by Lily Harlem
“Perhaps we should trial the hammocks in Berlin. They’re big on forest camps over there. See how they sell and make a decision for the UK stock,” Richard suggested.
I shook my head and tapped my pen on the table. “No, we’re still trialing that whole store. I don’t think it would be an accurate study. Maybe the Nottingham branch would be a better way of testing the water for the hammocks.”
“Good idea,” Richard said, writing a note in his pad. “You want me to sort it?”
“Yep, that would be great.” My gaze swung back to my secretary. The sun was shining through the window, highlighting her hair and etching creases over the soft-pink blouse she wore. I liked that color on her, it matched her smell—flowers and powder, petals and soap.
She glanced up at me, caught me staring and gave a tiny smile. Then she bobbed her head low and crossed her legs, revealing just a hint of the top of her stocking. They were black with a scalloped lace rim and I’d bet they were soft as silk.
Damn it. I refuse to get a stiffy in a meeting—again!
55
Lily Harlem
I glanced at the clock. Five minutes to four. That would do.
“Great,” I said, dropping my pen on the table. “That’s it for today, er, no, actually that will do for the week. Let’s all get home.”
“Good plan,” Richard said, standing. “And you have a fantastic birthday weekend, boss.”
There was a murmur of happy birthday around the table accompanied by wide smiles. I’d supplied a big box of cream cakes that had been shared around the office at morning break. Now it was time to really enjoy my birthday. Tida had promised me something special tonight. Something she was looking forward to giving, so she said.
I took a long drink of water as the boardroom emptied, folded away my Mac and finally, when my hard-on had subsided, wandered into my office. It had rained earlier but the sky was blue now and my office bright. The fresh air blowing in through an open window was laced with the unique scent of summer in London—fumes and coffee, tarmac doused in rainwater.
After slipping my Mac into my briefcase, I turned off my mobile and reached to shut the window. My heart was light, my thoughts only on getting home.
The office door opened and shut. There was a clunk of the lock. Turning, I saw my secretary stepping farther into the room. Her dark eyes flashed. Her hair had been let down from the neat twist she wore during the day and now it flowed over her shoulders, a dense black curtain against the paleness of her blouse.
“I saw you looking,” she said, twitching her brows.
“At what?” I asked, folding my arms over my chest and admiring the way she walked in her impossibly high heels. One leg crossing over the other with each step and her hips rolling seductively.
“I saw you looking at my stocking tops.”
I waggled my eyebrows. “So you knew they were on show then?” 56
Dessert
“Not at first, no.” She stopped on the other side of my desk. “But when I saw your cheeks flush and you squirmed on your chair I suspected, rightly, that they were.”
“You know me so well.”
She rested her hands on the desk, bent low enough for me to get a sneaky peek down her top. Of course I’d seen what was down there plenty of times, but the allure was still intoxicating. My greedy gaze couldn’t resist.
“I do know you,” she said. “And I also know that you are itching to get home for your present.”
I nodded. Thoughts of Tida, naked and writhing, open and willing, besieged me.
My cock sprang to attention once more. Damn, if only I had an ounce of control when she was around. I was such a pushover.
“Maybe we shouldn’t wait,” she said, narrowing her eyes dangerously. “How about right here, right now?”
A knot of lust drew tight in my belly.
Really? Here?
I opened my mouth to speak but no words came out.
“Come on, John, live on the edge. No one will come in. I have locked the door.”
“Yes, I noticed.” Sucking in a deep breath, I moved behind her, admiring the way the curve of her buttocks could be seen through the short black pencil skirt she wore to the office. Each orb perfectly outlined and never a hint of a panty line. I wondered if today she’d even worn panties—perhaps that was part of my birthday treat. “Are you sure?”
She rocked her hips from side to side as though asking me to grip them, hold them, claim them as mine. “Yeah, more than sure. I want to look at the London skyline while you do it.”
Oh my god, she is serious.
