“Come in, come in!” he said jovially. “Sit down.” He gathered up the papers inside the folder at his side, then leaned forward to put it on top of the other paperwork. When he leaned and stretched, I could see his shirt drawing tight over his shoulderblades. The way his biceps tightened and strained the cotton that covered them made me feel fluttery in my stomach. I left the door slightly ajar and started forward, but he stopped me with a lifted hand, his eyes bright and somehow mischievous as he gestured towards it. “Close the door, huh?”
I closed the door. My knees felt weak as I moved into his big office, and when I sat down on his couch I felt the leather creak under the smooth, snug material of my skirt. For a few seconds, there were no other sounds than the whisper of cloth-on-leather and our breathing, but I finally worked up enough spit in my mouth to manage a somewhat meek-sounding “Hi.”
“Hey,” Allen responded, shifting a little on the couch so he was facing me more directly. I crossed my legs towards him and shifted as well, creating a little ‘v’ between our thighs so our knees almost touched. It was tough to meet his eyes, but I finally did, and when I did he was smiling that devastatingly handsome smile. “So I guess you’re wondering why I wanted to talk to you.”
“Yeah.” I answered, immediately regretting my casual, unprofessional response. “Yes.” I corrected. “Is everything ok? I know you wanted the files from the Roberts vs. Anderson case but Ann said…”
His hand lifted then, and he pressed two fingers ever-so-lightly against my lips. The urge to kiss them was almost overpowering, but I fought it back and simply went silent. Keeping my eyes on his, I took a deep breath and waited, my heart probably audibly pounding in my chest as I waited for him to say something. He left me waiting for a few seconds, then finally leaned in and spoke, removing his fingers only when his lips were an inch from my own.
“Angela,” he said, his breath washing my chin. “You know I didn’t call you in here to talk about case files.” He scooted a tiny bit closer, his nearest arm stretching up and around to rest on the back of the couch. I could feel it there, even though it wasn’t touching me yet. “You dressed up, right?”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. Words weren’t really coming to me, and I was a little bit overwhelmed. What had I gotten myself into, here? Allen had to be in his forties. He spent hours in the gym. He was strong, smart, successful. I was a totally inexperienced nineteen-year-old virgin with no idea what to do with a man at all – much less a man like this! My breathing was starting to get uneven, and I felt myself starting to panic. Allen must have recognized my nerves as well, because he leaned away from me and let his arm come down in a companionable, comforting half-hug across my shoulders. At first, I stiffened up… but then I melted into it. Even that little bit of contact felt amazing - so strong, so self-assured, so perfect. Before I knew it, I was scooting in closer to the crook of his embrace and letting my hip touch his. He didn’t flinch from me at all, and simply drew me in closer. Turning his head, he spoke against the side of my skull. His breath was warm.
“It’s alright, Angel. Don’t be nervous. I won’t hurt you.” I could feel him smile, there – and I smiled a little bit, too. We sat there in comfortable quiet for a few more moments, then Allen spoke again, this time letting his lips kiss my temple. “Come over to my house for dinner tonight.” That voice, low and self-assured, said exactly what I wanted to hear. I squirmed a little bit, and he laughed and gave me another one-armed squeeze. His other hand came around to brush lightly across my thigh, and he let it hover just below the hem of my skirt. “I’m a pretty good cook.” His thumb brushed up a little, nudging beneath the skirt’s material so he stroked my stockinged skin directly. “Then we’ll hang out, watch a movie…” He nuzzled his nose in against my cheek, then added directly against the corner of my mouth, “…get to know each other better.”
There it was. He knew what I wanted. And better yet – he wanted it too! I wasn’t even sure what to say because I just knew I’d sound like a gushing little girl – so I just nodded quickly and turned to abruptly press a feather-quick kiss against his jaw. He seemed pleasantly surprised, and smiled at me as he got to his feet and extended one hand. “C’mon.” he said, taking my fingers in his and gently tugging me upwards. I found my feet easily enough, and found myself pressed against his rock-solid form once more, this time with my breasts pressed into his chest and my mouth inches from his divine-smelling neck. It was all I could do not to just climb him and wrap my legs around his waist – but I managed to hold back and instead took a step back and smiled up at him. “I’ll get back to work,” I said, finally gathering my wits enough to be mostly functional. “Email me your address?” He nodded, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Will do, Angela.” He stepped away from me and headed towards his desk, where he immediately sat down and started to type. I hoped it was to me. I went back to my desk then, where I sat down heavily in my chair and fought the urge to sit there grinning like an idiot until quitting time.
