by Blaise Quin
Would Nathan Chase approach me again in the coffee shop, making me follow him out in front of everyone? Would he loudly tell me what he was going to do to me? I had no idea what I was in for.
And that was part of the excitement.
My fingers twitching with anticipation, I opened the door.
The coffee shop was busy. I didn’t see Nathan Chase, but of course he wouldn’t be early. There were no seats available, but a woman saw me looking around and removed her bag from the other seat at her small table and offered it up. I smiled my thanks and sat down. She was typing on a laptop and drinking a latte.
I crossed my legs, the cold from the steel seat meeting my hot bare thigh. My thigh won.
Men were glancing at me out of the corner of their eye. A few stared openly. I sat quietly, hiding my inner anticipation. The clock on the wall read 7:58.
What would happen if one of those men hit on me, and Nathan Chase came in and saw it? What would he do?
That would be fun to watch. More than fun, thrilling.
On the dot of eight the door opened. A tall muscular man stood there, crew cut, square jaw, serious expression. I immediately got the impression he was military. Undoubtedly handsome. His eyes settled on me immediately.
Without hesitation he crossed the room to me. I held my breath, wondering if he was going to make a move. My eyes darted to the door. Where was Nathan Chase?
“Mr. Chase sent me for you,” he said.
His voice was flat, but I caught an undercurrent of delight. Like he enjoyed his errand.
Or he had liked what he had seen.
The woman who had offered me the seat had looked up from her computer and was staring at him in what could only be described as bliss.
I uncrossed my legs and got up, forcing myself to not rush my walk across the room. Feeling all the eyes on me only heightened my expectations and my desire.
At that moment I wouldn’t have resisted if this big man had held me down so that Nathan Chase could fuck me in front of all these people.
Just as I pushed at the door, the man reached past me to hold it open. Our fingers briefly touched. He quickly pulled his hand away. Maybe he didn’t want to touch Nathan Chase’s property. Or maybe he wasn’t quite as masculine as he looked.
A sleek black limousine sat double parked outside the coffee shop. The man opened the back door for me, a cave of darkness in the bright sunshine.
I ducked to get in, noticing that the man was very careful to not touch me as he closed the door.
Nathan Chase sat in the plush backseat. He was in a shirt and tie but no jacket, reading a sheaf of papers. He did not look up at me, yet his aura filled the entire limo, as if his personal space extended out into the car.
I hesitated, half in and half out. One leg in the car, my ass pointed at the driver.
“Over there,” said Nathan Chase, jerking his hand at the backward facing seat.
I got in the limo. The privacy screen was up, but a muted thud told me that the driver was behind the wheel. The limo moved off with a smooth understatement.
Nathan Chase made me wait. Whether he did this in a desire to keep me in suspense, or whether he simply considered whatever he was reading more important than I was, the result was the same. The hairs stood up on my arms, my shoulders tensed in expectation. I crossed my legs to hide my trepidation, acutely aware of my foot, which dangled inches from his.
With another man I might have let my shoe drop off, and run the arch of my foot along his calf. I didn’t dare do that to Nathan Chase.
The limo purred beneath me, full of power. I had once masturbated on a clothes dryer, the heat and vibration decadent but a poor excuse for a man. The limo felt like a five hundred horsepower vibrator.
My ass was still sore from the punishment Nathan Chase had given me. Was that what was in store today? Would he spank me on this very seat?
I squirmed, slinking into the leather.
Finally he looked up at me. He started with my face, my eyes, his gaze slowly dropping, yet not in any way that could ever be confused with shyness or weakness. Rather, he was evaluating me.
His eyes did not linger on my chest, and once again I wondered if he preferred much larger breasts. I’d bet that many women would have had implants just to please him, such was his control.
His gazed settled on my legs. I fought the urge to move, to make them more appealing.
Finally he gave a little nod. “Acceptable.”
And immediately went back to his reading.
The limo moved beneath me, a sensuous tease.
