Cake Love: All Things Payne

by Elizabeth Lynx

"Be my guest." He waves his hand at the draw and sits back into his chair, swiveling it around to face me for the show.

  I give him a knowing smile and make a big show of trying to pull the handle, knowing my little wrist trick works every time. He will be amazed that a light tug from me dislodges the sticky drawer. I get ready to flick my wrist and pull ... nothing. I do it again and again. Still nothing. What the hell?

  I am tugging and tugging at it, placing my healed shoe on the desk for leverage and yanking with all my might.

  "I think that's enough, Ms. Drake. You can ..."

  I got the drawer unstuck, but it caused me to lose my balance and fall over right into his lap, face first.

  Chapter 7 - THE Holiday Party ...

  I inhale, deeply. Big mistake. It just makes me moan rather loudly. He smells of spice and the aroma is so nice. His hand comes to rest on my head, slowly inching back until his finger tugs at the black rubber band holding my long red hair in place.

  I raise my head looking up at him and can still feel the heat from his thighs on my cheeks. He reaches for my glasses, removing them from my face and gently placing them on the desk. As his hand returns he lightly brushes his finger across my bottom lip. My tongue darts out giving a flick as it passes by. He sucks air in quickly and when he releases the breath my name accompanies it.

  "Morgana." Henrik moans.

  It is my turn to move my hands. They both creep up his thighs and come to meet at the rock hard center. One hand starts to rub and I look up to see his eyes flutter close as his head falls back. He wants this and gods of THE I want this too.

  My other hand unclasps his pants and then pulls down the zipper. I reach in and tug down his briefs just enough to release the engorged ...

  EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE! EEEEEEE!

  My eyes fly open and I am staring at my ceiling fan. In my bedroom. The loud EEEE sound is blaring from my alarm clock and I reach over to shut it off in an overly aggressive way.

  "I HATE YOU ALARM CLOCK!" I scream to the inanimate object and then throw what is in reach at it to prove my point. A pillow and my Kindle miss the clock completely, but manage to knock everything else off my side table, including a cheap ceramic IKEA lamp that shatters on the floor.

  "Now I hate you even more clock! See what you made me do!"

  It doesn't cry. I think it's immune to my verbal abuse, shrugging it off as "Morgana's usual morning tirades."

  I sit up in bed and stare at the bright red 7:01 on the clock and sigh.

  "I'm sorry. It's not you it's me. I just can't stop dreaming about him. It's so frustrating, ya know? I mean I have barely worked with him and when I do I always manage to embarrass myself in some manner."

  7:02 it says to me. I laugh and shake my head.

  "I know, I know. The lap face plant was just the worst. It's not so much I tripped and fell into his crotch, but that I didn't try to get up right away like a normal person. He had to say my name, 'Ms Drake?' and physically push me away before I snapped back into reality."

  7:03.

  "You're right I do need to get laid or date or something.

  I get up and walk over to unplug the clock, carefully avoiding the broken shards and take it into the bathroom with me as I start the shower. I plug it back into a wall socket before I undress and step into the warm water. Looking through the glass door I see a fogged up blinking red 12:00 starting back at me.

  "I'm worried about today though. They are closing the office early for the holiday party. I know I'm going to see him there. It'll be so awkward. I haven't had to see him since the lap fiasco and since I have worked the last few days in Accounting they keep me so busy I don't have time to socialize with anyone."

  Flashing 12:01.

  "That's a good idea. Make an appearance and then make up an excuse to leave early. You're right about ..."

  "Morgana! I'm your friend right?"

  Sighing, I tilt my head back into the spray to rinse the conditioner from my hair knowing what's coming next.

  "Yes Aria. Of course you're my friend."

  I wipe at the steamed up glass and see wisps of platinum hair surrounding dark brown eyes peaking in. Jumping from fright, I slip but manage to grab onto the railing on the door. My life flashes before my eyes for a moment and I have to say, it looks sad. Mainly it involves my parents, Aria, my grandma and lots of cake.

  "Don't scare me like that, Aria!"

  "Then talk to me or at least a living being. It's pathetic when you fall back on the clock. I'm starting to get jealous of a digital device."

