by Bridy McAvoy
Still, at least I managed to catch up on the laundry and other chores and spent the afternoon baking and getting meals ready for the week ahead. Mundane stuff really, but I felt our relationship had moved onto the next level. It was how I could move on to the next step without arousing your suspicion. That thought began to loom large in my mind.
I mean, what would you have thought if, on the Wednesday night, I’d just taken you into my mouth, sucked you down and taken you into my throat within five seconds of starting to blow you for what was supposed to be my very first time? Not exactly plausible, is it?
I was also thinking about what I was going to tell Mr. Bryant. My initial anger had dissipated, and I loved my job. I couldn’t just walk out, but could I say ‘no’ to him? I wasn’t sure I could, but I knew I should. As it happened, come Monday morning I didn’t get to deal with him. He dealt with me and it was a huge shock.
* * * *
I’d gotten into the habit of getting in to work early on Mondays and this particular day was no exception. The moment I walked through the door I found Mr. Bryant standing at my desk, waiting for me. His face was like thunder, absolutely irate. “My office, now!”
I couldn’t for the life of me think what was wrong as I followed him through to the office. I hadn’t even put my purse down behind my desk. The second I walked through the door into his office he was in my face, almost screaming at me.
“Are you out of your tiny fucking mind? What possessed you to be so fucking stupid? Were you getting paid for that little stunt? You stupid cunt!”
He tended to use the slightly nicer terms like breasts rather than tits, pussy rather than cunt, so I was totally surprised and at the same time mystified. I had no idea what he was talking about. His anger sparked my own.
“What are you fucking talking about?” We must have sounded like an old married couple having a go at one another. Thankfully, there was nobody to hear us.
“Don’t you get smart with me, you fucking slut!”
That did it. I was steamed. I leaned back and let rip, my arm slamming around to slap him right across the face but I guess he was ready for me. He caught my wrist and yanked my arm up above my head. I tried again with the other arm—same result. He pushed me back against the door, holding my hands above my head, his body turned slightly sideways to stop me bringing my knee up as he pressed me against the door. I was sandwiched between his body and the door.
“Stop that, or I’ll fucking hurt you. Yes, that’s right, I did. I called you a fucking slut. A stupid, fucking, cheap cunt who took her fucking clothes off in a bar and let all-comers fuck her for fun on Friday night. You stupid little tart.”
All the fight left me as my mouth dropped open in shock. I’d known he hadn’t been there, so how did he know? It wasn’t like I’d seen him in between, or boasted about it in such a way that it could have got back to him. I hadn’t mentioned it to anybody. My knees started to buckle. I think I was about to faint. He let go of my arms and stepped away, then gestured for me to sit on the seat nearest the door. I sank down onto it, grateful to take the strain off my trembling legs. I forced myself not to cry, but I could feel tears prickling my eyes as I tried to breathe properly.
“You thought I wouldn’t find out, didn’t you?”
“So, how did you find out, and what business is it of yours?”
He bristled at the fact I was challenging him, but I wasn’t going to back down on that point. After all, he was the one who’d told me to start dating. In fact, if my memory was correct, he’d told me to experience a gang-bang. My temper was up now.
“It’s my business because I want to make sure you’re okay, that your reputation is intact.”
“My reputation is my reputation, and everything was set up carefully.”
“Carefully set up, was it, you stupid little tart?”
“Yes, it fucking well was.”
“Don’t start swearing at me, little girl. If it was so carefully set up, answer me this question.”
I was getting pissed with him calling me tart, and the little girl really got my back up. I folded my arms across my chest and glared at him.
“If it was so well controlled, tell my why my son walked into a bar on Friday night and got roped in to stand in for one of the guys involved in a gang-bang later on. He was only in the bar twenty minutes when a guy, who he later found out had arranged it, walked up to him. He’d just seen this guy lead you out of the bar, and then return from upstairs, so he knew who the girl would be. He fucking recognized you.”
This time when my mouth dropped open it kinda just flapped there. I couldn’t believe it.
“That’s right, lost that snarky little tongue of yours, haven’t you? It was quite embarrassing over the breakfast table to hear him telling his brother all about you, knowing you worked for me. Thank your lucky stars my daughter was staying at her boyfriend’s that weekend so wasn’t there to hear it.”
I could see the way he visibly fought to regain control, to rein in his anger, but it was obviously hard for him.
“I didn’t… I didn’t recognize anyone…”
“Listen, you stupid woman. When you wanted to spread your wings, I thought you’d talk to me and let me set up something where you were controlled, and your partners were hand-picked, not someone just in off the street roped in at the last minute!”
The fact Jim had done that to me stung, and stung hard. He’d promised me that he would personally know and vet everyone. Obviously, he hadn’t and he’d lied. I’d already decided I wasn’t going back to that bar, and that decision had now been validated.
I had met the older Bryant son once or twice, but I couldn’t remember meeting Ric, the younger one.
“Ric?”
“Yeah. My youngest son was teasing his brother about getting first crack at my assistant. How do you think I felt?”
