by Becky Bell
If this was what Archibald Clarke wanted from her, she was happy to provide it. All her misgivings had disappeared. She was behaving like a whore, but she didn't see that it mattered. She only intended to have one client. Things were going well at the agency and, if she continued to earn good bonuses, she would soon be able to finance the mortgage from her income from that job. This then, she told herself, was an interim measure.
It was also a terribly exciting interim measure. There was something about the fact that this whole arrangement was so blatant, that she had arrived at this house specifically to have sex with Archibald and for no other reason, which had aroused her right from the beginning. And of course, she was in charge.
'Can you see?' she asked.
'Mmm...' he mumbled, afraid of dropping the mac.
Angela concentrated on herself. It wasn't going to take much to make her come. She withdrew her fingers from her sex with a distinct plop and moved her hand up to her mons, letting her middle finger rub gently but rapidly against the top of her clit. The familiar sensations leapt through her body. In seconds she felt her sex clenching convulsively and her clit began to throb, sending out huge waves of delicious sensation. Her nipples were throbbing too, her breasts quivering from the movement of her arm. She dropped her head to look down between her legs at Archibald, but could only see the lining of the mac covering his lower body. But the sight of the sheer black stockings banding her legs, the red leather waspie biting into her waist, and her hand working away at her sex gave her another kick of pleasure. Her muscles locked and she threw her head back and cried out loud, her orgasm washing over her, wiping away everything but the feeling of itself.
As the feelings ebbed away, she rolled over on to her back and allowed herself a few minutes to calm down.
Archibald Clarke was staring at her, but the sparkle in his eyes had been replaced by a glazed expression. He had dropped the mac and it was lying on the bed, the shiny black PVC spattered with semen.
'Congratulations!'
Gary Roe was standing in front of her desk with a broad grin, revealing teeth that would not have been out of place in a toothpaste advertisement.
'What have I done?' Angela said, looking puzzled.
'The Barnabys. They're not only going to buy the penthouse but they want numbers Three and Four too, for their children, when they come over to visit. That means we've sold the whole building. I had a deal with Boyle that if we sold all ten flats before the end of the month we'd be on a three per cent bonus. That's a lot of money.'
'The Barnabys? I showed them around the other two that were free, but I thought they preferred the penthouse.'
'It's your sale, all three, you get the commission.'
'Really? But I didn't really do anything.'
'Not according to them. They said you suggested it would make a nice flat for their kids.'
'No, I think what I said was for kids in general.'
'Well, they got the idea anyway. Look, I'd like to take you out to celebrate. I don't suppose you're doing anything for dinner tonight? Feel free to say no. No pressure - I hate that. But it would be sociable.'
A couple of months ago she might have hesitated, finding it hard to handle a situation which might end with him propositioning her. Now she was sure she could handle anything that arose. And anyway, she liked Gary Roe. He was straight with all his staff, praised them when praise was due and had never tried to sexually harass any of the girls.
'That would be great,' she said enthusiastically.
'Can I pick you up? Say, eight? You'd better give me your address.'
Angela reeled it off.
'Hey,' Gary said, looking puzzled. 'I know this block. It's very swish. Are we paying you too much money?'
Angela felt herself blushing. 'I had a little from my family,' she said.
'Oh, right. Well, good for you. If you go on like this you'll be able to buy a house.'
Angela wore a slinky black silk dress with a deep V-neck. The cut of the neckline meant that she could not wear a bra, though the dress was structured in such a way as to push her breasts into a deep and alluring cleavage. The dress clung to her narrow waist and pert buttocks so tightly that it was also impossible for her to wear any panties, so her underwear consisted of a pair tights.
Whether this dress would send the wrong messages to Gary Roe, she was not sure. She didn't really know what messages she wanted to send to him anyway, but she certainly wasn't going to dress down in order make sure he didn't make a pass at her. Gary Roe was, after all, an attractive man. He was unmarried, according to the office gossip, though he had a girlfriend who, Sally Fennell believed at least, he wasn't all that keen on. Of course, Angela hadn't the slightest idea what she would do if he did make a pass at the end of the evening, but, she told herself firmly, smiling into the mirror as she put the finishing touches to her make-up, there had to be a bit of spontaneity in life.
The doorbell rang at five minutes past eight and Angela told him over the entry-phone that she would be right down. She picked up a little evening bag, locked her front door, and took the lift down to the ground floor. Gary Roe was waiting on the pavement outside.
'Hi,' she said.
'My God, you look gorgeous,' he said.
'Thank you, kind sir.'
He opened the passenger door of his Mercedes for her, and waited while she got in, taking a good look at her legs as she arranged them on the leather seat.
They drove out into Holland Park Avenue.
'Where are we going?' she asked.
'Little Italian place I know. Real Italian country food. It's delicious.'
And it was. They had pasta drenched in a seafood sauce of clams, mussels, scallops and prawns, followed by lamb with artichokes. They talked about the business, discussing the valuation of the various properties they had on the market, the personalities of some of the buyers and sellers and the deal that Gary had with Boyle Brothers Developments, the sale of whose new block of flats had occasioned the dinner. They had three other developments they wanted Slaughter and Roe to handle.