His Arms
When I got back to my desk, I had an email from Allen. It had his address, 8pm, and “delete this immediately”, and that was all. I texted the info to myself and did as I was told. The rest of the day is a haze. I don’t really remember anything I did other than wait for 5pm, and the trip home from work was just about the longest commute of my life. Upon arriving home, I showered and re-did my makeup and dug around in my closet for something appropriate for a rendezvous with an affluent forty-something super-hot stud of a lawyer. Unfortunately, I came up with almost nothing. After some last-minute panicking and freaking out, I finally settled on a pink a-line dress, white panties and lacy bra, and cute pink-and-white Mary Jane pumps. It felt right, dressing so adorably. I knew he had to get off a little bit on having a nineteen year old come to his house, and I hoped when he realized he was with a virgin, it would add another layer of sexiness. I was nervous, but I was ready. This was it. I was going to have sex with someone who knew what he was doing… and I was thrilled.
He lived in one of the more affluent neighborhoods, as expected. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a massive McMansion, but instead an older, one-story bungalow of sorts. Set back from the road behind a sprawling manicured lawn, it was a subtle reflection of his economic standing without being ostentatious. Parked in the driveway was one car – a silver BMW 5-series. I’d never even thought to consider if Allen might be married or otherwise involved, and that suddenly hit me when I pulled my Honda to a stop behind his much fancier vehicle. For a moment, I was frozen in fear that I was the ‘other woman’ or something. After a few moments, I pulled myself together. He probably would have suggested a hotel or something if he were cheating – not given me his address and invited me over to his house. After a quick makeup check in the rear-view mirror, I stepped out of my car and headed up onto the porch of the warmly-lit, cozy home and rang the doorbell.
The chime from inside was distant. I smoothed my rather short skirt and ran a hand through my hair when I heard footsteps, and when Allen swung the door inwards, I put on my biggest, brightest, most mature smile. Unfortunately for me, it got frozen awkwardly there for a moment, because the sight that greeted me was just entirely too sexy. Instead of his work attire of suit pants and a dress shirt and tie, Allen was wearing rumpled beige cargo pants, a black “Metallica” tee shirt, and socks. His usually carefully gelled and slicked hair was rumpled so it stuck up a little bit here and there, and he was holding a towel in one hand, like he’d just stepped out of the shower. When he smiled, a dimple imprinted his cheek and sexy, subtle laugh-lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes. He took me in with unabashed appreciation, his gaze sweeping me from head to toe and back up again with slow, hungry interest. After a long moment of quiet staring, he reached out and gripped my right hand, pulling me in and pushing the door shut behind me in one fluid motion.
“You look fantastic,” he said, pulling me into a hug and squeezing me against his strong, shower-fresh, tight-cotton-covered chest. My left hand got
pinned slightly into the embrace, but I just let it spread across his stomach, where I felt the subtle ridges of strong, gym-defined abdominal muscles. My brain could only think one thing… jackpot.
I wasn’t in any hurry to be released from his powerful arms, but I found him disengaging from the embrace far too soon. I wasn’t left bereft of his touch, though – his left hand found my right one with ease, and I was led past the foyer and through a cozy living room towards the kitchen. It was a big, open space with gleaming stainless appliances and marble countertops, and I could smell garlic and tomatoes. There was a colander in the sink and something boiling on the stove.
“I made pasta…” he offered, pulling out a stool at the center island and guiding me towards it. “I hope you like Italian.” I nodded absently, really not caring what we ate. I wasn’t here for dinner – I was here for the ‘getting to know one another better’ part. He seemed intent on feeding me, though. After moving around the other side of the counter, he took out two wine glasses and poured one full of red… then started to pour the other one before hesitating. Looking up at me, he smiled a bit devilishly and let three drops of the purple liquid splash into the bowl of the stemware. “You’re underage, and I’m contributing to the delinquency of a minor, I hope you know.” I bit my lower lip, then shrugged and nodded.
