by Hazel Parker
I rode down to Amelia’s place, parked the bike, and sent her a message to let her know I was there. I waited for her to come down, but after three minutes, I felt a small amount of fear that she was not actually going to be there. She had said that she would be home by now, but it was Rothenberg Banking; that world demanded constant availability, from the first-year analyst to the CFO of the company. And such availability had to be fulfilled at the snap of a finger.
I looked down at my phone.
“One sec,” she had written about three minutes ago. She definitely got called in. It’s something I should have foreseen coming. Oh well. It—
And then my jaw dropped when she stepped out.
She looked nothing like the employee that I saw every day at Rothenberg. She wore sunglasses, a low-cut tank top, tight blue jeans, and cowgirl boots. I know it wasn’t exactly an artful description, but she just looked so goddamn fucking hot. And I’m the one getting to drive her around. Holy shit.
“Damn, Amelia,” I said, not bothering to hide my admiration for her body.
“Wouldn’t want to get my work clothes ruined while I did this, now would I?” she said as she walked over. She put her hands on the motorcycle, which was still on. She pet it like it was a tiger that would bite her at any second—tenderly and gently, but never with such force as to possibly upset it.
“You gonna get on?” I said.
She looked up at me, smiled, and looked back down. She’s nervous. She needs some confidence to get on this bike.
“You can do it,” I said, trying to pump her up. “I promise you’ll be safe. If it makes you feel better, if we get in a wreck, I’m more likely to get hurt.”
I had no idea if that was true or not. It sounded like a good thing to say.
“That’s sweet,” Amelia said, which I knew wasn’t a true statement. “I’ve just never done this before.”
“Might as well push yourself, right?” I said. “If you’re not going to take some time off from work, you ought to at least give it something new to invigorate it.”
“Yeah, I know…”
I put my hand on Amelia’s arm.
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go.”
Amelia bit her lip, swung her leg over the bike, and squeezed my rib cage hard—so hard that I had a little bit of trouble breathing. But I loved knowing that she was depending on me to both keep her safe and give her the ride of her life. I could have fallen hard for the complete control I had in this spot, but mostly, I just loved that Amelia trusted me.
It was something, I realized, that I didn’t have at Rothenberg. I had professional relationships, but I didn’t develop true connections with anyone. I certainly didn’t have it with Gerald, and I definitely didn’t have it with my peers that I was competing with.
Maybe that’s why I wanted to quit my job. The Savage Saints might have mocked me endlessly and teased me for being too rich for their blood, but their teasing came out of forming bonds with me. I had a chance to develop real friendships with those guys.
At Rothenberg, there weren’t any real “-ships” of any kind. It was just a place where green mattered most.
“Ready!” I shouted.
Amelia squeezed extra tight. I closed my eyes for a second.
And in that second, I knew the answer to my future.
“Let’s go!”
Amelia screamed as I accelerated the bike. I admittedly sped up a little faster than I normally would have, but it wasn’t like I went from zero to sixty. I just hit thirty and stayed there. Amelia’s arms felt like a straitjacket on my chest, but it was the kind that I would wear every day if I could. I tried to talk to her, but she kept screaming and burying her head into my back. At some point, I gave up and laughed at the sensation.
I drove her up and down Manhattan, taking her past Central Park, up to Harlem, and back. We went around Wall Street, but I took care not to actually go through it, worried about coworkers seeing her. I didn’t care if they saw me, because I’d already made up my mind in that regard.
As the sun descended, Amelia slowly gained more comfort. Her arms never left my chest, but her screams turned into laughter. Her terror turned into excitement. She even—I may have been imagining this, but I was pretty sure I heard it—started to emit some quiet moans of pleasure. It sounded like she was trying to make it so I wouldn’t hear, but it was pretty clear what kind of sounds she was making.
The motorcycle really is a vessel of getting a woman off.
“Parking in Manhattan is going to be a bit of a bitch,” I said. “But if you trust me, I can take you out east.”
“Let’s do it!” she shouted. “I love this!”
Now that was an Amelia I had not seen before—an Amelia who screamed and shouted with joy. This Amelia was unbridled and unfiltered, but in the best sense of the word. She wasn’t having to ream someone for failing to do their job. She wasn’t having to express her frustration with her peers. She was just...happy.
I didn’t want to think of how long it had been for her since she had such a feeling. I also didn’t want to think of how much time would pass before she had that feeling again in the future.
Hopefully, the answer to both was not that long. But at the very least, I could make sure that was the permanent answer to the second question.
I drove her up through Long Island, taking her until the bright lights of Manhattan were but a distant glow and the predominant sound was now just quiet neighborhoods and the occasional car passing by. I pulled off at the first beach that I knew of, parked the bike, and let her get off. When she did, she appeared to spend several seconds trying to let the vibrations wear off.
“That’ll be there for a while,” I said. “You get used to it.”
“It feels so...good,” Amelia said. “Is that weird to admit?”
“Not at all. I tell some people it’s like getting a massage. A different kind of massage, and not everyone likes it, but if you do, yeah, it feels pretty good.”
