Authors: Diana Steele
Her forehead came to rest against his, short pants caressing his lips as he looked into her eyes. Feeling how her muscles contracted and released around him, the heat of her. The way her hips shifted, ever so slightly.
“Close?” he husked.
Her forehead rubbed against his,
He moved his hand, intent on seeking her folds, that nub that when stroked right pushed her over, every time, but she stopped him.
“No want to… ugh… just hang here for a moment, let it ease.”
He pulled her closer his own body trembling with the desire to move, to turn her over and give it to her any which way, yet he held her. Felt her body shift slightly, felt her muscles close around him and release him as she started to move drawing gasps from him as the movements became stronger. The familiar tingling again overtook his body she pushed back, her hands bracing on his shoulders, his own instinctively moving back to brace him. He looked at her, her head already flung back as she started to ride him, harder.
“Yes, fuck, that’s where you belong.” She gasped.
His gaze dropped to her hips his own instinctively bucking against her as he watched his cock slip in and out of her.
Her body stiffened her movements became more jerk like. He pushed up, lifting his buttocks off the bunk slightly, holding his body taught as her hands gripped his shoulders her head falling forward as she grunted her frustration. Her hips bucked a few more times before her entire body went stiff her head falling back as she keened her pleasure, pressed against him more, her hips rocking in time with the tightening pulses around his cock.
Her head came back up, her eyes fully glazed as she opened them, he lowered himself back to the bunk, pulled her close and then flipped them. He wanted his, knew if he pushed hard enough she would have another. His head pressed against her shoulder as he began to move, at first slowly, just enough to warn her and then he pulled back, lunging forwards, their pelvises connecting hard, drawing a lustful moan from her, “More.”
Her legs wrapped around his hips, and pulled back lunging forward again and again, lost to everything but the sensation, the musky smell that filled the air and her encouraging grunts and moans.
He nipped at her neck, his body already tingling, the familiar tightening low in his balls.
“Wanna fuck me all night?” He grunted, against her skin, needing her answer, needing to know it was not going to be the last time, But also knowing it would send her over.
“Yes,” she gasped her hands suddenly reaching for his buttocks, “Oh god, yes!” she called as he again felt it, tugging at him.
“Ride it,” he husked moments before his own body tightened, his pelvis slapping hard against hers several times before his head pulled back, pushing down on her as hard as he could, and releasing an animalistic growl. Pleasure, white-hot filled him, pulses intense blinding shot through his body, his hips undulating against her as he emptied himself within her. His body trembling as it stilled over hers.
It was no different, every time had been like that.
He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to part, because if he did he would have to face the “thereafter” something he was not yet ready to do.
He felt her fingers trace patterns along his back. His arms pained from the effort it took to keep his weight off her.
“No regrets,” he whispered against her neck.
“With you, never.” She replied her legs moving from him, allowing him to move.
He shifted on to one elbow, the angle awkward as his hand ran along her side, “You get a lot of sleep last night?”
She looked at him confused for a moment, smiling, as she teased him. Reaching down to squeeze his buttocks, as he slipped from her. “I’ll give my stud a run for his money.”
Good he said suddenly lifting from her. Regaining his feet and stumbling back a few paces when they seemed incapable of holding his weight. He lent against the wall as he looked at her.
She made to move but he held his hand up to stop her. “No, don’t move. You have no idea how good things look from here. He took himself in hand, give me a few minutes.”
“See anything you like?” she teased brushing her fingers over herself
He could not speak, had to swallow several times before he could croak out “Yes,” His cock swelling in his hand.
She moved slightly, and he wanted to object, only to gasp as she pulled her legs further open for him, her fingers caressing her folds, she dropped her head back and released am soft moan, that went straight to his cock.
“I want my stud,” she challenged him, causing his fist to tighten around his cock. I was hard but not fully. He knew it would do for what he wanted.
He stepped closer, took her one ankle and pushed it over, slapping her on the buttock. Commanding firmly, “On your knees filly.” She shifted quickly standing in position looking back at him. It was another thing he liked about her; she was playful in bed.
He took his still hardening cock in his hand and guided it into her.
“Not hard yet,” she teased.
He reached forward to her shoulders, pulling her upright until her back was flush with his chest, his one arm wrapping around her the other slinking down to her tufts.
“Hard enough to do this,” he grunted as he pulsed slowly with his hips, “You gonna feel me harden, while I fuck you, for hours little filly.”
He felt her body soften against his, moments before she gasped, “You’ll make me cum just by talking to me.”
“Not gonna, do that,” he said his cock again pulsing inside her, “This little filly needs to learn what happens when she teases a stallion.”
“God and what a stallion he is,” she gasped as he again started speeding up his thrusts.
They dropped to the bunk two hours later, weary, temporarily sated. Their limbs still entwined as he cast a blanket over them, partially.
She moved her hand to his cock. He wanted to stop her, he was sore from their marathon fuck, yet he still felt it respond to her touch, the tingles starting anew.
Even if she could get him fully aroused that way, he was too tired for another round. She must have known because she let him go. Possessively whispering. “This is my cock, my stud.”
Without thought he answered, “Yes, all yours, you can ride him again in the morning.”
“Good, now sleep. Your filly is tired.”
He woke the following morning, to find the space next to him empty. His body felt light, amazing, although several aches and pains became obvious when he moved.
He sat up, looking about the small space. Her clothes and her backpack were gone. On the sideboard there was a note that read: “
Thanks for the ride of my life. Gone home, look after yourself
.”