“Yeah,” I answered, hopefully flippantly enough to be cute. “Looks that way.”
Allen grinned and poured me a glass of wine, then pushed it in front of me before taking his own and swallowing half the contents. “I like contributing to your delinquency.” He said, turning away from me so he could stir the pasta just before it boiled over. This gave me a fantastic view of his back and ass – which were both on perfectly delightful display in his well-worn, slightly snug pants and his delectably soft, stretched tee shirt. I felt my hands itching to touch him – to feel that heat and strength under the soft give of cotton. I fidgeted, feeling a tremble in my stomach and a little twitch of arousal in my pussy. I’d never felt this physically aroused with a man before – and it was thrilling. Scary… but thrilling. Squirming in my seat, I picked up my own glass and took three big swallows. The wine was dry and slightly tart… not my favorite… but I was happy to have something to hopefully take the edge off my ever-intensifying nerves.
Soon enough, the pasta was finished. Allen drained and rinsed it, put it in a serving bowl, and added thick, rich meat sauce. Picking up the bowl, he gestured towards another bowl of salad, and a decanter of vinaigrette. “Grab that, huh?” I did as I was told, then followed him out of the kitchen and back into the living room, where he had placed another bottle of wine, two more glasses, and two place settings on a low coffee table. The table was tugged out from the couch enough that we could sit comfortably on the floor behind it. “Kick off your shoes, huh?” he asked, reaching out and taking my salad bowl and dressing from me. I was a little taken by surprise, but did as I was asked, bending down to unbuckle one and pull it free before doing the same with the other one. When I straightened up with them clutched in one hand, I caught Allen staring. His mouth was slightly parted, and his eyes were dark with evident desire. I felt another little surge of arousal knot in my stomach, but managed to smile casually and pad across his thick carpet towards the places he’d set.
He intercepted me before I could get there, pressing his body in close against mine and wrapping his arms around my torso. Without my heels, I was at least eight inches shorter, and my nose nudged his shoulder as I felt myself drawn in tight. His hands roamed across my lower back, fingers splaying and tugging upwards on my skirt without hesitation. I wasn’t sure what to do with my own hands, at first, so I let them sort of flutter near his shoulders before finally taking gentle purchase across his traps. The strength there was evident – the muscle knotted with anticipation and power. A shiver worked its way down my spine, and I felt my breath catch when his arms tightened further and his hands slipped below the hem of my skirt. I hadn’t worn stockings – and the material of my panties was practically transparent silky mesh. Allen groaned lightly against the side of my head when his fingers splayed on my ass and squeezed. “Fuuuuck…” he murmured, turning to press a lingering kiss into my hair. “You feel amazing.”
Despite my lack of experience, I felt my instincts kicking in. My hands – light against his shoulders, opened up and spread wide to envelop as much of that muscle as they could. I let my palms graze out and down, over his deltoids and down over his bare biceps. He was rock-hard, all sinew and strength under hot, skin. His hands continued to knead my ass. He squeezed, spread the cheeks apart, gripped lower and lower until he was clutching two full handsful of my flesh. His fingertips grazed my inner crevices, but my panties protected me from his direct attention. For a moment, I hated that I’d even worn them – I wanted him to touch me, to feel how wet I was, how much I wanted him. My pussy felt swollen and hot, and my own muscles twitched with anticipation as his fingers strayed closer to my damp slit.
