Celia moaned, and in horror noticed the rest of the guests had looked up at her.
Trying to keep her rampant heart in check, Celia motioned to her steak, “This is just divine, how are your meals?”
With George’s finger sliding in and out of her slurping hole, Celia feigned interest as each guest reeled off shopping lists on sumptuous their meals were. Just as the last guest gave his rendition of a perfectly roasted shoulder of lamb, Celia thought she had averted disaster. That was until George’s non-descript English colleague, Carl, had decided to focus his attention on her and talk about other meals he had experienced in other fine restaurants.
“This is definitely a wonderful restaurant, but have you ever been to The Framers on the west coast?”
“Um, no, I can’t say I have,” Celia’s pussy was now squelching with juice, but George didn’t seem at all deterred and was gently easing the mouth of her slit open to slide another finger inside.
“Now that is an oyster bar worth writing home about, they have the most delicious menu. I think they catch their oysters that morning on their own boat! But, if you’re after steak, and you certainly sound like you enjoy your steak, I heard there was a….” Carl’s voice mingled with the ambient noise of the candlelit restaurant, Celia could barely nod her head in feigned agreement as her body opened and surrendered to George’s fingering.
“…What do you think?” Carl asked.
“Oh, I totally agree, you’ll have to email across a list of your favorite restaurants and recommendations for me,” Celia hoped that was the answer he had fished for.
Suddenly, George then seemed to twist his torso away from Celia to ask his neighbor a quick question, what this did was allow him to twist his wrist and slip the tip of his thumb into Celia’s swollen clit. Stuck in this position while he spoke to his colleague, George was in the perfect position to massage Celia’s sopping g-spot and rub her steel-hardened clit.
Burrowing her elbows into the table, Celia involuntarily arched her back and dropped her tailbone, widening and engorging her wet pussy with more of George’s hand.
“Oh Carl,” George motioned to his colleague, cutting the conversation off, “Tell me about the fishing thing you did just the other weekend,”
Now no longer under the focus of Carl, Celia opened her thighs as wide as she could and pretended to reach for her napkin. Instead, she grabbed George’s hand, extracted the fingers and vigorously rubbed them against her slick nub.
George obliged and discreetly swirled his fingers faster and faster around Celia’s clit before plunging three of his fingers back into her tightened slit. A fine beading of sweat had erupted on Celia’s neck, and her breath caught in gasps. Further and further she spread her thighs to George’s touch. Slamming his fingertips against her swollen g-spot, George was finger-fucking Celia into orgasm at a table of strangers. Unable to stop the pent-up orgasm from screaming through her body, Celia gripped the edge of the table and squeezed her butt as her pussy pulled and squeezed on George’s slick fingers, a spurt of cum soaking his hand and her panties. Celia trembled with the violent orgasm and pulled her thigh’s together to try and control the pelvic convulsions, until finally, she began breathing again.
George left his fingers inside of Celia for a few more moments before letting them slide out. Celia watched in surprise as George lifted his hand from his lap and slipped the glistening fingers into his mouth in front of Carl and the other guests, who were oblivious to this strange show.
“Mmmm, delicious,” George interrupted, slurping on his digits, “Sorry to interrupt boys, but I could so do this again,” and although he motioned to his almost finished plate, Celia knew it wasn’t the pasta he had enjoyed.
Chapter Three
The table guests stood at the entrance of the restaurant, a legion of arranged taxis sitting at the curb ready to take the guests back to their hotels.
The service at the restaurant had been impeccable, and at Celia’s recommendation the wait staff had arranged the taxis shortly after the desserts had been served.
George and Carl had been the first to leave shortly after dessert; they were catching the last flight back to London. George had loudly reiterated his cordial invitation to show Celia the London sights should she be in town with a day to kill, then patted her shoulder and left; he hadn’t even given her his number.
Now, Celia was wrapped in her trench coat and was waving off each Avery Industries guest as they fell into their taxis and zoomed off into the distance.
The last taxi had left, and Celia was standing with Trent on the sidewalk.