Amelia smiled. I put my arm around her and walked her to the edge of the beach. It was a calm, clear night. A half-moon reflected on the surface, brightening the beach. The waves were at low tide at the moment, allowing Amelia and I to go pretty deep out before the water started to tickle our feet and ankles.
“Nice to get away some, huh?”
“For a bit,” Amelia said.
Man, she can’t even unwind when she’s in Long Island. She needs a break.
I moved my hands to her back and started to massage her. She leaned back into me, practically collapsing into my arms.
“My God,” she said.
Her traps were so tense, I didn’t know if they could get any tighter. It felt less like massaging muscles and more like massaging an iron bar.
“You definitely need a vacation.”
Amelia took a deep breath in through her nose, let it exhale out of her mouth, and repeated the process.
“I know.”
So she does realize it.
“But I can’t quit. I just can’t.”
“No one’s saying to quit, I’m saying—”
“The two are the same to me,” she said. “I don’t mean quit like quit the job. That’s even worse. To me, taking time off is quitting. It’s acknowledging that I’m not good enough for the job. It’s a softer kind of quit.”
Oh, no.
Hearing Amelia didn’t make me think that she was a tough cookie. It made me even more convinced than ever that she was effectively brainwashed while working at Rothenberg Banking. To take vacation time meant she as a quitter?
If that were the case, then I was about to be the quitter of quitters.
“You say that as if your life is your job.”
“It is,” she said, seeming to find nothing wrong with that statement.
“But—”
“When you’ve had the childhood I had,” she said, “you realize you have no choice.”
She placed her hand on mine and turned to me. She did not let go, ev
en as our hands dropped to the side.
“My parents have always expected nothing less than perfection from me. When I played softball as a kid, if I had four hits in five at-bats, they’d go over the one time I struck out. If I came home with six A’s and an A-minus, they’d ask me about the A-minus. Getting into Princeton wasn’t an accomplishment; it was expected. This is just a continuation of that process. It’s where I’m comfortable, Fitz.”
“Comfortable?” I said. “Did you see yourself yesterday? You were crying in the elevator.”
Amelia lowered her eyes from me. I didn’t call her out on it, but I didn’t need to ask her why she had done that.
“I don’t know what happened in Shanghai, but I do know this. You keep working like this, and you’re going to collapse. You have a reputation unlike anyone else at Rothenberg, and while in some ways, that’s good, in others…”
“I know, I know,” she said, her voice a little shaky. “But I don’t know what else I’d be if I didn’t have this job.”
“Hey,” I said, squeezing her hand.
She looked up at me. Her eyes were watering. It hurt me to see her like this, but I knew we needed a talk like this if she was ever going to help herself.
“No one’s worth is tied to the worth of their work,” I said. “I know, I know, that sounds like some silly Instagram post. But how do you think I stay sane at work? I recognize that I have a life outside of it, and I try and maximize it.”
And, when the time comes, I make a certain decision.
“You should take some time off, join a volunteer organization, just do something. Something that you know, one hundred percent, will not get you a promotion, will not get you more money, will not make you look good in the eyes of Ben.”
“But my parents—”
“Is this what this is about?” I said.
It came across much more as an accusation than I meant it to. Amelia bit her lip.
“I know you’re right,” she said, brushing her hair. “I am scared to do it, I guess. Scared to defy my parents. Scared to feel like I threw away all these years—”
“Good news: you didn’t,” I said. “I don’t think you need to quit Rothenberg by any means if you don’t want to. You’re fucking good at your job, Amelia. I’m just saying, recognize you have a life outside of this.”
Amelia dabbed away a single tear from her eye. Her hands went to my hips as she looked up at me. A sinking feeling came over me.
“You know, I always knew that you were good at being calm and chill,” she said. “But I didn’t know how sweet and kind you were. And you know, that makes you very attractive.”
I laughed and tried to find the right response.
But just before I could say something stupid, I realized something. I realized what the best response was.
No words. Just action.
I put my hands on her cheeks slowly, admiring her beautiful face and eyes. I leaned forward, in no rush to increase the speed or intensity of this moment. Just inches from her face, I closed my eyes.
I kissed her.
And suddenly, out of nowhere, she pulled back.
“What are we doing?” she said with a laugh. “We’re coworkers! This is...this is...oh, fuck it.”
She threw her hands around me, now not just kissing me but aggressively making out with me.
And suddenly, as we tumbled to the beach, we were soon about to be doing a whole lot more than just kissing.
Chapter 10: Amelia
Relaxation felt great but throwing caution to the wind felt even better.
It helped that I was horny as hell from that bike ride. It had escaped in the form of emotion, but as soon as Fitz had kissed me, it transformed back into arousal. Fitz said something about if I was sure if I wanted to do this here, but I couldn’t have cared less.
We were far removed from anyone who would have worked at Rothenberg Banking. And on top of that, it was a Tuesday night, not a Saturday night. If someone from my company were here, then there were many ways to plausibly deny what had happened.
And frankly, I was needing stress relief so badly that even if fucking Ben or the CEO showed up, I would have just given them the middle finger and kept fucking Fitz until I orgasmed. I needed this. I fucking needed this badly.
