have to get something along the way. I brought the dress to accessorise.
Chapter Nineteen
The day of the party dawned bright and frosty. The eighth of December. I woke early and had time for some few moments of reflection before I had to climb out of bed. I thought about home. In Ireland that date was a holy day, and traditionally the schools shut and the world and his mother went to Dublin shopping. I wondered if my family would make the trip. If I had time later, I’d try to give them a call before the party.
Michael was as nervous as a kitten; he just couldn’t settle to anything. It was just as well the sale was on that morning—he would have to be on the shop floor and he wouldn’t have time to dwell. We got to the store in good time, but already the queues were stretching down the street. One of the security guards told us they had started at nine o’clock the previous evening and people camped out with flasks of tea and coffee. Eventually some wise person had set up a stall and they had made a killing. Stock was flying out the door at an alarming rate. I hated to think what losses the store was going to make on the day, but thank goodness it wasn’t my problem. I thought James was off his trolley.
At one p.m. the doors shut for the weekend and the staff had the afternoon to prepare themselves and the contractors to prepare the store for the gala party. Invited guests were to be greeted with champagne and to include employees past and present, regular customers, important suppliers, neighbouring businesses, and competitors. The guest list was well in excess of five hundred people last I heard and increasing each day. I stopped asking as the sheer enormity of it was making me tremble. One hour before the doors opened to the general invitees at eight p.m., there was a small staff reception where Michael was to be unveiled as the new MD, followed by a press release to the media. Michael and I had to be there by half past six along with James and Catherine.
My hair appointment was for half past three followed by make-up at half past four. This would have me back at the apartment for quarter past five. The make-up artist didn’t get to me until a quarter to five and I was getting frantic. For once I remembered to call Michael.
“Relax,” he told me, “it only takes a couple of minutes to get to the store from here and all you’ll have left to do is put on your dress and shoes. You’ve lots of time. But Siobhan, well done for thinking of phoning,” he said silkily, stirring my nether regions.
As he predicted, I was back at the apartment by five forty-five and I unwound a little. Michael was just about to get into his tux. I kissed him as I dashed through the bedroom door.
“Are you nervous?”
“Yeah, a bit,” he admitted.
“You’ll be great,” I encouraged.
He hadn’t let me hear his speech, but he said he was keeping it simple, less than two minutes. I took some new lingerie out of the bag and Michael’s eyes were popping as I put on the corset and thong. For mischief’s sake and to ease his nerves, I slowly and tantalisingly rolled the silk stockings on, snapping them to straps on the bustier. He stopped dressing and gently leaned me over on the bed.
“No, Michael, we don’t have time and I’ll end up looking dishevelled,” I objected.
He put his finger to my lips to silence me and pulled my thong to one side. He circled my clit with his finger, waiting for the familiar wetness to flood my sex. He penetrated and thrust six times. Then he came out, leaving a yearning deep within me.
“That’s a promise for later,” he said and he placed a sexy slap on each buttock.
“Michael, you bastard,” I laughed lustfully.
“Language, dear,” he warned and I felt a tightness in my feminine epicentre. He hadn’t spanked me properly since last weekend and I was worried he wouldn’t do it anymore. Maybe my worry was unnecessary.
I fixed my underwear and put on my fuck-me red shoes and strutted to the wardrobe to get my dress, provocatively wriggling my hips. His eyes followed every step, his erection straining at his underwear. When I donned the dress, Michael looked appreciatively at me.
“You’re an incredibly beautiful woman and I am so proud to have you accompany me this evening. You make everything sparkle.”
I could feel tears gather in my eyes. “Thank you, Michael.”
Michael finished dressing now that I was no longer distracting him with my underwear. The word dashing was the one that came to mind when I saw him in his tux.
“You’re a fine, handsome, sexy man yourself,” I murmured. “Good luck tonight, darling.”
We left the bedroom and were heading out the door when Michael suddenly stopped.
“Oh, I nearly forgot.” He picked up a box and handed it to me. I opened it to find an antique ruby and diamond necklace, bracelet, and earrings to match my dress. I felt tears sting my eyes again.
“Oh, God, Michael that’s the second time you have nearly made me cry tonight. What about my make-up? They’re so beautiful, you spoil me too much. Thank you!”
“And thank you for being by my side tonight; it’s better than any jewel. You have no idea how much it means to me. I need you tonight,” he murmured, almost setting me off again.
We left the apartment at quarter past six and took the short walk up to the store. Michael was jittery and yet he had to keep his stride short as I had such high heels. As we approached the steps, I took his hand and squeezed it. A footman opened the door and a waitress handed us a glass of champagne. James and Catherine arrived less than two minutes later.
