by Ana Meadows
“Yes,” he said. “I have.” He set the bottle down, and put his hand on Alice’s neck, then traced a finger down her collar bone, the swell of her breast, her nipple. She sighed, arching toward him and his wonderful hands. “For the next few days,” he began, swirling his thumb over her rising nipple. “Let’s consider your stay here a kind of extended interview.”
Alice moaned as Cal’s hand slid from her breast, down her waist, rounding her hip, to her thigh, then snaked up her bare thigh to her dampening mound. His eyebrow lifted, discovering that beneath the expensive dress, she was naked. “What- what do you mean?” she breathed.
“I mean,” he said, leaning closer. “That if you work hard enough for the next few days and impress me, you can show me I can’t do without you. Then I might just be able to find you, I don’t know, a paid position.” He kissed her deeply, his tongue sliding into her mouth. She sucked on it, taking it deeper past her lips, as if it were his cock. He moaned, pressing himself against her, and she could feel the real thing pressing against her belly. He pulled away from her slightly. “Take off your clothes,” he whispered.
She opened the front of the dress, revealing her breasts, rosy from baking beneath the sun. Just as she’d shrugged it off her shoulders, Watkins appeared on the stairs, a tray of hors d’ouvres in his hand. He took in the situation, his eyes meeting Alice’s, his cheeks reddening deeply. He hastily set the tray down on the table and made a fast exit to below deck. Cal’s lips twitched into an amused smile.
Alice looked into Cal’s eyes and slipped the Versace down over her hips. It fell to her feet, cast away as if it were nothing more than a rag. Cal stepped back, appraising her body. She watched as he wet his lips, his eyes hungry. “Step back against the mast,” he ordered, and she took a step backward gracefully in the stiletto heels she was wearing. When she felt the warm, smooth wood against her back, Cal stepped forward, loosening his silk tie and pulling it from around his neck. He moved behind the mast, grabbing her wrists and secured them behind her with the tie, the tension from the trussing pulling Alice’s shoulders back, making her breasts push upward and out, her erect nipples thrust skyward.
Cal picked up the dress and draped it over the back of a chair. “Don’t want to ruin this, do we?” he said.
“No, of course not,” Alice said. Then she licked her lips and added, “Sir.”
Car raised an eyebrow, his face registering pleasure. “So,” he said. “I understand you are interested in the company?”
“Yes, sir,” Alice answered, arching her back a bit and slowly rotating her hips, thrusting them outward. She could feel the gentle sea breeze tickling her bush, which was as red as her fiery hair. “What positions do you have available?”
He reached out and ran a finger from her collar bone to her pubic bone. It was as if a ribbon of electricity ran down her body. “How about - my personal - my very personal assistant?”
“Of course,” Alice whispered. “Sir.”
A wicked smile played on Cal’s lips. “You should be aware,” he said, “That at times there may be some alcohol involved.” And with that he reached for the bottle of champagne and began to pour it slowly over her body. Alice shivered as the effervescent liquid ran in a thin stream over the swell of her breasts, her nipples, her belly, slowly dripping into the crevasses of her mound, between her thighs, and down the inside of her legs. The breeze off the water cooled the liquid on her skin, making her shiver and her nipples to contract even more, making them hard as marbles. Cal set the bottle down, not taking his eyes from her body, writhing against the mast, and removed his jacket, his shirt, and his slacks. He stood on the deck in a pair of silk briefs, blazing white against his tanned skin. His body was magnificent, his growing organ very evident beneath the lovely fabric.
His hands went to Alice’s waist and his head bent, his tongue flicking out and he began lapping the champagne from her skin, circling a nipple, then sucking, then nibbling, just a little too hard; the pain shot through Alice’s body, making her shudder with pleasure. She moaned. Cal looked up into her face. “Be quiet,” he whispered. “No matter what I do, do not make a sound. Do you understand?”