The waiting was killing me, and yet, right now, I lived for it. It was so in character for Nathan Chase.
As were his next words. “We don’t have much time. Get on your knees.”
I was so ready I would have done anything he asked at that point. As I’m sure he realized.
I slid to the floor between his legs. Once again I was on my knees before Nathan Chase.
“Careful with the zipper,” he warned. He was still reading the papers.
Any other man who treated me this way, who treated any woman this way, I would have thought to be an asshole. So haughty. So condescending. For Nathan Chase, it was merely his persona.
His very enticing, irresistible, powerful persona.
He wanted me to prove I could be more interesting to him than some fucking words on a page.
I unzipped his pants. I was delighted, yet not really surprised, to see he was already hard.
Nathan Chase enjoyed his role just as much as I enjoyed mine.
He hadn’t told me to take off his pants, so I didn’t. Briefly I wondered if he was going to come on me again, on my face, on my very expensive dress. What would he do if some of his cum landed on his own pants?
No doubt he’d be very angry.
His cock stuck up high. I wrapped my hand around the shaft, protecting it from the zipper. The head was thick and red, like it had recently been rubbed. I didn’t for a minute believe Nathan Chase had masturbated on the way here.
More likely he’d had another woman suck him off. Or maybe he’d fucked her.
It suddenly occurred to me that I had no idea if he was married. He didn’t wear a ring, but that meant little. If he was married, did his wife know about his hook ups?
Was the reason he hadn’t fucked me because that was the line he drew? He only fucked his wife?
My own ring was inches from my face. My wedding ring. So much was represented by that thin sliver of metal. Normally a promise of monogamy, but in my case, it went beyond that. My ring was an indication of trust, of love. A love and trust so great that my husband would not only want me to be satisfied in every possible way, but he would want to be part of it.
How many other married couples could say that?
My eyes wide open and firmly on my ring, I took Nathan Chase’s cock in my mouth.
At that point most men groaned, or shifted their hips to meet my mouth, or gave off one of a dozen indications that any woman who’d been in this position recognized immediately. Yet Nathan Chase said nothing, did nothing. Nothing except keep reading.
Which only made me work harder at pleasing him.
I would always wonder how many men through the years had begged for women to sleep with them, to suck on them, to just touch them. If only they had known that with many women, the best way to get them was to ignore them.
Nathan Chase had mastered the art of ignoring a woman. Even one with her teeth a hair’s breath from his very sensitive manhood.
I was dressed like an uptown charity ball hostess, not a slut hooker, so that’s how I sucked him. Not with the wild abandon I had in the hotel room, but with elegance and grace, matching my outfit. I slithered my tongue along his shaft, easing it past the sharp zipper until I touched his balls. I planted tiny kisses on the head, fighting my own desire to get him off as fast as possible. I blew a gentle wave of hot breath into his fly. With my lips ever so parted, I dragged my mouth up and down his sh
aft, sucking gently.
My hand moved ever so slightly, not quite jerking him off, more a steady building rhythm of preparation.
He still hadn’t said a word.
With his cock in my mouth I looked up, expecting to see him enjoying seeing my face and what I was doing. All I saw was the back of the papers still in his hand.
And yet. . .his fingers betrayed a tiny movement. A hint of a quiver that had nothing to do with the movement of the limo. I smiled around his cock, my tongue slipping around his glans. My hand moved ever so slightly faster over his shaft.
With my eyes still on his hands, I withdrew my mouth. I was rewarded with the sight of his strong fingers tightening their grip on the papers. Before he could chastise me, I pulled down the skin along his shaft. The head of his cock bulged, his slit opening up.
I probed the small opening with my tongue. For not the first time in my life, I wished I could reach deeper. Was this what a man felt like when he put his tongue in a woman?
Over and over again I swirled my tongue around the head of Nathan Chase’s cock, returning to the slit, the opening where his seed would shoot from. His knees spread even as his thighs pressed against my head.
He still had the papers in his hand, but he wasn’t ignoring me any longer.