“Oh, good, you’re in good time,” James said, relieved, as he accepted a glass.
“You look really beautiful, my dear, simple and elegant,” he told me.
I kissed Catherine and admired her dress. We giggled as we compared notes on the nerves of the respective men. Catherine had the advantage over me in that the staff already knew of her relationship with James and she empathised with me over my anxiety. She spoke reassuringly.
“It’ll be fine, Siobhan; you’ll be a one-minute wonder. They’ll all be much more worried about the change of management.”
“You’re so right; it’s insignificant in the larger scheme of things. Thanks, Catherine, I needed to hear that.” I hugged her gratefully.
I was surprised to hear the sound of the door opening again, as the staff weren’t to arrive until seven and it was still only half past six. An elegant blonde
in her late fifties entered, accompanied by a very handsome white-haired suntanned man. Michael ran over and kissed the lady and hugged the man. I hadn’t even time to ask Catherine who they were before Michael was leading them in my direction.
“Siobhan, this is my mother and stepfather, Lydia and Gaston,” he said proudly.
I was surprised to be gathered into a warm embrace by Michael’s mother.
“I’m so glad to meet you at last, Siobhan. James speaks very highly of you.”
Gaston kissed my hand and exclaimed, “Charmant.”
So that’s where Michael learned it from, I thought, remembering that first day with a smile. Isn’t it funny how the same action can be received in such a different manner by the same person? When Michael had kissed my hand, I took it to be conceited arrogance, yet with Gaston, I assumed it was chivalry. I noticed that Lydia and Catherine kissed quite affectionately and Gaston and James seemed equally comfortable with each other. They chatted easily for a while, discussing the handling of the press release. Lydia had already passed her shares to Michael, but she was still officially director. She was intending to resign altogether; she’d only been keeping the seat warm for her son. James was going to retain his chief executive role, but Michael was to be announced as managing director.
James and Michael had agreed it would be Michael who explained his relationship with James to the staff, as he was the one who had requested secrecy and he felt he should take responsibility for it. As they were discussing tactics and speeches, the door opened again and much to my delight, in walked Myra and her husband.
“James asked me to come early; he thought you could use a friendly face among this melee,” she whispered, kissing me.
“How considerate of him! I’m so glad to see you,” I answered gratefully. Myra greeted the others before introducing her husband, Simon, to me.
Again, he said, “How nice to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”
“I’m beginning to feel like the talk of the town,” I confessed to Myra,
“Don’t worry, dear, the announcement will soon take care of that.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “That’s what Catherine said too. I hope it goes well for Michael; he’s terribly nervous.”
“Is he?” asked Myra, “He doesn’t look it.” As we looked over, Michael was laughing over some story Gaston was regaling.
“He’s lucky enough to be surrounded by people who love him, so maybe that’s making him relax,” I thought aloud, looking at his deep brown eyes smiling in the company of his two parents and their spouses.
At five to seven, the doors were opened to the staff and they all bustled in punctually. Michael came to claim me at this stage. He seemed to want to show everyone I was here with him and he held my hand as everyone settled down to hear the announcement. If they were taken aback to see Michael and me admitted early and in the company of the directors, they were wise enough to hold their counsel and wait for the announcement they had heard was coming.
James waited until the bustling had stopped and he asked waiters to ensure everyone had a glass of champagne before he started his speech.
“Ladies and Gentlemen.
We are all here tonight to celebrate one hundred years of Banbury’s. It is an incredible achievement to have survived two world wars and several major recessions and to still be going strong. Banbury’s has been made such a success because of dedicated people like you, who through thick and thin, down the years have supported the business and my family. Whilst wishing the store a happy birthday, I wish to raise a toast to all of you who make this possible. My deepest thanks to you all!”
He raised his glass and said “to you all” before taking a small sip. Catherine, Lydia, Michael, Myra, and I all raised our glasses and were followed by the employees.
“As you all know, I am no spring chicken anymore, or my spring has sprung so to speak and I am nearing retirement age. Tonight I wish to introduce you to someone who is close to my heart and as of Monday your new managing director, Michael Henrii, currently known to you all as head of buying. I hope you will raise a glass to his success in his new role.”
There were general surprised murmurs around the hall as all raised their glasses to Michael as requested.
“There is another small change to the directorship but I will leave you in Michael’s capable hands as he brings you up to speed.”
There was a round of applause and a lot of whispering amongst the staff as Michael and James switched places. Michael coughed a couple of times to bring the room to order.
“Thank you, James, Dad,” he said.