  I shut off the water and open the door; Aria's arm shoves through the crack with my blue towel.

  "Thanks. It's just that I had another dream about him."

  "Then just screw him and get it over with. You haven't gotten laid in how long, Morgana? It's just your subconscious vagina talking. It's whisper screaming, 'Help Me!' and your brain can hear."

  As I move past her to get out of the shower and make my way over to my robe to start my morning process, she finally shakes her head and walks over to the toilet to sit and pee. She knows this fight is useless with me.

  It doesn't take me long to get ready and I'm at the office by eight fifteen. The day flies by when I finally feel a tap on my shoulder, I turn to see him. Mr. Payne is standing there looking down at me, his eyes squinting and face serious. I glance at the clock and notice it's 3:18 p.m. The party started two hours ago.

  His stiff body is swaying in a circle. When Mr. Payne speaks I know something is wrong.

  "I need to speak with you, Ms. Draaaake." He slurs my name. Oh good he's drunk. Can you see how badly this is going to end, because I can?

  "Yes, Mr. Payne?"

  His hand grips my chair and he leans over, placing his other hand on my desk, pinning me in place. Mr. Payne's face is only inches from mine.

  "Call me Henrik." His whiskey soaked breath burns my nostrils and eyes.

  "Yes, Henrik."

  He smirks and glances down at my cleavage a little longer than is appropriate before looking up again. His hand leaves my chair and his fingertip presses right between my eyes.

  "You don't have your glasses on, Morgana."

  "I'm not in the basement this week. My eyes aren't irritated like they were last week."

  He drops his finger and head at the same time as if suffering a mortal wound. After a moment he lifts his head and stares at me with darkened blue eyes.

  "I liked your glasses."

  Blood races throughout my body, finally landing at my core as his voice deepens with his last statement. I visibly shutter causing him to smirk. A few very awkward but arousing seconds pass and he shoots up to standing while giving his hands a good clap.

  "Okay! Off to my office. Come on, Morgana."

  Drunken Mr. Payne turns and races off. I grab my coat and purse, feeling it's better to have my things with me in case I need to flee.

  He catches an elevator before I have a chance to catch up so I get to his office a minute after him. The door is open and I see his suit jacket on the floor in the middle of the room while his red tie is hanging from the coat rack. I place my coat and purse on the rack before moving farther into the room. As I get closer to his desk I see his shoes on it and socks lying in his client chair.

  "Morgana." His voice is low and coming from the side of the room. I turn to see him sprawled on his black leather couch. One arm draped over the back, while the other hangs over the side. His legs are spread eagle and either it's the way the material of his pants are gathering or this man has a semi.

  His head jerks indicating for me to take a seat on the couch next to him. My lips purse and my internal organs go to war. My brain is shaking it's head and telling me to high tail it out of there offering me things I don't like, facts.

  "He's drunk. He's my boss. He's drunk." Shut up, Brain, I know already!

  My vagina is jumping up and down wildly screaming at me: Oh woman this man is HOT. So hot. Did I mention he's gorgeous? Because he's super fine. Pl
us, he seems to be ready for action.

  I stiffly walk over to the end of the couch and sit down. Pushing myself as far from him as possible. I stare straight at the chair with the socks refusing to turn my attention to him.

  "Yes, Mr. Payne, what did you need to see me about?"

  I feel the couch move and hear the soft sliding sound of his body moving. Suddenly I feel the heat of him next to me. His finger starts down my thigh to the hem of my black cashmere dress I wore specifically for the party. It hugs my body perfectly, keeps me warm in the Chicago winter and is office appropriate.

  "You make this dress." He whispers in my ear as his fingers come to the bottom hem and flutter across my thigh.

  Oh. My. Fucking. God. I should stop him. I should really stop him.

  "Mr. Payne, you're drunk." I continue to stare at his dirty sock, knowing if I look at him I won't stop him.

  "Henrik." He whispers.

  I nod, "Yes, Henrik. You have been drinking and I don't think ..."

  "I don't drink, Morgana."

  I turn to look at him. Bad mistake. My nose is only an inch from his. His eyes fall to my mouth and I pull my bottom lip in due to nerves.