Before I could say or do anything more, I felt myself being lifted. He effortlessly took me right off my feet, and with a little hitch of his shoulders, I was brought up so my legs could wrap around his hips. I did so – there was nothing else I wanted more in that moment than that, really – and my arms reached up to wrap around his neck, hands straying upwards to take a grip on his skull. His hair was still slightly damp from his shower, and I could feel a little shudder work into his back when my nails grazed his scalp. Allen murmured again, and his face pressed into the crook of my neck and shoulder. Open-mouthed, wet, hungry kisses devoured my throat, and his faint whiskers abraded my skin. I knew I’d be ruddied and splotched, but I didn’t care. My head fell aside, eyes closing, and I reveled in his kisses and the way his body was so strong and hot between my legs… against my chest and stomach. We stayed like that for several moments – him standing in the middle of his living room with me wrapped around him like a koala. Soft whimpers and harsh breaths were the only sounds for what seemed like forever.
Take It
I was so wet. I could feel my panties sticking to me, and his fingers managed to shove them aside at some point. He didn’t push them inside me – but I squirmed and ground myself against his touch in every possible way as I tried to encourage just that. Allen didn’t comply, but continued to tease me and growl and kiss into my neck. Finally, I felt him moving towards the couch. His steps were slow and heavy. He stopped.
I felt the world drop out from under me for a split second. Before I could fully register what had happened, I felt the buttery softness of his sofa envelop my body. I was tumbled rather gracelessly into the cushions, but didn’t have a chance to even try and gather my senses before he was on top of me. One hand shoved my skirt upwards, and the other clutched the side of my hair, taking a handful of the carefully curled tresses and pulling just hard enough to make me whine. His mouth was on mine immediately, his tongue tangling with my own. He tasted like peppermint. I breathed in deeply and ecstatically, my own hands reaching up to once more grip his shoulders… and I hardly even noticed when he took hold of my flimsy panties and gave one solid, jarring yank.
The delicate undergarment snapped against my hip, and I’d find a little bruise and abrasion there tomorrow… but in the moment it was a mere hiccup in the miasma of heat. I felt his hand on my knee, then… pushing it up and wider so he could press in against me. He still had his pants on, and I tried to reach down and unfasten his belt… but he gripped my wrist and murmured ‘not yet’ against my mouth. All I could manage in response was a little ‘uhhhh’ sound. It was all so much… so fast. I wanted it, I knew I did… but he moved with such surety and desirous intent that I couldn’t keep up.
Allen pulled back from my mouth, tugging my head back so I was forced to look into his eyes. I was nervous… so nervous… and my breath was coming in quick hiccups and hitches as I fought to gain some semblance of control. His handsome face was mere inches from my own, and I could still taste his tongue as he spoke in low, hungry tone
s. “Am I your first?” he asked, pulling again at my hair but reaching up with his free hand to gently stroke my kiss-reddened cheek.
I answered before I even thought. “Yes.” Immediately, I wondered if I should have lied, or tried to delay the answer. What if he didn’t want to waste his time on a virgin? All these concerns flooded me in a heartbeat, and I felt heat flush up into my cheeks as I braced for his rejection.
It never came. Instead, he smiled softly and relaxed his grip on my hair. Cradling my skull, he pulled me in softly. Another kiss – this one gentle and genuinely affectionate – was placed against my lower lip. He sucked that plush bud of flesh into his mouth and grazed it with his tonguetip, then deepened the contact and let me taste him once again. “Good,” he murmured, his word resonating against my own breaths.
I was a wreck. My heart was pounding, my breathing was almost hyperventilating. Allen slipped away enough to unbuckle his belt and undo his pants, and after stepping free of them, he peeled his shirt off in a single fluid motion. His body was incredible. It wasn’t the body of a boy – but it was the rough-hewn, strong body of a man. His muscles were defined and bulging in all the right places, and there was a masculine scruff of hair across his chest. Instead of skinny frat-boy physique, he had a raw, manly, hard-effort-wrought build. The line from his chest to his waist was ever-so-tapered, and his hips were lean. Big muscles in his legs flexed as he stood there above me, and his grin was sly as he watched me react to his nudity.
I loved everything I saw. Everything. I found myself pointedly avoiding the one thing I wanted the most, though – and after a long moment of silent, breathless appreciation I let my gaze finally land on it. Allen simply stood there on display, obviously proud of what he had to offer but willing to let me take it in at my own pace.
Spanked: Spanking Romance - Adult Bedtime Story Anthology of Punishment, Discipline & Submission Romance Page 4
