Mr Spencer

by Swan, T L

  “Where did you get these?” Anthony asks.

  I fake a smile. “A secret admirer from work. Someone on level four, apparently.”

  Wyatt frowns from behind the flowers. “Who?”

  “I’m not sure, but I’m hoping it’s the guy from accounts.”

  Anthony smirks and I smile cheekily. I’m going to throw them off the Spencer scent.

  We get into the lift, and I have to concentrate on keeping a straight face. Every day it’s the same routine. We come back here, they check my apartment and check the fire stair doors are still locked from the outside, and then after they are satisfied that it is safe, I’m left alone.

  We arrive at my floor and Anthony walks inside first as Wyatt and I stay outside. Then Wyatt goes in while I wait for them to give me the all clear.

  I listen to them walking through the apartment. It’s never really occurred to me before now how bizarre this actually is.

  “You can come in!” Wyatt calls. I walk in to find my roses have been carefully placed in the centre of the dining table.

  “Thank you.” I walk in and throw my handbag on the foyer table. I kick off my shoes, turn the television on, and I walk through to the kitchen to boil the kettle.

  I listen as Anthony walks around upstairs and Wyatt does his balcony checks. Eventually, they both come down to the kitchen to find me.

  “Are you going out again tonight?” Anthony asks.

  “No. I’m having room service and going to bed early,” I lie. “I won’t be needing you again this evening.”

  “We’ll be here in the hotel the whole night,” Anthony assures me.

  I smile. “Thank you for taking such good care of me. I appreciate you both.”

  They head to the front door, and Wyatt turns to look at me as if he knows something is off.

  I smile calmly and hold eye contact with him.

  Flowers and lingerie, you idiot.

  He knows.

  “Goodnight, boys.” I smile. “I’ll head down to the gym at 6:00 a.m. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

  “We’ll see you there,” Wyatt says flatly, and then they both walk out into the corridor.

  “See you then.” I close the door, turn the lock, and run through the apartment and up to my room.

  Next stop: YouPorn.

  I open my laptop and type the words YouPorn into the search bar as I sit on my bed. The site opens up in front of me and my eyes instantly widen.

  Oh shit.

  The page is full of little squares of images of things—things that I have never seen before. My mouth falls open, but I find myself leaning closer. There are women bent over, men ejaculating, dicks—lots of dicks.

  I swallow the lump in my throat as I scroll through the images.

  I click on the next page and read some of the headings.

  Slut Fucks Teacher. Anal to Mouth. Anal to what? That’s a thing? Hubs Watches Wife Fuck His Friend. Dual POV? What does that mean? Cream Pie! What the hell is a cream pie?

  I scroll through the pages, completely overwhelmed. It’s very intimidating seeing images of naked people having sex. Dicks, lots of hard dicks, in every shape and colour… they’re everywhere.

  I click out of the site in disgust, slamming my laptop shut.

  It feels cheap to even be looking at it.

  I shiver in disgust and get up to go take a shower.

  Ten minutes later, as I stand under the hot water, I think about what I’ve just seen. I want to know how to please Spencer. I want to know what to do.

  There is only one way to learn. It’s not like I’m going to be able to see this stuff anywhere else.

  I’m going to have to go out there and make myself watch a few things.

  I turn off the shower with renewed determination, and I storm back out to my bedroom to reopen my laptop. I scroll through the categories.

  Romantic? Yes, I want romantic. I keep searching until I find one that looks okay, and I hit play, leaning back against my headboard.

  It involves a couple, both about my age, and both dark haired. They’re naked in bed and kissing.

  His hand slides down to between her legs, and I watch, transfixed.

  They begin to kiss, his hand moving lower. I sit forward as he slides two fingers into her.

  My mouth falls open. Oh, I feel my arousal rolling in as I watch him turn her on. I can see the muscles on his shoulder contract as he works her. Her legs are opening wider and wider. This is hot.