“I’m sorry…”
“Too right you are, and you’re going to be worse.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re going to make yourself an appointment for lunchtime with your doctor and get a full spectrum STI test done. You’ll need the results back PDQ.”
“Why do I need the results so quickly?”
“Because, my dear, Ric only got your mouth on Friday night, and he wants a shot at your pussy. Frank Junior wants a piece too, and the only way I can stop Ric telling everyone about it is to organize a private tail party of their own.”
“Well, you can forget that.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m nobody’s piece for a tail party.”
“Wanna bet?”
“Yes. Friday was my swansong. I know now what I want in life is Simon.”
“And what difference does that make? You were dating him before Friday—in fact, you’ve been dating him for months.”
“It’s over—all the playing around is over. Period. End of discussion. I was going to tell you that this morning, but you beat me to the punch.”
“Have you forgotten who Sarah’s boyfriend is?”
I shrugged.
“You dated that wet blanket a few times before you met Simon. His name’s Malcolm. Do you remember him now?”
I nodded. The description of him as a wet blanket was pretty accurate as far as I could remember.
“Do you remember where he works?”
I could feel the color draining out of my face. He worked for The Gazette, but I’d forgotten that.
“What do you think would happen when the paper publishes the story of how the Assistant City Librarian gets her jollies by going to bars on a Friday night and taking on all-comers?”
“But I don’t, it was a one-time thing…” I trailed off. He was right. Such an article in the paper would finish me in the city I’d grown up in, probably finish my library career entirely.
“And what do you think Simon would say if he read it?”
I was glad I was sitting down. The room started to sway.
“Now maybe you understa
nd why I managed to talk both my sons out of telling their sister—but they want a piece of the action in return.”
I swallowed hard and just hung my head, all the fight knocked out of me.
“So, Wednesday night after your clean report…”
I shook my head. “No.”
“What do you mean ‘No’?”
“What I said. No. I have plans on Wednesday night and I’m not breaking them. Simon has a rare evening off mid-week and I’m not standing him up.” I lifted my head and glared at him, trying to show him my resolve.
After a few moments he nodded. “Okay, I can see you mean it. So we’ll have to make it Thursday night instead?”
I breathed a sigh of relief. I didn’t want to stand Simon up for any reason, but I could see the ramifications of not pulling out either. It was distasteful, but I didn’t know what else to do. After a few seconds I nodded.
“Good, I’ll send them to the condo for about seven-thirty.”
“Make it eight, please.”
“Why?”
“Because that way I’ve got enough time to get ready.”
“Okay, deal.”
“As long as they know this is a one-time thing.”
“Are you in any position to argue?”
“Because if they try it on again, I’ll take them and you down with me. I’ll take the story to Malcolm myself and paint myself as the fucking victim, tell the paper how you and they blackmailed me into it.”
He nodded, even forced a smile. “I suggest you go make that appointment with the doctor now, and then go freshen your face. You look like shit and it’s time we opened up. I’ll look after the front desk for ten minutes.” He smiled more genuinely this time. “Wouldn’t want to scare the patrons.”
* * * *
Mr. Bryant didn’t touch me that day, or Tuesday or Wednesday. I got the results back from the test on Wednesday afternoon—all clear. Obviously I hadn’t told the doctor exactly why I wanted the tests, just told her I was a little unhappy about my previous sexual partner. She hadn’t quizzed me, and that was that.
He was polite but distant for the whole of the three days. I tried to be nice to him. By then I’d recognized my mistake had been a doozy. There were so many ways I could have set up that experience for myself without taking any of the risks. The least of those being making sure everyone had been tested.
Our professional relationship had taken a knock from it and I wondered if things would recover. By Wednesday afternoon, when I told him the test results, things seemed somewhat more normal. I wondered what Thursday afternoon was going to be like. Would he try something, and if he did, how would I respond?
I knew he’d manipulated me, and had taken his sexual pleasure with me, taken my innocence, and taken advantage of my naivety, but I had a soft spot for the man. Sure, he got to cum a lot, but so did I. Unless it was just a quickie, he made sure I was satisfied, or more so, every time.
I thought hard about what I would say if he started back down the physical chastisement route.
First, though, was Wednesday night, and I had to work out what I was going to do, or rather just how far I was going to let you go.
After the experience in the cinema, I wasn’t going to re-impose the old boundaries. Once the barrier was down, it stayed down. I wanted you to touch me again, to play with my breasts, to touch my pussy, to make out in the steamiest sense. Despite how I’d felt on Sunday, I wasn’t ready to give in all the way and let you fuck me—I wanted to make sure that time was special. If I wasn’t prepared to go that far, was I prepared to do something else—to blow you? If I did, could I conceal my existing experience in performing such an act?
My mind was spiraling that night as I got myself ready.
She chuckled. “I’m sure you can remember what I was wearing that night.”
“I guess I can. A silk top with a big printed butterfly on the front, and a denim mini-skirt. You were bare-legged too. No stockings because the skirt was so short.”