“My driver is coming around now, would you like a lift home?”
“Ha, as if I would be given the choice,” Celia laughed.
The limousine arrived and Trent motioned the driver to stay seated while he opened the door for Celia and he slid in next to her.
The limousine was classically elegant. No outrageous or glowing bars, just sumptuous leather, hidden chilled bins and plenty of ports for Trent to hook up his technology while on the move.
Celia leant against Trent and drank in his heady scent, no matter which cologne he wore she could still detect the sexual animalistic side of his nature. She had seen men and women quail in his presence in both the boardroom and bedroom.
Celia had drunk more than her fair share of wine, so her inhibitions were at an all-time low, so she slipped her hand onto Trent’s crotch and gave a gentle squeeze. Despite the rocketing orgasm from earlier, she desperately wanted to finish the evening with Trent inside of her.
Trent let out a deep breath and pulled Celia closer, “All I wanted was to be alone with you in the restaurant,” he muttered into her hair, “You looked stunning, and the guys loved you,” there wasn’t a touch of irony in his voice, the aggressive fingering must have gone unnoticed.
“I would be lying if I said I was completely focused on dinner,” Celia started, “May I take the best seat in the house?”
Trent smiled and spoke to his driver to take them for a drive along the waterfront, and then he activated the privacy screen.
Celia wriggled her panties off while Trent unzipped his pants and pulled out his long and thick cock. Even though his cock wasn’t entirely aroused, the girth was impressive.
Celia slid onto Trent’s lap and pitched slightly forward, letting Trent hike up her black dress. He gave Celia’s chocolate bottom a good squeeze before reaching for his length and lining it up with Celia’s slit.
“Jesus, you’re soaking,” Trent gasped as he felt droplets of Celia’s juice drop onto his swelling plum head.
“Hmm-mm,” Celia fed Trent’s tip inside and slid down his length, coming to a stop in his lap.
“Holy…. Fuck…” Trent bucked and wrapped his hands tightly around Celia’s shapely waist, her hips giving the perfect anchor for his thrusts.
Pitching forwards, Celia slid up Trent’s length and milked his cock, each lift and drop making Trent harder and thicker.
The sights of the city swept past the windows as Celia fucked her boss, her ample bottom cushioning her drop into Trent’s muscled thighs. The pressure of Trent’s swollen head along the length of her slippery pussy was making Celia gasp and pant, and she could tell from Trent’s anguished pulls on her hips that he was getting close.
Between breaths, Trent gasped to Celia, “Go forward, put your hands on the bench seat,”
Celia leant further forward and got onto her knees, Trent following the movement so his cock stayed snug inside her vacuum slit. With Celia leaning on the seats opposite, Trent used his new position to wildly plunge his cock into her sopping hole, the slap of flesh reverberating in the cavernous plush limousine.
Just as Celia began to feel the tingle of another orgasm, the piercing shrill of a mobile phone blared from Trent’s pants.
Trent plunged his cock deeply into Celia and then fumbled with his pocked and plucking his phone out. After a moment, there was a beep as Trent flicked the call to connect, “What the f
uck is going on,” no matter how annoyed she was that Trent insisted on answering the phone while he was still inside her, Celia was shocked at how angry he sounded, “He left what? Fuck, ok. Look sorry for snapping, thanks for calling,”
Celia could feel Trent deflate inside of her, “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to the office, one of our guests left his briefcase in the office and needs it back before his 7am flight tomorrow,” Trent pulled his thick length from Celia and tucked it back into his pants before pulling Celia’s skirt down and giving her a hand back to their seats.
“I’m sorry, for… that and answering the phone,” Trent pulled Celia into the crook of his armpit.
Celia’s insides writhed, but she knew that with Trent’s personal apartments in the penthouse of his building there was a good chance of an encore performance if she played her cards right, “That’s fine, it wasn’t your fault.”
Chapter Four
By the time they got to the corporate suites of Avery Industries the city had mellowed and most of the surrounding skyscrapers were only illuminated by the legion of cleaning staff working off each building’s emergency lighting systems.