57
Lily Harlem
“Here.” Tida dropped a blue-and-white tube on the desk and bent to a ninety-degree angle. “You’ll need this.”
The sight of the lube had my cock raging to full hardness in a split second. My beautiful fiancée, sexy secretary and all-’round obsession was giving me a wonderful gift.
Her ass.
I’d confessed in bed several weeks ago that it had always been a fantasy of mine to fuck an ass, but it had never been fulfilled. Lucky for me Tida was considerably more liberal and a whole heap more giving than Janice had ever been. With a gleeful clap of her hands, she had announced that she now knew exactly what I would be getting for my thirty-fifth birthday present.
And it seemed the time had come.
“Fuck me, John, fuck me hard and fast up the ass. I want to feel you there so badly.” Her words were an igniting flame to my already combusting lust. I bent over her back and kissed her neck, absorbed the sweet flavor and satiny texture of her flesh. I pressed my groin into the crevice of her butt cheeks but there was too much material in the way to satisfy even a molecule of my desire.
With fumbling fingers and my breaths coming hard, I bunched up her skirt and shoved until it was a belt around her waist. Her blouse crumpled and her hair fell to the side, some of it spreading over my notepad and stapler.
I’d been right, she wore no panties, just a pair of black suspenders that held her stockings in place. The dark silk against her delicate skin was one of the most beautiful sights I’d ever seen and could have been a birthday present all in itself.
She released a small whimper, one I knew signaled impatience. The wonderful thing about Tida was her desire for sex, her capacity for fucking, matched my own. We both just wanted to do it all the time, any spare moment, and working and living together was allowing us to indulge our most base desires. The Geisha Plate was no 58
Dessert
longer part of her life, it was just me, just us. We were as one the way I’d dreamed we would be that night in the tent.
“Ah, yeah,” I said on a long breath. “Your ass is so damn perfect, baby. So perfectly fuckable.”
“So fuck it,” she gasped, reaching down to fret her clit.
I hoped to hell we wouldn’t be disturbed by a knock at the door, because I didn’t think I’d be able to stop once I started feasting on my present.
Spreading her butt cheeks, I gazed at her dark feminine cleft, her puckered hole and the ripe folds of her labia. Her entrance was already leaking delicious juice and I slid a finger through the opening and filled her warm pussy.
“Oh, yes, yes,” she hissed, dropping her forehead to the table and stretching her legs wider. “Oh John, touch me, touch me everywhere.” Her pussy clamped around me and I added another finger, gave several long, languid shoves I released my cock from my suit pants. The feel of her gripping my digits, her moisture weeping onto my palm was enough to get a dewdrop of pre-cum trickling from my slit. I let it stay there, it was all good. We had dispensed with condoms and now the thought of feeling her darkest inside place, without latex, was almost too much to bear.
But I wanted her pussy first, just for a minute, just to coat myself in her natural lube and relish those hugging muscles fixing around me.
I aimed my head at her moist entrance and eased in that first inch. As usual she sucked in a breath, her body trembled and I felt her phy
sically, consciously relax to accommodate my glans.
“That’s it,” I said, watching with fascination as my thick girth, dark and veined, slipped into her pale, rosy folds. “Oh yeah, baby, this is just the starter, the warm-up.”
“Oh, it’s so good, ah…”
59
Lily Harlem
Despite the resistance I rode to the hilt, her pussy no match for the thick wedge of my cock.
“Oh John, oh, it is so…”
She flattened on the desk as though the effort of holding up was too much. My wiry pubic hair mashed against her smooth butt cheeks and I traced the outline of her suspender belt. I was so deep, so far inside her. I was sure I would never get enough of being in her glorious pussy. It was where I wanted to stay.
But the wrinkled rosette of her anus was just too tempting. Sitting there, all clamped shut. I wanted that too and she was giving it to me, letting me explore my dark desire.