Alice locked her eyes on his. She nodded briefly. How would she ever be able to stay quiet while he was doing such wonderful things to her body? Cal poured more of the bubbly wine on her breasts and drank from her skin, licking, sucking, nibbling. He kept his hands firmly on her hips, not touching her anywhere below her chest, and this was driving her mad. She could smell her musk mingled with the scent of the champagne issuing from her womanhood, and it was intoxicating. There was a wanting; a throbbing deep inside her, and her thighs were wet from the wine and her own honey. As Cal licked and bit at her swollen, sensitive nipples, Alice focused on sucking in the moans and cries she ached to make. Her breathing became ragged, and she wanted nothing more than to have him touch her; to slide his fingers between her hot, wet slit and bring her some relief. She tried to press herself against him, against his huge erection, his slippery silk undergarments, but when she did so, he maddeningly pulled the lower half of his body back, out of her reach.
Finally his head began to sink lower, leaving her nipples cold in the breeze issuing off the water. The sun was sinking now, and candles flickered on the table behind Cal, making a halo behind his fine head. His tongue was on her belly now, flicking in and out of her belly-button, drinking the wine from her, his hands had slid around to her buttocks and were cupping them, squeezing firmly, then gently pulling her hips out and lifting her to his mouth.
His tongue connecting with the tender, pink skin between her lips was like an electric shock, and in ecstasy, Alice cried out. Cal immediately stopped his activities and stood up, walking away from her. Her brows knitted together and she was about to cry out, “No!”, but he hushed her, putting a finger to her lips. “Not. A. Sound.” He crossed the deck, his back to her, the sunset behind him a watercolor of gold, pink, violet, flame. “Quiet strength in times of – duress. That’s important to me,” he said. He was silent for a long moment, leaning on the rail, the taut cheeks of his ass defined against the silk of his drawers. Alice gazed at his fine glutes and licked her lips.
“Character is important. Promises kept as well.” He turned. “Do you understand?
Alice looked into his eyes and nodded. “Inability to do so results in – a bit of punishment. Possibly, a period of – probation.” Not looking away from her, Cal shed the silk underwear. His hard-on pulsing up out of the fabric. His cock was long and thick, the head smooth and purple like a mushroom cap. Alice could not help looking at it longingly, for she knew the pleasure it held; she’d certainly experienced it enough the past few days. She imagined its silky length sliding up into her, taking away the throbbing ache deep inside her, and at that thought, a new rush of slipperiness flooded her pussy, making the insides of her thighs slick.
Cal leaned back against the railing, the golden light falling on his body, making it that of a god. The sound of the water lapping against the ship was music, and the gentle breeze caressed Alice’s skin like a ghostly lover, making her shudder. She watched intently, hungrily as Cal slipped his hand over his naked chest and belly, imagining it was her hand, that she was feeling the soft skin, the rippling musculature of his body. It slipped into the wiry hair beneath his belly, finally grasping his stiff member in his fist, holding it out for her to see, a seed of cum appearing at its tip. Alice wet her lips, longing for the saltiness of him. Cal stroked the length of his cock for her, and cupped his balls, massaging them, the setting sun gleaming on skin of his manhood, making it look like a golden scepter. He smiled, seeing the need in Alice’s eyes. “Shall we try again?” he said. “Can you be silent?”
Alice nodded hungrily, and Cal walked toward her, still grasping his cock in his hand, moving up and down, and it strained toward her, growing tighter, thicker. When he reached her, he stroked her belly, mons and thighs with the hard rod, making her shiver. She wanted to scream at him, fuck me!
Fuck me! But she knew she must keep quiet if she was to please him. She pressed her lips together, not so much as a whimper escaping them. Nodding in recognition of her effort, he then sank to his knees, once more continuing his attention to her sweet cunt, slick with her juices and the shower of champagne. He placed his hands under her bum, lifting her thighs to his shoulders and she opened for him like a red flower, her petals unfolding for his hot mouth, and he dove into her, his tongue probing her softest, sweetest of places. His long, stiff tongue, like a small cock, reached inside her, warming her, drinking her. His lips wrapped around her clit, which poked up - a sensitive center of pleasure - and it grew in his mouth, and Alice shuddered with the effort to keep herself quiet, silent.