Trent and Celia combed the office until they found the briefcase and Trent ran down to get his driver to drop it off at the guest’s hotel.
Meanwhile, Celia made herself comfortable in Trent’s very expensive leather desk-chair and watched the city through his floor-to-ceiling windows; the view was spectacular.
“Enjoying yourself?” Trent had snuck back into the office, his perfect ‘V’ frame blocking most of the doorway. Had Trent not gone into entrepreneurialism he could have been a stellar rugby player or rower on appearance alone.
“It’s better, now,” Celia smiled at Trent, “So is this what you see every day here? Do you make your secretaries and interns mince around for you?”
“Ben does all the mincing I need, but no, I don’t play that game here,” Trent walked forwards and placed his hands down on the heavy wooden desk.
“Really? Well, then I guess I’ll need to pop these back on then,” Celia held her panties up for Trent to see.
“Oh now, don’t be so harsh, a man can change,” Trent feigned horror.
“Well, Mr. Avery,” a naughty glint caught in Celia’s eye, she had a saucy idea. Leaping up from the chair, Celia made the best impression of a fastidious secretary she could and hip-swayed her way around the desk to her boss, “How can I be of service?” she stood close to Trent and gave her ample bosom a thrust.
“Well,” Trent growled back, “You can rethink your clothing options Miss, this dress is far too revealing, your heels too suggestive and the absence of panties a total shame in a place of work, it will give the men impure thoughts. Am I going to have to punish this infringement?”
“Mr. Avery, I will do anything to keep my job,” she winked.
Trent ignored the wink and continued with his gruff persona, “Good, that’s what I expected. You’re going to take some… dictation,”
Celia grabbed a notepad and pen and sat in the guest chair in front of the desk.
“I…” Trent began, waiting for Celia to write.
“I…” she repeated.
“Will…”
“Will…”
“Wear… Panties… To… Work…”
Celia scribbled this down and looked up, a little underwhelmed by Trent’s creativity.
“Because…” Trent continued, “My… Boss… Wants… To… Ram… His… Rock hard… Cock… Into… My… Gushing… Pussy,”
Celia looked back up at Trent, “How can I recompense this infringement, sir?”
Trent took the notepad and pen away from Celia and pulled her up from the chair, “By fucking your boss, my dear girl,”
Trent pushed Celia onto the desktop and pulled her knees apart. He pressed forwards, kissing Celia deeply while his engorging erection pressed through his pants against Celia’s slippery pussy.
Celia fumbled with Trent’s pants and after several energetic tugs forced the waistband down and took the thick prick in her hand.
“My secretary has been very naughty, hasn’t she?” Trent began.
“Hmm-mmm,”
“She wants her boss’ cock, doesn’t she?”
“Hmm-mmm”
Trent lined up his mushroom tip and forced his way into Celia’s tightened snatch, the force of his entrance ripping through Celia’s tunnel like never before.
Celia collapsed onto the desk and spread her legs wide, allowing Trent to hook his hands onto her high-heeled shoes and pull her in as he plunged forwards.
“These shoes are just fuckable,” Trent gasped between thrusts. Trent was thick, hard and on-edge, the veins on his cock standing out and rubbing Celia’s pussy hole with deliciousness.
“You enjoying being fucked Miss?”
“Yes sir, oh my God yes,”
Trent leant down over Celia and propped his body up on the desk. Celia wrapped her legs around Trent and pulled him in, the wetness of her slit slurping and bubbling onto the polished desk surface.
“Oh my fucking god,” Trent’s thrusts became wild, the coarse hair on his pubis grazing Celia’s rock hard clit and sending sparks up her back.
Celia began to pant and moan, pulling Trent closer so his rough hair would bruise her swollen clit.
“Ahhh,” Trent’s growl built into a painful-sounding cry, the veins on his neck puckering from the skin as his body concentrated on shooting a load of cum into Celia.