  My eyebrows rise, and I swallow the lump in my throat. I look around guiltily. This feels so naughty. I exhale as she moans and thrashes, her back arching off the bed. I can almost feel it myself. I rub my legs together to ease some tension.

  The man lies back, and she kisses down his chest and over his stomach. Then she begins to suck on his penis.

  His hands are on the back of her head.

  I hold my breath.

  Fascinated, I watch her bring him to his undoing. He groans beneath her, unable to control himself. His legs are wide, and his face…

  Oh, I want to do this to Spencer.

  * * *

  Like a cat ready to pounce on her prey, I sit at the kitchen island in my sexy little nightdress.

  It’s 7:30 p.m., and I hate to admit it, but I watched people having sex for over an hour this afternoon. Soft sex, hard sex, messy and wet sex—all of it was hot. Damn, Sarah was right. I have been missing out.

  I sip my wine and smirk to myself. Who the hell am I?

  Working in a mailroom, sneaking men into my suite, watching porn, getting flowers and sitting here in sexy nightwear, waiting for the most gorgeous man of all time to come and cook me dinner.

  I feel so alive, like my whole life is just getting started.

  I hear the door open and my heart flips.

  “Charlotte?” Spencer calls, securing the chain in place on the door.

  I bound out of the kitchen. The second he sees me, he drops the shopping bags that were in his hands, and he smiles broadly. I laugh and jump up at him, loving the way he wraps his big arms around me when he catches me and lifts my feet from the floor.

  “Hello, Mr Spencer.” I smile.

  We kiss and his tongue slowly slides between my waiting lips.

  “I’ll send you flowers every fucking day if this is the hello I get.”

  I giggle. “Thank you.”

  We kiss again and again, and Lord, I need him. He walks me backwards to the lounge and falls onto the sofa so I can straddle him.

  He looks up at me. “You’re different,” he whispers.

  “I feel different.”

  His hands slide under my nighty and over my bare hips. “I like this… different.”

  “Hmm,” I murmur as I rub myself over his hard cock.

  All my arousal from the last hour of porn has me ready to explode. I kiss him with an urgency like never before. His eyes flash with arousal, and his tongue dances with mine. The kiss is deep, slow, and long, and my body begins to grind over his hard cock, taking on a rhythm of its own.

  I can’t hold it. I want to do this, and I want to do it now.

  I drop to the floor, positioning myself between his legs, and he inhales sharply, completely shocked.

  Our eyes lock.

  I want to suck him. I want to bring him undone. I slide the zipper of his jeans down and he frowns, confused by my sudden show of bravery. I hardly touched him last time we were together.

  He lifts his hand to cup my face, and I tug at his pants a little harder. I want this. Eventually, he stands and takes them off, and I lift his T-shirt over his head.

  “Jesus,” he mutters.

  I rub his shaft through his briefs and his eyes flutter.

  “Fucking hell, those roses are miracle workers. I’ll buy the fucking company tomorrow.”

  I giggle and lick my lips, sliding down his boxers before I push him back to his position on the sofa.

  I drop back down to the floor and kiss up his thigh.

>   His scent intoxicates me, and this is the hottest thing I’ve ever done.

  His places his hands to the back of my head carefully. “Fuck,” he whispers.

  I look at his dick. It’s hard, engorged, and so thick. I don’t know what I’m doing here, but I’m going to go with what I watched today.

  I lick the top and his hands slide to my face. With our eyes locked, I slowly take him in my mouth, enjoying the way he hisses in approval.

  “Tell me if I do it right,” I whisper around him.

  “Angel, you’re doing it fucking perfect.” He brushes my hair back from my face.

  I take him deeper and deeper, and my eyes close when I get a taste of his pre-ejaculate. It’s salty and different to anything I’ve ever tasted before.

  I get into a rhythm and begin to work him with my hand. His body relaxes and he lies back against the couch.

  “Fucking hell,” he moans.