Her only release was to move her hips against him, the rough skin of his face causing a pleasing, painful friction on the soft skin of her insides, and still she longed for him to be buried deep inside her. She moved against him frantically, feeling the orgasm build inside her, but Cal could feel it too, and he painfully, cruelly ceased his movements, rising again, and stepping from her. She began to shake her head frantically, wanting him to continue, to suck, to lick, or to fuck her; fuck her deeply. Cal shook his head, and again put a finger to his lips.
He moved to the table and grasped one of the chairs, placing it before Alice. Then he stepped up on the chair, his cement-like cock readily available to her waiting lips. He leaned forward, grasping the mast over her head for leverage, and Alice opened her mouth and received him; her red, lip-sticked lips wrapping around the mushroom head, swirling around the ridge beneath it. She breathed a sigh, for tasting him after the previous, tense moments of deep wanting was like swallowing the sweetest nectar. He pushed his hips forward slightly and she pulled him in, the head of his cock resting at the back of her throat, and she made swallowing motions, grasping and releasing it, while swirling her tongue on the shaft. He moaned with pleasure, and Alice was never so jealous of a moan, for she wanted to return the same, and more.
She sucked, sliding her mouth over and over his thick member, savoring it. She could feel him tensing, and prepared herself to receive him, but again he stopped, jumping down from the chair nimbly, and quickly disappeared behind the mast. She felt him untying her wrists, and moving her roughly toward the rail of the ship. “Quiet” he whispered softly in her ear, and she nodded as pin-pricks made her arms tingle, blood rushing back into the limbs. She hadn’t even been aware that they’d fallen asleep, so keen and focused she’d been on the rising storm inside her, the wanting.
Cal pressed her belly against the warm railing of the ship, his hands coming up behind her and grasped both nipples painfully, pinching them and grinding them between his fingers. The shock of pain jolted down her body, and Alice bit her lip to keep from crying out, cum flooding her pussy. She could feel the breeze like fingers against her clit, which had swelled and poked out from between her pussy lips. She moved her hips, pressing her clit against the rail below to give herself some pleasure and relief as Cal continued to manipulate her nipples painfully, pleasurably, fire shooting through her. His hard cock pushed between her legs and she could feel it sliding in and out between her pussy lips, teasing her almost cruelly. She moved her hips in time with him, the wiry hair of her mound causing friction to heat them both.
Finally, thankfully, Cal lifted her up, spreading her apart and plunged his cock deep inside her. Alice bit down hard on her lip, drawing blood, the salty warmth coating her tongue as Cal’s hips slammed into her ass over and over again, his rod thick, ropey, reaching to her very core; so deep she thought she could feel him in her belly, battering her inside. Still, she held herself in check, not moaning, crying out. Tears had formed in her eyes; tears of pleasure, of pain, and, she recognized, of a growing emotion for this man who could so thoroughly touch her very soul. Alice began to shake, her body convulsing, spilling a great quantity of her own champagne, her honey, her sweetness coating his cock, wetting their union. Behind her, she heard Cal cry out, and imagined him watching their coupling in the dying light, causing her another shudder of pleasure, picturing his silky, hard cock buried in her wet, red slit, and she came again, her pussy contracting over and over against him.
He slid into her then, with a force, slamming her against the rail, his cock buried deep, exploding inside her, his cum, her cum, running down the insides of her smooth, soft thighs like rivulets of molten silver.
Chapter Four
Afterward, they’d slipped into the pool, the water cooling their skin. They sat at the table then; naked, damp, ravenous, and devoured the lovely appetizers Watkins had delivered earlier, both their faces flushed with the heat of lovemaking. They’d gone below deck after, to the master suite, and made love gently, like people in love.
Now, Cal breathed gently at her side. Alice was nuzzled in the crook of his arm, her head resting on his strong shoulder. She looked up, his face beautiful to her in the moonlight, her eyes growing wet with tears. Her heart ached, for she knew she wanted him; not just in her bed, but in her life. She was falling in love with this remarkable man. But she knew she’d stolen her way into his life. She thought about his offer of a job and wondered if he was serious, and if so was it simply one of acting his concubine? As another tear slipped from her eye, Alice knew she could not agree to this.