She carried on fretting her clit, her right shoulder shifting with the hasty rotations. I reached for the lube and applied some to the tip of my finger. It was clear and cool and when I touched her hole she became even tighter, as if refusing me.
“Baby, are you sure?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, just do it.” Her tone was desperate, frantic.
I explored the outer edge of her anus, where the rucks of skin began. Spread the lube thoroughly and diligently until it felt as though she was used to me touching her there. Eventually I probed the tip of my index finger in.
She groaned and shifted her head so she rested her cheek on the table, her hair landing messily on my phone.
I wasn’t sure what to expect exploring this uncharted territory, but I kept on slipping in and up. Her insides were warm and satiny, different from her pussy, like smooth, plumy pillows of flesh. Her sphincter gripped me securely, as if not wanting to let me in or out.
“Ah baby, you feel so good in here,” I whispered, adding another finger and watching, fascinated as the taut band of muscle quivered around it.
60
Dessert
Her spine twitched, I saw her eyes shut and her mouth part. She was taking in short, shallow breaths that shifted her narrow rib cage.
“Babes, I’m gonna fuck your ass now,” I said, withdrawing my cock from her pussy and my fingers from her butt.
“Oh God, yes please, I want to come when you are in there, in my ass.” Everything she said was erotic music to my ears. How had I got so lucky to find someone so giving?
I fisted my shiny, throbbing cock, positioned the tip at her once again fastened-shut hole. Applied the tiniest amount of forward pressure and gained a little purchase, just over my slit.
There was barely any movement in either of us. It was as if every single nerve in both our bodies had homed in on that tiny part of her and the very tip of me.
Exerting more force, I breached the band of muscle; it stretched, resisted and melted open around my glossy head.
“Oh John, oh, oh…”
“Tida, you okay?” I gasped.
“Yes, yes, it’s, you are so…”
She didn’t need to say the word big. I could see how fucking enormous I was slipping into her tiny body.
I paused. Looked up and stared out at the city skyline, gave her time to adjust to my invasion. Perhaps I should have prepared her more, maybe I should stop, but damn it felt good, so fucking good.
Big Ben loomed in the distance, a car horn filtered up from the street below, and London life went on as I gained another inch of entry into Tida’s sweet little ass.
She arched her spine and lifted her butt to me. She was still working her clit and I could sense the shake in her thighs vibrating through to mine.
61
Lily Harlem
“Baby, I want it all,” I managed, studying my disappearing cock. There was no turning back now. This was it.
“Yes, yes, take it, I’m, I’m going to come soon, real soon.” Oh fuck, so am I.
Holding her hips firm, I slid in, riding on and on until my bollocks butted up against her labia and my entire shaft disappeared. Bloody hell, were we really doing this here, in my office, over my table?
Yes, oh yes. It’s fucking fabulous.
I withdrew a fraction then pressed in again gently, setting up a rocking in-and-almost-out motion. Gritting my teeth and holding her hips, I went on a ride to heaven.
My senses were reeling. I’d fantasized about this for so long, but never in my wildest dreams had it been this good, so carnal and wild, so damn risky. The feel of her tight anus rasping over my shaft and her heated depths burning my tip was a taste of ecstasy even before my climax.
She was bucking back for more now, encouraging me to reach maximum depth on each thrust. This was different from burying myself in her pussy—there was no cervix to butt up against, I just tunneled right into her core each time, it felt never ending.
“Ah baby,” I groaned. “This is the best birthday present ever. Fuck, you feel so good.”
Heat was building, all over my flesh, right through my guts, white-hot electric whips of scalding sensations that shot to my bollocks. Drawing them up, pinching them tight.
A keening moan left her lips, she strained her neck upward as if she too was staring out at the London rooftops. Though I had no idea if her eyes were open or closed.
My breaths were as ragged and desperate as hers. We were rutting hard now—I didn’t think she could take any more, take it harder, but she did. I was on fire, burning with the need to come.