  I work harder and harder. His hips are rising to meet my rhythm. I place my fingers around his balls and he shudders.

  “Stop that or I’ll come.”

  I smile around him, and I do it again. Spencer shudders and his eyes roll back in his head.

  “Get up here,” he growls.

  I ignore him and keep sucking him until he pulls me off, guiding me so that I’m kneeling over him. He swipes his fingers though my flesh.

  “Holy fuck, you’re dripping wet,” he whispers.

  I moan against his lips, circling my hips to work myself onto his fingertips.

  “Condoms,” he groans, sounding pained. “Oh shit, stop right there,” he demands at once. He pushes me off him and runs up the stairs two at a time. Moments later he returns with a box of condoms. I watch as he carefully rolls one on and then he falls back into place on the sofa.

  “Where were we?” He smiles.

  His excitement is infectious, and I kneel over him again with my hands on his shoulders. His fingers find that spot between my legs, and his eyes close as he enjoys the way I feel for him.

  “You are so fucking hot,” he growls.

  I wiggle my hips so he knows that I want it. Our kiss turns frantic and he bites my nipple hard through my nightdress, making me yelp.

  This untamed aggression in him is new.

  I like it.

  He holds the base of his cock up and positions me over him. I frown and come down onto him a little.

  Fuck, he’s so big.

  “Wiggle from side to side,” he tells me.

  I shimmy and he puts his thumb over my clitoris, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. I moan deeply, unable to keep my eyes from closing.

  “That’s it, angel, ride my cock.”

  Hearing him say that does something to my insides, and I shudder as I am flooded with wetness.

  “Fuck, yeah,” he growls. “You like me talking dirty to you, baby. Do you?”

  I continue to wiggle down to get him in.

  “You open up that creamy cunt, angel, and let me in. I’m going to give you what you need.” He bites my bottom lip and I jump. He grabs my hips and pulls me down on him with force. “I’m going to blow your fucking mind with this cock of mine.”

  Goose bumps scatter my skin, and he grabs a handful of my hair, guiding my head back so his mouth can ravage mine. The kiss is out of control.

  This is so different than the other times—so much better.

  We keep struggling, trying to find a way for my body to accept all of him.

  “Open!” he commands, pulling my hips down hard. As if my body understands who’s in control, it opens, and he slides all the way in.

  Our mouths drop open together, and we stay silent, just staring at each other.

  Thump, thump, thump goes my heart.

  He’s so deep inside of me, so big, and so perfect.

  “Did you miss me today, angel?” he whispers.

  I nod, overwhelmed by the feeling of him. “Yes.”

  “Does my girl need to be fucked hard when she’s missed me?”

  I nod, I can’t even talk. This feeling is incredible. “Yes,” I whisper. “So hard.”

  He lifts my hips and slams me back down at once, forcing me to cry out.

  Oh shit…

  Why did I say that for?

  Spencer starts pumping me, hard. His hands are gripping and moving me with such force that the air is knocked out of my lungs.

  But he wouldn’t be able to tell, because he’s totally lost all control.

  His mouth is hanging open and his lips are roaming from my jaw to my nipples to my lips.

  “Legs up.” He bites my nipple, paralysing me further.

  I lift my legs, and he slams me back down again.

  “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he growls as he works.

  I shudder, the feeling of him taking over me.

  “Spencer,” I pant. I grip his arms for balance, the muscles there bulging as he lifts me.

  Fuck, this is too hard… but too good.

  I lurch forward and scream out as he slams me harder. The sound of our skin slapping echoes around my apartment, and Spencer tips his head back and groans as he comes deep inside of me. I feel his dick jerk as it empties out.

  My heart is hammering in my chest and I’m struggling to catch my breath.

  Honestly, this euphoric feeling he gives me with an orgasm is the best thing I’ve ever experienced.

  He lifts me off him carefully, positioning me so I’m sitting upright, and he pushes my legs open.

  Huh? What’s he doing?