“Yeah, it was the shortest denim one I owned. It wasn’t particularly tight, but it did hug my butt. Since it wasn’t tight it could be pushed up quite easily. I really did calculate what I was going to wear.”
“I know. I was really shaken when I helped you out of the car and everything bounced—you weren’t wearing a bra, and that was a first for me with you.”
She giggled. “You should have seen the look on your face. The moment I saw you’d noticed, my nipples turned into hard rocks indenting the front of the silk top.”
“There was me thinking it was simply the cool evening air washing over you.”
“No, honey. It was all you.”
“How I kept my hands off you all through the meal, I never knew.”
“You didn’t, you had your hand on my knee except when you needed to use the knife as well as the fork.”
Actually it wasn’t just my knee, you were stroking my thigh too, and my panties were soaked. When I excused myself to the powder room as you paid the bill, I had to use a wad of toilet tissue to try and dry them and myself. I didn’t do a good job, but it didn’t matter too much. Nobody other than you was going to see the back of my skirt if I did cause a wet patch.
I knew where I was going too, and as soon as we were in the car I drove off like some kind of mad woman. You were a little surprised, I guess, but went with the flow, especially when I reached over and grabbed your hand and brought it over to my thigh. You rubbed my leg and gradually slid your hand higher until you reached the hem of my skirt and then kept going. I ignored you, seemingly concentrating on driving, but in my head other things were going on.
I’d been aiming for one particular place. At the time you didn’t know it was only about a mile from this house, but it was a quiet road, and nobody else parked there at night. Believe me, I’d driven up it a couple of times every night that week to make sure. We made out for a while, and then I broke the kissing.
“Can we get more comfortable?”
You raised an eyebrow at me, and I nodded toward the back seat. You were out of the car in a flash and around the front to hold my door for me. I wasn’t sure if that was your innate good manners, or simple eagerness to get me into the back seat of the car. I wasn’t sure how far you thought I was going to go but, given my top was already bunched up around my breasts, I was obviously letting you go quite some distance. Any fool would have seen that, and you were nobody’s fool. Opening the car doors triggered the interior lights, and when you opened the driver’s door you made sure you took a long look at me with my skirt rucked up toward my waist, and my top heading toward my neck. I shivered at the look in your eyes.
As you helped me out of the car you pulled me into your arms and kissed me again. I didn’t stop you kissing me, nor when you moved your hands to my sides, grabbed hold of the hem of my top and pulled it up and off, over my head, leaving me naked to the waist. I almost came when you did that, and again when you pinned me back against the car, holding my hands in one of yours while your mouth attacked one nipple, your free hand the other.
I’d suggested we get in the back seat and there we were outside the car, with me topless. I didn’t even know where my best silk top was—you’d thrown it somewhere. What if someone had driven past? I guess I got my head back into the game at that point and stopped you, although a very large part of me wanted to let you keep going, to strip me naked and fuck me to within an inch of my life. I didn’t, though—I stopped you.
I think you thought you’d gone too far and upset me again when I pushed you away but I was just in panic mode, going too far too fast with you. I sat back into my car seat and found my top draped over the steering wheel—you’d thrown it into the car.
Before you could say anything, I pulled you toward me, trapping your body upright between me and the car door. You grunted in surprise as I unzipped you and then fished out your cock. I wasn’t quite sure what I wanted to do. After all, I was supposed to be hesitant and a virgin, but I was so hot I was melting.
I’ve said you can reduce me to nothing more than a puddle in my panties, and that night you surely had. I didn’t dare let you know about my cock-sucking skills, so in the end I started to stroke you. You groaned and moaned but stood there and let me do what I wanted. I knew you could see my face was only inches from your cock, a cock I truly hadn’t seen before, and I thought it was gorgeous. Luckily, you couldn’t see the play of emotions over my face. I was wavering between excitement, contrition—that I’d not done this before—and outright lust.
You didn’t last long, which was a bonus for me. I’d got you hot too, and before I realized it you were fountaining your cum into the air. I shrieked and sat back, so instead of getting a face full, a little landed on my chest, the rest splattering all over my skirt and legs.
“Oh, yuck!”
You groaned and then gasped out, “Sorry.”
For my purposes, my reaction had been perfect. You were so apologetic. I had to force myself not to giggle. I grabbed a tissue, wiping my hand and dabbing at my chest, then pulled my top on, quickly covering up before swinging my legs into the car.
We drove back to your place in near silence, and you apologized as I pulled over to drop you off. I think you were close to panicking that maybe things had crossed a line again, but I’d been thinking about things as we drove. My reaction had been perfect, if a little over the top.
“Oh, come on, you great big lummox.”
I put both hands on the sides of your head and pulled you to me and almost kissed your face off. It took a few seconds before you calmed down a little and started to kiss me back. We made out for a couple of minutes and I held you tight. You were such a good boy, you didn’t try to grab my breasts again—although I wouldn’t have stopped you unless you’d tried to take my top off again.
“I’ll see you Saturday, okay?”
“Sure, I’ve booked us a nice table.”
“Where?”
“You’ll see. It’s my surprise for you.”