Refusing dessert, they opted for Vin Santo and biscotti instead.
'Well I'd better get you home,' Gary Roe said, looking at his watch.
'It's been a lovely evening,' Angela said. 'Thank you.'
'My pleasure.' He raised his hand and attracted the waiter's attention, scribbling on the palm of his hand to indicate he wanted the bill.
'I haven't found out much about you, though,' Angela said.
'There's not much to know. I'm single, thirty-four, been an estate agent all my life, founded Slaughter and Roe nine years ago. Really boring.'
'Never been married?'
'No.' His expression changed. 'I've never really found it easy to get on with women,' he said seriously.
'Really? I thought you were doing extremely well with me.'
He smiled. 'I take that as a compliment.'
'But you do have a regular girlfriend?'
'Yes. Well, more of a friend, really: more like a sister, if you know what I mean. But what about you? You must have men crawling at your feet.'
Angela smiled. If only he knew how true that was! 'There's no one special,' she said nonchalantly.
The bill arrived and Gary paid it with his credit card. They got back in the car.
'I hope you haven't been bored,' he said as they drove away.
'Bored?'
'All this talk about business. Not very entertaining for you.'
'I like it. I like my job. I want to do well at it.'
'I think you've got every chance of that, judging from what I've seen already.'
Angela felt completely relaxed in Gary's company. She rested her head against the head restraint of the leather seat and watched him drive. She had enjoyed the evening but still didn't know how it would end. Everything he had said this evening led her to believe that she already had established herself in his eyes as a candidate for promotion, and he didn't seem like the sort of man who a
llowed personal favours to influence his business decisions - which, as far as she was concerned, was a definite plus. In other words, if she pecked him on the cheek and said goodnight out on the street, he would think no worse of her.
On the other hand, being cynical, it would do her career prospects no harm at all if she took him to bed. Though she knew perfectly well, after her experience with Bob Berry, that she could not expect pyrotechnics in the sex department, she liked Gary and she wouldn't at all mind curling up next to him and giving him a good time. Her sex life had become so rich and varied, she certainly didn't need to worry if occasionally it was not orgasmic.
He found a parking place almost outside her block and reversed into it. As he got out of the car and walked around to open the passenger door for her, she knew she had to decide what to do.
'It's been great,' he said as he opened the door.
'I'd like to invite you in,' she said, climbing out. 'But I guess it hasn't been that sort of evening. Perhaps another time.'
'I wasn't expecting you to, Angela, I really wasn't.'
'Good.'
'Goodnight, then.' He leant forward and pecked her on the cheek. 'I really would like to do this again.'
'So would I.'
He walked to the driver's door.
'Gary,' she said.
'Yes?'
'Can I change my mind?'
'About what?'
'Why don't you come in? I don't want the evening to end yet. I'll make us some coffee.'
For a second she thought his expression registered fear, like a frightened rabbit. But then he smiled. 'That would be nice.'
They walked into her block and took the lift. Angela opened her front door and led him inside.
'Hey, this is great. I think I sold this apartment once, three or four years ago. You've done it out beautifully.'
She led him into the living room and drew the curtains. She hadn't bought that much furniture but, with her latest bonus, had just taken delivery of a large cherry-coloured sofa.
'I don't really want coffee,' she said. Boldly, she turned to him, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him full on the mouth. She felt his tongue poking between her lips tentatively and sucked it in, wrapping her arms around his back and hugging him tight. His body felt hard and strong. She could feel a bulge pushing up against her navel.
'I think you've just been sexually harassed,' she said, pulling away.
'That's a first, then,' he said.
'Are you inhibited by women who take the initiative?'
'I don't think so,' he said.
'In that case, why don't I show you the bedroom?'
She thought she glimpsed that same expression she had seen outside, a momentary flash of fear, but then he smiled and took her hand. 'Lead the way,' he said.
Angela led him down the corridor, smiling to herself. She was behaving like a slut, but she was completely confident with her sexuality now and saw no reason not to be blatant about it. Before, she had always been a shrinking violet, fumbling and hesitant. Now she wanted to take Gary to her bed, and saw no reason why she should waste time pretending that she didn't.
She passed the door to her treatment room and along to her bedroom. The instant arousal she was prone to with Gregory and now with Sir Archibald Clarke, the pulses of feeling that rippled through her sex, were not manifesting themselves. But she felt relaxed and at ease and glad she had invited him in.
'Make yourself at home,' she said. She had decorated the bedroom in shades of blue, with dark-blue patterned curtains that matched the counterpane.
This time Gary took the initiative. He pulled her to him and kissed her again, crushing his lips into hers and pushing his tongue deep into her mouth. His hands caressed her back, running down to the curves of her buttocks.
'Unzip me,' she whispered, turning around.
He found the tongue of the zip and pulled it down. The zip sang. She pulled the shoulder-straps down her arms and wriggled the tight material over her hips. There was a time when she would have been terribly shy, taking her clothes off with a man for the first time, but those times had long gone. She turned to face Gary.
'Too tight for underwear,' she said. He was staring at her body. 'Your turn.'
'I need to use the bathroom.'