I couldn’t ignore my own wetness either. I longed to slip my fingers under my dress, yet I didn’t dare, and he made no move to lift me up or bend me over.
My purse was on the seat, nothing inside but two condoms. It had felt so wicked carrying it around.
I was sure the limo had its own supply. Unless, of course, Nathan Chase didn’t fuck.
What would I do if he lifted me up right now and sat me on his lap? Would I insist on the condom? I wanted to think I would, it would have been the right thing to do. And yet I’d fantasized about Nathan Chase’s thick, powerful jets not landing on my face or ass, but shooting into my pussy.
My thoughts made me lose control, and I moaned. The cock in my mouth swelled, his hands shaking visibly now, the papers rattling.
I waited for the command to pull back, to wait open mouthed for him to come on my face.
Instead the papers flew to the floor. Nathan Chase’s hand went to the door, smacking the window button the way he had smacked my ass. The traffic noises were an assault on the stillness of the limo, yet still could not overcome my moans and now, wonderfully, Nathan Chase’s own pleased guttural reaction to my blowjob.
He reached over my back and pulled my dress up, exposing my ass. I was wearing a skimpy pair of lace panties, my hidden accommodation to my inner slut beneath my elegant outfit.
Nathan Chase swore, wrapped his hands in the lace, and yanked. The flimsy fabric tore like tissue under the strength of his annoyance.
His sudden response made me redouble my efforts on his cock. Still fighting my urges to suck him hard, my hand flew up and down his shaft, my tongue spinning around the head like a top.
He grabbed my ass and jerked me around, my bare knees scraping painfully on the carpet. He pulled me half up onto the seat, sideways, my ass now sticking up and facing the open window.
Visible to the world.
His fingers dug into the cheek of my ass, rough, hard, pulling me open, exposing me totally. I fought to keep my mouth on his cock as I was thrown about. The limo sped up, as if spurred on by Nathan Chase’s need.
His cock bulged in my mouth. He was so close. . .
A horn honked. At traffic? Or at the sight of my exposed ass, bent over, leaving nothing to the imagination. There was only one thing a woman in this position could be doing.
I swear if the limo had stopped and some stranger had fingered me while I was sucking on Nathan Chase, I would have welcomed the relief.
Instead, my aching pussy was left alone, puckering in the cold air.
Nathan Chase surprised me again.
Instead of pushing my head away, his fingers dug painfully into my ass and he grunted. A spurt of cum so hot it burned shot against the roof of my mouth. Again and again he let loose, filling my mouth completely, more cum than I’d ever taken, the pride of getting him this excited welling up in me to match the welling up of his ejaculation. I was forced to swallow to avoid letting it dribble onto his clothes. My throat bulged as it passed into my stomach, my taste buds overwhelmed. Without letup my mouth was again almost filled. My body quivered in the wonderful thrill of having pleased a powerful man.
And I hadn’t spilled a single drop on him.
In my focus on giving Nathan Chase what he wanted I’d not noticed that the limo had come to a stop, my naked ass still stuck half out of the window.
Right now I couldn’t care less.
Nathan Chase grunted again, a grunt I chose to translate as a thank you.
I hoped I had earned a touch in return, his fingers on my clit. Or even a spanking.
Instead he said, “Zip me up.”
I did as he ordered. He started to slide aside, and I moved to let him up. His hand tightened on my ass. “Stay like that,” he commanded.
The other door opened. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the driver standing on the sidewalk, his face impassive, holding the door. Yet I saw the lust in his eye.
Without another word Nathan Chase slid out of the car, leaving me with my face pressed against the now empty, hot seat, and my dress yanked up around my back. My ass and much more visible for all to see.
The door closed and I was alone.
Another horn honked, dragging me back into the present. I pulled myself up to a sitting position on the seat.
Again the quiet thud of the door. The limo started moving.
Nathan Chase had left me like that.
Of course he had. That was why he was who he was.