Seconds after we’d fallen to the sand, we had both of our shirts off. Fitz tried to kiss me, but I pushed him back down. I unclipped my bra from behind and let it fall to the sand.
“Holy shit,” he said, in shock at the aggressiveness I was displaying.
“Careful what you wish for,” I said with a smirk.
I ground on his hips for a few moments, feeling his cock hardening in his jeans. I reached down and felt the outline of it, getting aroused just thinking of that member inside of me. So long. It’s been so goddamn long.
And now, something very big and hard is going to be inside of me. About damn time.
I leaned forward and kissed him, but it was more like my tongue attacking his. He reached around and dug his hands down my jeans, caressing my ass. It wasn’t enough for me.
“Slap my ass,” I demanded.
He did. It wasn’t as hard as I was hoping for.
“Come on, Fitz! Take me!”
He slapped me hard. I felt it through my jeans. Now that was more like it. That was more what I was hoping for!
I smiled as I started a trail of kisses on his lips and then down to his ears.
“You got me like this,” I said, breathing hot air all over his ears. “And you’re not going to stop until you get me to come. You understand? You got me. Now you’re going to have to finish me...after I have you for a bit.”
Fitz said something incomprehensible. I relished how much of a stammering idiot he was becoming. I had control over him and could do whatever I wanted.
And we were doing it on a beach in Long Island! What more could I ask for?
I moved my kisses down to his neck, which quickly turned into aggressive biting. So much so, in fact, that Fitz asked me to go a little bit easier. I giggled as I worked my way down to his collarbone, still biting, just at slightly less intensity.
I did the same to his chest, his abs, and then his groin area. I reached down and hungrily ripped off his belt, pulling on it and then yanking his jeans and boxers down just enough to see the goodies. I didn’t bother to get everything off all the way—Fitz could take care of that.
“Mmm,” I said as I rolled my hips over his balls, stroking his cock with my hands. “It’s so big, Fitz. This is going to feel so fucking good.”
“Yeah?” he said, incapable of forming sentences any more complex than that.
I didn’t answer him, instead pushing my legs back and coming down to his cock’s level. I started by licking my tongue from the base of his shaft up to the tip very, very slowly, delighting in his quivering. Once I got there, I wrapped my lips around it, took him in my mouth, and moved up and down him, my hands moving in sync with my mouth.
Fitz continued to speak some incoherent rambles about how good it felt, which only encouraged me to go more and more. He tried to ask me if he could put it inside of me, but I refused to allow him to do that. It occurred to me at some point that the real joy here wasn’t the sexual pleasure, especially since he was getting all of it.
It was the fact that I was getting to boss a man around and be in complete control of him. I had people who reported to me, but for the most part, I felt like an employee, not a woman in power. Here, though, with Fitz in my hand and in my mouth, I could do whatever I wanted to him. If I wanted him to come, I could have him shooting into my mouth in a matter of seconds. If I wanted to toy with him and stretch it out a little longer, I could do that. If I wanted to be mean—not that I did, but if I wanted to—I had many means with which to strike back.
This feeling of control was something that didn’t come around frequently enough for me, and I was relishing the chance to do it. The fact that it was taking place on a public beach in a public setting just made
it that much better. It didn’t matter what the “normal” or “appropriate” thing was. Fuck that—I was doing it my way right now.
“Oh my God, Amelia, please, let me be inside you,” he said, begging. “Please.”
I looked over at him with sultry eyes. I had to admit, feeling him inside me would feel quite good. And there would be a spot at which I would let him. But for now…
“No.”
I liked having the control and the power to say no.
“Oh, fuck,” he said, and half-a-second later, I could feel his cock swell and start to pulse, the early warning that an orgasm was imminent.
I was tempted to tease him and edge him, and then keep this process going, but just because Fitz was going to come here didn’t mean that we were done. Oh, no, far from it. We just weren’t going to have sex, but that didn’t mean we weren’t going to do a little more.
“Oh, stop, please, stop,” Fitz said. “I want to be in you, Amelia!”
That only encouraged me to go faster. I squeezed a little harder on his cock, pumped a little faster, and slurped with a little more force. Giving up, Fitz threw his head back, put his arm over his mouth, and rapidly breathed as the cum reached his tip.
It shot out suddenly and forcefully, but it didn’t stop me. I was getting so wet from this experience of controlling Fitz’s cock. I went full force with my stroking and sucking. I wanted to drain his balls of every last bit of seed that he had in there. Every. Last. Bit.
I did not stop when Fitz asked me to stop, much to his tortured delight. Only when I had felt that I could not suck anything more out of him did I come to a stop. When I did, I came up to him, moved his arm to the side, and kissed him passionately. I then sat up on his chest, placing my hands on him.
“Now,” I said. “You’re going to do the same to me. You’re not going to get inside of me, but you are going to make me come. Do you understand?”
His eyes were relaxed, and a smile was on his face. It was like asking someone high to do you a favor. But Fitz nodded as if I’d just offered his childhood self a chance to eat all the candy in the world.