'Over there,' she said, indicating the door at the side of the bed.
He disappeared through it.
Angela stripped off the counterpane and the duvet, then stripped her tights off and lay on the bed. She wondered how Gary would have reacted if she'd changed into a satin basque and black stockings and a pair of her tarty high heels.
Gary appeared from the bathroom. He was wearing a pair of white briefs. He walked up to the bed and smiled weakly. It was easy to read the expression on his face. It was apprehension.
'You're beautiful,' he said. He stripped off his briefs and sat on the bed. 'Listen, Angela, I hope you won't be disappointed. I'm not very good at all this.'
'It doesn't matter,' she said reassuringly. She sat up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her naked body into his back.
'Feels nice,' Gary said.
He turned and pushed her back across the bed, kissing her on the mouth. He slid his lips down her neck and cupped her left breast in his hand, squeezing the doughy flesh. She could feel his cock resting against her hip. It was only very slightly engorged.
'I'm sorry,' he said, looking down at his loins. 'It's not that I don't fancy you.'
'Sh,' she said, pressing a finger to his lips. 'We haven't even started yet. Let me,' she said gently. She rolled him onto his back and kissed his chest. He had a mat of curly hair that ran all the way down to his pubes. She kissed both his nipples, then ran her mouth down to his belly. Taking his circumcised cock in her hand, she fed it into her mouth, running her tongue over the ridge at the base of his glans. It began to swell immediately. As it grew she sucked on it while her hand worked its way under his balls, lifting and jiggling them.
'That's great,' he said.
His cock-was soon fully erect. She sucked on it again, then pulled her mouth away.
'Stage fright,' she said, grinning.
Immediately Gary pushed her back on the bed and rolled on top of her. Before she had a chance to open her legs his cock was pushing up between her thighs. She spread them apart, and felt his glans thrust into her labia. But even as it did and he directed it down to the mouth of her vagina, it softened. He tried to thrust it up into her but, in a matter of seconds, the rigidity had gone and he could barely get it more than an inch or two inside her.
'Sorry,' he said, 'I'm really sorry.' He rolled off her and lay staring at the ceiling.
'Does this happen often, Gary?'
'I told you, I've never been very good with women.'
'Is there anything I can do?'
'No.' But he said it in a way that suggested the answer was the opposite.
'There is, isn't there? Come on, Gary. I like you. You're a really nice man. If I can help, I will. I'm very broadminded.' He would never be able to guess exactly how broadminded she was.
'I think I'd better go,' he said quietly, sitting up and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.
'Gary...'
'It's humiliating, Angela,' he said, without turning to look at her.
Now that was an interesting word, she thought. 'Why don't you let me be the judge of that?' she said.
'It's just that I like to be naughty.'
'Naughty.' That word was interesting too. He was trying to clue her into something, too shy to actually tell her what he wanted.
'Yes.'
'So you're a naughty boy.'
'Yes.' She saw him quiver as she said the words. It was exactly the same reaction she got from Archibald when she'd told him to get to his knees. 'When I was about nineteen I used to know this lady. She was much older than me. She sort of introduced me to sex but she used to say it was really bad and dirty and I was so naughty for wanting to do it with her. And she used
to spank me.'
'Spank you?'
'Lying flat on the bed. Or across her knee. She'd never let me have sex with her until she'd spanked me.' He was still not looking at her. 'I think it must have turned her on. It hurt. It really stung. But it had the same effect on me.'
'Do you want me to do that to you?' For the first time Angela felt her body pulse with excitement.
'Look, Angela, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's probably better that I go.' He looked round at her. His face was bright red.
'Tell me more,' she insisted.
'There isn't any more to tell. I was all right at first but, after a while, I kept thinking about that woman and what she had done to me, and it got me all screwed up. I really ought to get myself sorted out.'
'Lie on the bed, Gary,' Angela said, in the tone of voice she had learnt from Paula.
'No. Look, it's all right...'
'Do as I say.'
Gary looked her in the eyes. What he saw there must have convinced him that she was perfectly serious.
'Not like that: lie on your stomach, you idiot.'
He rolled onto his front. Immediately Angela raised her hand and slapped it across his buttocks. His buttocks quivered.
'Is this what she used to do to you?'
'Yes,' he gasped.
'And this?' She slapped him again. It made her hand tingle. But her sex was tingling, too. She hit him three or four times in quick succession, alternating the slaps between each buttock, making sure they shared the pain.
She supposed she should have been surprised that he wanted this treatment and, a couple of months ago, she would have been. But after what she had seen at Paula's, she could take it in her stride. She remembered her friend telling her that there was no shortage of men wanting her services. It appeared that such predilections were much more common than she'd imagined.
Gary's body was rigid. He had pressed his face down into the sheet, but gave a little yelp at each slap, the sound muffled by the bedding.
'This is what naughty boys deserve. Dirty little boys.'
Gary rolled over. He grabbed Angela by the shoulders and pulled her down on the bed beside him, kissing her passionately on the mouth. Where before his mouth had been rather cold, now it was hot and wet. He crushed his lips against her as he undulated his body, her breasts pressed into his chest.