  "So, Henrik, you haven't been drinking tonight?"

  "Yes I have, Morgana. Tonight is the exception to the rule. To my rule. Let's not talk about rules."

  "What do you want to talk about?" I regret asking as soon as the words exit my mouth.

  His smirk is back and his head tilts playfully to the side as his hand continues caressing my thigh inching up ever so slightly as time goes by.

  "You. Us. This dress. Your soft skin. Your glasses." He laughs and shakes his head. Henrik is looking at his hand that has now moved just under my dress and is mere inches from my soaking panties.

  I should stop him. I should really stop him. Morgana! Stop him!

  "I dreamed about you in your glasses."

  Nope, not stopping him. I also can't get my mouth to work so I just keep staring at his mouth as he talks. He continues looking at his hand, which is now pushing up the fabric of my dress and I know he can see what color my underwear is now.

  His finger reaches the edge of the black lace as his eyes move up to mine. They are almost black in the low light and the muscles in his face slack from desire.

  His fingers push past the fabric to my wet folds as his eyes close. I whimper from the intrusion.

  "Oh, Morgana. You are so wet for me."

  Chapter 8 - THE Zipper Incident ...

  "These are in the way. I better take care of them."

  Henrik falls to his knees on the floor in front of me. His thumbs hook under the lace fabric of my panties and tug. I lift my bottom off the couch to help him with his task. Leisurely he drags my undies down my legs, over my thigh-high stockings and creates an erotic burn. My Brain is still screaming at me to grab my panties and hobble out of this room like a respectable adult. Memo to Brain: Go Away!

  Once the fabric is loose and in his hand, he balls it up and tucks it into his pants pocket. I really hope I get those back, they weren't cheap. My heart is racing as I watch his fingers smooth over the edge of the stockings. He lowers his head and juts his tongue out creating a small wet trail on the sheer fabric.

  His eyes flick up to mine as his tongue leaves the stocking and lands on the warm skin of my upper thigh. I dreamed of this and various other acts with him, but having it actually happen to me is better than any fantasy I could have thought of. I push my legs open a little farther letting him know how much I want this. I think my Brain is half way to Arizona by now.

  That's when I feel two of his fingers slide inside me. I gasp at the sudden invasion but as much shock as my mind is in my body keeps in the moment, gently gyrating to his touch. As quickly as his fingers plunge inside me, they leave with equal pace. I whimper and see him take his fingers in his mouth and suck.

  "Mmm."

  Lifting his head to show me his enjoyment he removes his fingers placing them back inside me as his thumb starts to circle my clit. Henrik's gaze never leaves mine. I think I am drooling now.

  "You taste better than I dreamed, Morgana. I think I need another taste of your sweet pussy."

  I groan at his words and splay my hands into his dark brown waves helping him with his hunger. His head lowers and the first kisses on my thighs are light, fluttery. After a moment he stops. Just stops everything.

  He doesn't move. I tap his shoulder.

  "Henrik?"

  I hear a deep guttural snore vibrate from between my thighs. What the hell? I start to push at him but he is quite heavy. Finally I manage to squirm out of from under him.

  He fucking passed out! Oh my God!

  I push my dress back down and stand to figure out what to do. He is face down in the cushions of the couch and I know if he throws up he'll suffocate. Crap, I have to move him.

  "Brain? Oh Brain? I need some help here." I whisper to myself. I can sense the glare from my Brain, it's not happy.

  "Oh NOW you want me to help you. I seem to recall telling you not to do this, but NOOO you had to get your groove on." My Brain folds its imaginary squiggly arms at me and huffs.

  "Brain, stop being an ass and just help me!"

  "Hey, don't get me involved." My Butt calls out.

  "Fine, you want my help; get him lying on his side on the couch. That way if he pukes it will fall to the floor. You also might want to stay with him for a while to make sure he doesn't vomit or roll over onto his back."

  I roll my eyes at the task at hand. First I try wrapping my arms around his chest and lift. He doesn't even move an inch. The man must weight like five hundred pounds because I almost broke my back with that move. I may have a bit of muscle on me ... all right it is fat that I pass off as muscle, but Mr. Payne is too much for my five foot six inch, hundred fifty pound frame.