“Please bear with me when I tell you all a story from ago. I was born Michael Banbury, parents James and Lydia,” he said, waving his arms to indicate both his parents.
“My parents went their separate ways, but I was lucky enough to enjoy not only the love and kindness of both of them, but also in time their new spouse:, Catherine, whom you all know, and Gaston Henrii, whom some of you may know. It would appear that my path was mapped out then, even unknown to myself because my mother has held the position of the second director of Banbury’s until today, when she signed it over to me.
I ask you all your forbearance on my not having been straight with you all from the start. This was my idea, not Dad’s, and I wanted it this way as I have come from a very different business background and I wanted to be able to learn the ropes without being afraid of making slip-ups. I want to thank you all for the help you have given me as I came to grips with the world of fashion.
You will all be relieved to know that James will for the meantime be staying on as chief executive and will be here at least twice a week to kick my butt when I need it. Please join me in raising a glass to my parents, James and Lydia.”
The room erupted into spontaneous applause and echoes of “to James and Lydia.” I was really pleased Michael’s speech was so well received. I admired his honest approach and how he had acknowledged the role Catherine and Gaston had played in his being there. As the applause died out, he spoke again.
“There is one further toast of the evening: please raise a glass to Catherine and Gaston, who supported Banbury’s, my parents, and me and made all this possible.”
Again echoes of Catherine and Gaston echoed around the room. Michael left the podium and put his arm round me, kissing me lightly.
“That was a beautiful heartfelt speech, Michael, well done,” I said.
“I agree, Michael, you’ve really won them over,” Myra added.
Many of the staff, who had become friendly with Michael, approached him and congratulated him. Some made comments that it wasn’t his only well-kept secret and I blushed my embarrassment. Gloria approached us and congratulated Michael, but she whispered to me.
“I think it was the dress that did it; you owe me one and Kate agrees with me as usual.” I found myself relaxing in her good-humoured banter.
“Maybe you’re right, Gloria; his reaction was one of those Kodak moments.”
“Where the hell did you get the dress? We sold it ages ago,” Gloria asked.
“You sold it to a friend of Michael’s. Apparently, he wanted to see it on me again.”
“I told you it was made for you,” Gloria exclaimed triumphantly.
“Gloria, I will always seek your advice first when I need clothes for a special occasion in the future.”
The media were invited in for the press release and then the doors were opened to all other guests. Champagne flowed. Congratulations were pouring in for Michael, and I had to paint on my smile as Michael, James, and Lydia ensured I was introduced to the scores of people they felt I needed to meet. Finally the dancing started and Michael claimed me for a couple of dances. I was so relieved to be in his arms dancing to the crooning sounds of Frank and Nancy Sinatra’s “Something Stupid.” It was great to be able to be myself and to relax as we moved to the music. I hadn’t had time to speak to him since the announcement.
“How are you finding it?�
� I asked him with concern, noticing the tired strain on his face.
“Relieved to be able to spend a couple of minutes with you,” he answered. “All evening we’ve been pushed and pulled from person to person and all I want to do is take you home and get you stripped down to that fuck-me underwear.”
He pulled me in closer and I noticed the familiar prodding of his erection as the music changed to Eric Clapton’s “Wonderful Tonight.”
“Your speech went down really well; you really hit the right note. I was very proud of you.”
I kissed him deeply, unaware that at least five press cameras were capturing the moment. We danced round the floor and Michael pulled me behind some pillars out of the view of everyone.
“Come on,” he said excitedly, sneaking me first to the lift and then along the dark corridors to his office.
“Round two,” he whispered as he shut the door. Leaning me over the desk, he repeated what he had done earlier. Pulling my thong aside, he massaged my clit until I was wet and entered me for exactly six strokes. He kissed me deeply and as I groaned for more, he settled my clothes and guided me back to the party, sneaking back onto the dance floor, to the strains of Chris De Burgh’s “Lady in Red.”
“That helped,” he said, smiling cheekily. Just as I was agreeing, there was a tap on Michael’s shoulder.
“Do you mind if I steal your charming partner?” James interrupted.
“Take good care of her, Dad,” he warned.
“I thought that went rather well, my dear, how about you?” James asked.
“Very well, actually; Michael’s speech was genuine and warm. He’ll be respected more for it I think. I hadn’t heard it before tonight.”
James raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Had you not, I thought you must have helped him. He wouldn’t allow me a preview either, nor indeed Catherine or Lydia. I must confess I am finding the night rather tiresome, but these things have to be done. Take heart, it’ll all be over soon.”
My Naughty Little Secret Page 18