62
Dessert
“Now,” I groaned. “Fuck it, come now.”
A silent, suddenly motionless tensing of her body told me she was on the precipice.
I shoved in, deeper than ever, my hunger knowing no bounds. My black-velvet need all consuming.
“Ah, ah, ah…oh, yes,” she cried.
Her whole body went into a series of wild spasms, her internal muscles dragging me deeper. I could hear my own moans of pleasure echoing around the wooden panels of my office, but they didn’t sound like me, they were so animal like, so primitive. I was on the brink.
And then my need spiraled out of control. Brilliant bursts of light exploded in my vision. My hips bucked harder, delving me right to her core. My swollen shaft stretched her so much her anal flesh appeared thin, pale and smooth. A perfect O of entry. My orgasm came as a cataclysm of wonderful relief. The volcanic pressure had been painful in my balls, and as I spurted into her ass, stream after stream of spunk, growls of desperate satisfaction rumbled up from my chest. Sanity and reality deserted me. There was only Tida, Tida and what she did to me and what I did to her.
She had given me the ultimate intimacy, the ultimate trust. I loved her with all my heart and with every cell in my body and every time we fucked the intensity of that love just grew stronger.
As my climax wore itself out, I looked down at her, slumped beneath me, dragging in air. Cute little tremors wound their way up her spine and over her buttocks. After several slow pumps, I carefully withdrew, my cock seeming an endless length as it emerged from her depths. I palmed her butt cheeks, rubbed them gently and watched her hole snap shut when my glans finally popped out.
“You okay, baby?” I asked. My breathing was still labored, my heart still pounding.
Blood raced through my ears.
She gave a shaky little whimper but didn’t move.
63
Lily Harlem
I bent and kissed her ass cheeks, the small of her back, the side of her neck. “You can’t stay like that,” I whispered. “With your bare butt in the air.”
“You’re going to have to help me up, I feel weak,” she murmured.
Quickly I tucked my cock away and secured my pants. I rearranged Tida’s skirt and blouse and scooped her into a gentle embrace.
She was right, her body was lax and floppy, like a rag doll. I would never forget how light she was in my arms in this boneless, just-fucked state.
“Mm
m, perhaps this is why we should have done this in bed,” I said onto her lips.
“You could have gone to sleep now.”
She tilted her head, her eyelids heavy and lazy. “Oh no, not sleep.” She kissed me and gripped my shirt. “I want to do it again.”
I raised my eyebrows and damn if my dick didn’t bob.
Again.
She pressed into me and grinned naughtily. “Yes, if that was the starter I can’t wait to sample the main course and, of course, dessert.” 64
About the Author
Lily Harlem is a multi-published, award winning author of contemporary erotic romance. She lives in the UK with her husband and a bunch of animals, all rescued, and loves to spend her days immersed in imagination.
Her books are a mixture of full length novels and short stories, some are one offs, some are sequels or part of a series (all can be enjoyed as stand-alone reads). What they each have in common are colourful characters travelling on everyone’s favourite journey — falling in love. If the story isn’t deliciously romantic and down and dirty sexy, it won’t be written, at least not by Lily. So with the bedroom door left well and truly open you are warned to hang on for a steamy, sensual ride - or rides as the case might be!
Lily welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.
Tell Us What You Think
We appreciate hearing reader opinions about our books. You can email us at
[email protected].
Also by Lily Harlem
Cold Nights, Hot Bodies
Hot Ice 1: Hired
Hot Ice 2: Cross-Checked
Hot Ice 3: Slap Shot
Mattress Music
Ménage à Music
Mirror Music
Shared
Shared Too
Stockholm Seduction
Stockholm Surrender
Print Books by Lily Harlem
Hot Ice 1: Hired
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
Dessert
ISBN 9781419939204
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
Dessert Copyright © 2012 Lily Harlem
Edited by Jillian Bell
Cover design by Irene Adler