  Standing back and assessing the situation I figure he is already partly on the couch, so if I can just push his bottom half on it, he should be good.

  With all my might and my shoulder, I push Mr. Payne onto the couch and roll him on his side. Stepping away to admire my work I realize how sweet he looks asleep. His brow isn't creased in a constant scowl like normal. Mr. Payne's relaxed face is sexy and cute at the same time.

  A thought pops into my head. A very dirty thought.

  "Don't you even think about that Morgana!" My Brain starts its warning.

  I ignore her and kneel down next to him. Very carefully I unbutton his pants and pull down the zipper. Looking back at Mr. Payne I see he is still sound asleep. There is a thrill that races through me. The excitement of getting caught and of looking at the forbidden.

  My smile grows as I push past his briefs and tug it out. It's thick and still semi hard. My thumb follows the veins to the tip as my fingers play. It's growing in my hand and my eyes take it all in as if this is some new found discovery leading to the cure for cancer.

  Instantly my excitement turns to fear as I hear voices coming from outside. Quickly I shove his member back into his pants and zip him up in haste. Due to my recklessness with his pants and parts, the zipper catches on something. From the way Mr. Payne shoots up off the couch I suspect I know what the zipper caught on.

  "Aaaa! What the fuck!" He screams while fumbling with his fly and staring at it in shock.

  My heart is pounding now and I am whisper screaming in my head for my Brain. All she says to me before I watch her speed off in the Ferrari, "You stupid, bitch!"

  In a panic I jump to my feet and try to help Mr. Payne with his pants. Now he is looking at me like I'm a woman who has conversations with her brain and her clock.

  "Ms. Drake, do you mind!" He yanks himself from my grasp and turns his back to me. In a few moments I see his shoulders relax and hear him sigh. Finally, he turns but isn't looking at me. He is staring at his desk. Mr. Payne walks over and pulls at the top draw. The same drawer that caused my lap face plant fail. He tugs and tugs.

  "Come on you stupid piece of ..." He yells at th
e drawer. See, I'm not the only one who talks to inanimate objects!

  After a few more tugs it opens and he reaches in for a piece of gum, unwrapping it and placing it in his mouth. His eyes close and he breaths out in relief. That must be some awesome gum.

  Finally he looks at me.

  "What on earth just happened?"

  I'm like a deer in headlights. He growls and brings his hand to his face rubbing the stubbled skin in irritation. Suddenly he freezes and bringing his fingers closer to his nose, taking a whiff. Uh, oh!

  His eyes widen and he looks at me in confusion. Lowering his hand he places it in his pocket and his eyes grow bigger if that is even possible. Lifting his arm he pulls out my panties and holds them up in the air.

  "Ms. Drake, what is this?"

  Chapter 9 - THE Payneful Reminder ...

  He is holding my lace panties in his hand staring at me in utter confusion. Mr. Payne doesn't remember a thing. Of course he doesn't he was wasted. While the shock of adrenaline has obviously sobered him up from the zipper incident (I seem to have a lot of sex related incidents in my life.) I feel it isn't enough to trigger his memory.

  "Ms. Drake, answer me. What is this?"

  "Looks like underwear to me, sir."

  He rolls his eyes and points to the chair for me to sit. Mr. Payne walks to his door, shutting it and turns on a few more lights. Looking around the room at his clothing everywhere he has the same confused expression as he did while pulling my undies from his pocket.

  I settle into the chair across from his desk, carefully removing his socks from the seat and handing them back to him as he walks by. He grabs them roughly and shoves them into his pocket. Suddenly he stops just before he turns the corner of his desk to get to his chair. His back is to me and I can't help but wonder what is he thinking.

  After a few moments he moves again and comes to his chair. Placing the panties on the desk, he stares at them while addressing me.

  "Ms. Drake, what happened tonight?" He asks in a low voice full of worry.

  Do I tell him the truth? What if I explain things and he is so mortified he has me transferred to Accounting permanently or another department where I can't enter the Executive Development Program? The only way to enter is to have an Executive recommend me, so working directly with one is imperative. I really should have listened to my Brain this evening.