  He drops between my legs, and I hold my breath, watching him as his tongue swipes through my swollen, hot flesh.

  “I want your orgasm on my tongue,” he whispers darkly.

  Holy fuck.

  I put my hand on the back of his head and I watch him lick me up and down. His eyes are closed and it’s like he’s worshipping me. For ten minutes, he sucks and licks at me like I’m his last supper.

  This can’t be happening. This is too good.

  He shuffles forward and I can see that he’s still hard.

  “I need you again, angel.”

  I nod, my arousal tearing through my veins.

  He picks me up and rolls me over so that I’m on my knees on the couch. I hear him opening another condom packet. His hand runs up and down my back and behind, and then he grabs a handful of my hair and pulls me back, easing himself in.

  “Jesus Christ, Charlotte. You’re blowing my fucking mind here, baby.”

  I smile, half in relief, half with fear.

  And when he starts, I can only hold on as he takes what he needs from my body.

  Which is everything.

  This time, he lets go, and he’s loud, moaning and groaning as much as he wants. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard. His body is wet with perspiration.

  “So. Fucking. Tight.” He grunts again and again.

  I close my eyes and try to deal with him. This is hard. God, so hard.

  His grip on my hair becomes painful and I cry out.

  “Come now!” he yells.

  “Ah!” I cry. He’s an animal.

  “Clench for me, angel. Clench and you’ll come. Trust me.”

  I do as I’m told, and sure enough, it spirals, and I begin to convulse. He holds himself still, so deep inside of me, and he cries out. I feel his cock shudder before he falls forward.

  We both pant in time with each other. We’re wet with perspiration, and I find myself smiling into the cushion on the sofa.

  “Holy shit,” I whisper.

  He chuckles as his lips kiss the side of my face tenderly. “You will wear that nightdress every night from now on.”

  I giggle, breathless as the two of us rest cheek to cheek. “Yes, sir.”

  * * *

  It’s later that night, and Spencer and I are facing each other in bed. My hand is in his, and he has this satisfied, dreamy look on his face. We showered and he washed me in that way I’m getting used to. He cooked me dinner and we watched a movie
.

  Now this.

  This is something else. There’s a bond I can’t explain. It’s like I already know him, like I’ve always known him. The room is lit only by the lamp, neither of us wanting to go to sleep.

  “You know, when you smile your dimples go from here,” he reaches over and touches my face, “to here.”

  I smile on cue and turn my head to kiss his fingertips.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever smiled so much in one day,” I admit in a whisper.

  He leans in and kisses me softly, his hands snaking around my waist to pull me to him.

  “Me either.” He stares at me for a moment, as if he’s contemplating saying something else.

  “What is it?”

  He frowns. “This is new for me.”

  “What is?”

  He rolls onto his back and brings me with him. I lie with my head on his chest, rubbing my cheek back and forth on his skin.

  “I feel like I…”

  “What?”

  “I can’t stand the thought of…” His voice trails off.

  “Spencer?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” He kisses my forehead. “It’s nothing.”

  “No, tell me,” I urge. “What were you going to say?”

  “Who did you sleep with Charlotte?”

  What the hell is he thinking about this for?

  “Why does that matter?” I ask.

  “I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “It just does.”

  Should I tell him? No, don’t wreck this.

  “He doesn’t matter to me,” I tell him.

  “Are you sure?”

  I frown as I look up and watch him. What’s going through that mind of his? “Spence, why are you thinking about me with another man?”

  He exhales heavily. “Because I don’t like it.”

  “Like what?”

  “Feeling jealous.”

  I lean in and kiss his big soft lips. His tongue slowly slides through my open mouth, and that addictive feeling is there again.

  Closeness.

  “There’s nothing wrong with a little jealousy. I would be worried if you didn’t care.” I run my fingers through his messy blond hair.

  He frowns at the ceiling as if processing my words.

  “Does it normally bother you if a woman you are seeing has been with another?” I ask.