Celia’s body bucked and a rioting orgasm slammed through her spine, her pussy milking Trent’s cock over the edge causing him to plunge a gush of cum deep at her cervix.
Sweaty and panting, Trent looked down at Celia, “Let that be a lesson Miss, you have to wear panties,”
“Yes… sir,” she gasped.
Chapter Five
Having long abandoned the thought of going home, Celia and Trent made their way down to the ground level and into the secret residents’ only access lift.
Trent’s purpose-built tower was one of the cleverest in design and had won dozens of awards across design, function and carbon neutrality.
Nestled in the heart of the central business district, the bottom levels contained exclusive retail shops and beauty spas, while the middle layer held corporate suites, serviced suites and conference rooms. Trent made a pretty profit from the serviced offices and conference centers. Start-ups would hot-desk or hire out entire sections of the offices while small to medium industry meetings could be held in the conference centre. With a dedicated on-site IT team, the corporate suites and conference rooms had become immensely popular and were becoming increasingly difficult to get into. Above all this were apartments, some of the city’s most desired and hotly contended apartment homes. Some of the apartments had been designed by leading interior designers, and when the building opened the glossy magazines had a field day reporting on the designers, designs and the rich people who had bought them. However, what made the building particularly special was the custom security and IT infrastructure hidden inside; it boasted some of the best technology money could buy, which Trent had actually had a hand at making, so big business with the need for smarter systems had jumped at the chance to take offices.
Furthermore, with exclusive residents taking home in the tower, one of Trent’s early ideas was to have a separate section of resident-only elevators that were secreted away at ground level and underground car park. This had made the apartments a must-have for celebrities in hiding, expensive rehab centers with outpatient facilities and rich people with sordid secrets.
Trent and Celia had headed back outside the tower and to the secret alcove that hid the residents’ only elevator. In seconds an elevator appeared and they were zoomed back up the tower into the upper echelons before coming to a complete stop at the topmost floor.
“I have a special guest staying with me,” Trent began as they walked into the opulent penthouse. The apartment was ringed with floor to ceiling
windows that showed every corner of the glittering city. Although it was a colossal home with five bedrooms, multiple living areas and a ridiculously large balcony and rooftop garden, Trent hardly spent much time in his city home.
“Oh yes, who, sorry?” Celia brought herself back to Trent’s conversation.
Just then, Celia’s eyes were hooked onto the glistening torso of none other than Mark, Trent’s younger and fairer-featured brother.
The first, and last, time they met Mark had fucked Celia into a spectacular orgasm at a private orgy. He was a thoughtful lover to say the least, and the memories of their coupling still sent tingles down her spine.
“Celia,” Mark said appreciatively, “It is so good to see you again,” he walked forward and gave her a lingering kiss on the cheek.
Mark smell radiated of clean, masculine sweat brought on by a late night session of exercise, Celia and Trent seemed to have interrupted him as he was toweling off.
“Celia has won over all out international branches, and I think this calls for a celebratory drink,” Trent beamed and made his way into the huge ballroom-like kitchen.
“Can’t imagine anyone not liking you, Celia,” Mark smiled and sidled up closer to her ear, “I still think about that night you know, you have spoiled me,” Mark then sniffed her and gave her an enquiring look, “You smell very sexy…”
Celia felt her stomach flip with delight, to have two eligible bachelors and gorgeous men rapturous over her body beat any fantasy she ever had with her vibrator.
There was a loud ‘pop’; a tinkle of glasses and Trent reappeared with three full glasses of champagne.
‘A toast, to good times and great successes,” Trent announced, and they clicked glasses.
“Now,” Trent began, “There is something we must talk about,”
Celia couldn’t stand another minute bathed in the juices of two orgasms and a full day of work, so she interrupted Trent and asked to be excused so she could take a shower and change first. Not surprised by her request, Trent showed her one of the many guest rooms with an adjoining bathroom where a softly laundered bathrobe hung ready to go.
ROMANCE: THREESOME : Billionaire Brothers' Party (MFM Menage Romance) (New Adult Contemporary Threesome Short Stories) Page 21