I couldn’t resist my own needs any longer, the inner fury of desire that this powerful man had awakened. I spread my legs wide, pretending it was Nathan Chase’s hands forcing them apart. My fingers flew to my pussy. Not a gentle caress, that wouldn’t be him. Nor would he lick me; I couldn’t imagine Nathan Chase on his knees under a woman.
I drove three fingers into my ready pussy, the way I expected he would have taken me with his cock. No hesitation, no foreplay, expecting and demanding that I be ready for him. Knowing I would be.
I fucked myself with abandon, my eyes closed, the rumble of the limo echoing my own inner boiling heat. I would have given anything at that moment for a real live cock.
Instead I had to settle for the poor excuse of my fingers. I wasn’t sure what excited me more, the thought of Nathan Chase fucking me, or him sitting smugly at his desk right now, leaving me high but far from dry, knowing exactly what I’d be doing right now.
I wished he could see me right now, touching myself.
And above all, I wished Peter had seen it all. I wished he had been the driver, sitting up front, wondering what was going on behind that privacy screen.
Which through my barely open eyes I realized was down. The limo had stopped, the driver watching me with a wicked grin.
I rewarded myself, not him, with an orgasm that shot me right off the seat. My pussy contracted around my fingers as I continued to fuck myself, covering my entire hand with my fluids. Never in my life had I felt so wet, my own mini ejaculation.
The driver was no replacement for Peter.
And a far cry from Nathan Chase. At this point he mattered so little to me that I ignored him as I wallowed in the glow of my massive release.
My wetness dripped between my legs onto the luxurious leather seat. Nathan Chase was, no doubt, going to be very angry.
I wondered how he’d make me pay.
I recognized the familiar door of the coffee shop out the window. I took my time pulling myself together, tucking my dress down my legs. One of my shoes had come off. I couldn’t find my panties, no doubt the torn pieces left like sexual breadcrumbs along the streets. No matter, I’d never have put them back on in my condition.
I got out of the car, expecting to see a crowd staring a
t me. Instead, people just moved along the sidewalk, intent on their own day. It made me wonder how many women were driving by in cars right now, sucking on a cock, masturbating, oblivious to the world and the world oblivious to them.
My mouth was filled with the salty remnants of Nathan Chase. My own warm fluids dripped down my inner thighs.
The driver rolled down his window. “Mr. Chase owes me a bonus. I bet when he gets tired of you he’ll give you to me.”
His words were cocky, yet his line seemed rehearsed. Maybe he had used it before, maybe he’d been tossed a bone by Nathan Chase. Yet the driver, handsome as he was, had none of what Nathan Chase had. Nathan Chase wouldn’t be drooling over hand me down women.
This man, as good looking as Nathan Chase, perhaps more so, did nothing for me.
I leaned into the window. The driver’s startled response confirmed my suspicion. Rough on the outside, nothing on the inside.
“I’ll give you a bonus right now,” I purred, letting my breath out, promising with my words, yet expelling a reminder of his boss’s musk.
“Yeah?” He tried to sound noncommittal, but his desperation was unmistakable to a woman, especially a woman like me.
“Want to feel my wetness?”
He gulped in response, his eyes darting around, no doubt wondering what he’d do if I lifted my dress and spread my legs for him right there.
I waited for my offer to sink in, and then I said, “I left a gallon of it on that back seat. Be a dear and clean it up for me, will you?”
Peter
“You left him like that?” I couldn’t believe the story. The end of it, anyway.
“Yes. Just like that.”
“That’s so mean!” But I was laughing, the jerk deserved it.
We were in our bed, naked, the covers thrown off. We’d had wild sex the minute Andie had returned from her ride with Nathan Chase. She’d told me the story as we’d made love, adding in details to spur me on. Not that I needed spurring; it had taken all my willpower not to jerk off when she had been out, wanting to save myself for her.
Maybe waiting hadn’t been a good idea, because though she was soaking wet at my first touch, I still came too fast. While Andie’s tryst had turned me on, it was all the sweeter that I’d got to fuck her and Nathan Chase had not.