According to Watkins that morning, they were three days from port. Alice placed her palm flat on Cal’s chest, feeling it moving with his breath, his heart beating beneath. She had three days. Could she make his heart beat for her? She slipped her hand down his belly, teasing the hair at the base of his cock. In sleep, Cal moaned softly. Alice began moving her fingers silkily against the smooth skin of his beautiful penis, feeling it awakening. She nuzzled his neck and began to kiss up his cheek, making her way to his mouth, waking him with her tongue.
Since the night Cal had made his offer of a possible position working for him, he and Alice had taken all their meals on the topmost deck where that offer had been made. Maybe that had nothing to do with it. Maybe it was simply the stretch of balmy weather and spectacular sunsets, but in any case, Alice was at her favorite spot this time of day, leaning on the railing, looking out to sea and the setting sun, waiting for Cal to appear for a pre-dinner drink. She’d grown to love it here on the yacht, more than she should, she supposed, and the days she’d spent here had quickly felt like the norm. She’d nearly forgotten her other life, back at the university, studying and working at the coffee shop. Not forgotten, really, but simply that she hadn’t wanted to think about it. She pushed a hand through her long, red hair and let out a frustrated sigh. Tomorrow they would land, and still Cal had not explained his offer. Nor had she had the courage to tell him of her feelings, in part, Alice had to admit, because of the mysterious offer.
Personal Assistant. What did that mean, exactly? That roles would change from one of intimacy to one of business, that it was a legitimate offer of employment? Or that she would be a paid plaything, his concubine? And if it was the latter, Alice knew that even though she loved being close to him, loved the wild encounters they’d had thus far- she knew she could never abide that. It would only mean humiliation and a broken heart. She knew herself well enough to know that. She loved sexual adventures, but she wouldn’t be paid for them. She wasn’t a whore.
She turned as Watkins appeared on the stairs, carrying a huge silver wine bucket; a bottle of Dom Perignon poking out of the top. “Evening, Miss,” he said, nodding. He set the bucket down on the finely set table. As usual there were fresh flowers and greens.
“Hello,” she answered.
“Might I say, you look lovely, as usual, Miss?”
“Thank you, Watkins,” she responded. Tonight she wore a black sheath she’d found in the closet in the guest room, simple, elegant, her blazing hair long and loose over one shoulder. The manservant wrapped a white linen towel around the top of the champagne bottle and turned to go.
“Watkins?”
“Yes, Miss?”
�
�The flowers - where do you get them? We haven’t seen land in days.”
The older man smiled. “Ah, that’s my secret,” he said. He turned and made his way down the stairs to the galley. Wonderful aromas were issuing from down below, redolent of Middle Eastern spices; garlic, mint, cinnamon, oregano. Dining aboard the FORBIDDEN was like eating at a five star restaurant for every meal. Alice wondered, not for the first time, where Cal had found the amazing Watkins.
At her thought, the man himself appeared at the head of the stairs. Tonight Cal wore a lovely Armani jacket over a linen shirt, open at the throat, showing his golden skin. Alice sucked in her breath at the sight of him. She could never weary of just looking at him; the fine jaw line, his eyes that crinkled at the corners when he was amused, his full lips- not to mention the body beneath the expensive clothing. Alice had gotten to know every inch of that wonderful physique intimately over the past week or so. She smiled at him, leaning back against the rail, her marvelous hair catching in the slight breeze issuing off the water.
Cal walked over to her and took her hand, kissing the palm seductively, his eyes meeting hers. “You look positively stunning in that dress,” he said.
“Thank you,” she said. “I’ve been having fun playing dress up with all the lovely clothes.” Her brows knit together in a frown then, thinking about the well-stocked closet, the dresses and lingerie and shoes, all designer, expensive, tasteful and sexy. Could it be that Cal was married or that he had a partner? Were these her clothes? Alice turned away slightly, looking at the sunset on the water.