He felt the heavy sensation settle over his heart, an emptiness again filled him. He dropped his face into his palms and took a deep breath, trying to figure out what he should do next.
Diana Steele
Copyright © 2014
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This book is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
DISCLAIMER
Please don’t be stupid and kill yourself. This book is a work of FICTION. Do not try any new sexual practice that you find in this book. It is fiction and not to be confused with reality. Neither the author nor the publisher or its associates assume any responsibility for any loss, injury, death or legal consequences resulting from acting on the contents in this book. Every character in this book is over 18 years of age. The author’s opinions are not to be construed as the opinions of the publisher. The material in this book is for entertainment purposes ONLY. Enjoy.
*****
“Damn it!” he slammed his fist on top of the mahogany desk. It shook slightly, and a small clock toppled over. He ignored it and stalked over to the window. For the first time in a long time, he felt as if things were not going his way. That bothered him. It bothered him a lot. He’d only managed to acquire a medical equipment manufacturing company in Japan six months ago, and now it seemed to be falling apart.
“This isn’t happening!” He hissed. “Not again.”
Designing and manufacturing medical equipment was his lifelong dream. His success depended on this company. Not that Alexander Masterson was anything less than successful. He was driven, and the more he thrived, the harder he pushed himself. However, this company was supposed to be the beginning of new things. He had developed a prototype that would revolutionize DNA analysis. This was supposed to make Alexander Masterson the best medical equipment designer and manufacturer in the world.
He’d made a name for himself in the three years since he graduated from Harvard with a Master of Engineering degree. With the small inheritance he got from a great aunt and the money he made during college, he started his own business sourcing rare but essential medical equipment, designing medical software, and his latest project, a DNA analysis software.
Employee espionage was serious business. It meant that you couldn’t trust anyone completely. His first business venture while in college turned out the same way. It was a small but lucrative business he’d started with someone he considered a friend. His business partner took all his secrets, ideas, and even customers along with him and joined forces with another company. His partner had been spying on his designs for months and selling them to his competitor.
He had started over. It wasn’t like him to cave in and give up. Alexander worked hard to build his business up from the ground. He wasn’t about to let anyone ruin it. His latest design, a machine that would help millions of cancer patients, was leaked to his biggest competitor in Japan. He felt betrayed… again.
From his office window high up in International Place, he stared unseeing over High Street and out to Boston Harbor as he mulled over his situation. He was among the best and most successful entrepreneurs in Boston. He could not afford to fail. International Place sat at the epicenter of the business district and was the largest in the Financial District.
It was the fall of 2013, and the leaves on the maple were turning red. It had rained earlier that afternoon. There were still dark clouds scattered across the sky, which signaled more rain. His six-foot frame leaned against the metal side panel holding the shatterproof glass pane. His jacket was lying on the back of the sofa, and his tie was hanging on the back of his leather chair. Alexander ran a hand through his thick crop of brown hair while his hazel eyes continued to observe the traffic on the street below.
As he lifted his hand his shirt stretched over his biceps. They bulged beneath the fabric. His other hand had absently been pushed inside his pants pocket. It was close to five thirty. The office was almost empty except for his assistant. As he watched the street below he thought of his assistant and how she could make him feel better. The tension had to be released somehow, and she was perfect at that. He moved away from the window and walked towards his desk where he proceeded to buzz her office, still ignoring the clock, which was lying face down.
“Clarinda, I need you,” it was a simple statement but it held a lot of weight. She knew exactly what he wanted and hesitated not in her reply.
“Yes, Xander, I’ll be right there,” her soothing voice replied through the receiver.
He was all worked up and a hard-on was proving just how much. He paced the floor while waiting the few minutes it would take her to reach his office. A minute passed, and he went back to the window. She was probably freshening up for him, he thought.
He was becoming impatient and was about to buzz for her again when the door softly opened, and a blonde woman in her mid-twenties entered. She was wearing a white pantsuit that fitted her curves perfectly. The jacket opened up to reveal her pink blouse. Her pink pouting lips smiled as she entered.
“You took long enough!” His voice was strained and raised a pitch. He was not scolding her and she knew it. She could hear the impatience in his voice.
“I was freshening up,” she started to say then when she saw him unbuckle his belt she stopped. Her nipples hardened beneath her pink blouse and strained against the fabric of her bra. She was always amazed at how the very thought of Alexander could make her feel. Xander could see their imprints. He liked that, and he grew harder.
“You sure know how to welcome a girl,” she teased. He forced a grin, “And what should I do with that?” she asked.
He wasn’t in the mood for jokes, but the anticipation of her mouth on his cock gave him hope that he would feel better soon. He stood in the middle of the office. Without another word, Clarinda fell to her knees at the same time his pants fell softly to the ground. He was wearing nothing beneath his grey slacks. His manhood stood at attention.
A little throb developed deep in her belly. She felt hot down there, but this was not her time, she knew that. Alexander needed to relax so she knelt like a good little girl and curled her fingers around his thickness. She always loved the way he felt in her hands. The bumps and ridges of his shaft provided good friction whether he was inside her mouth or her vagina.
She moaned softly as she kissed the tip of his shaft. He groaned and thrust his hips forward. The movement caused his erection to slap her mouth. She opened up just a little to take in the head, she sucked and pulled away. Xander gripped the back of her head and guided her back. She did not resist and opened up fully. He thrust his cock deep into her mouth and she started sliding her wet lips over its length, making sure to curl her tongue around it at the same time. It was a skill she developed over the years of knowing her “master.” Gradually she took him in more and more until her lips were resting in the base of his pelvis, and the head of his cock was halfway down her throat. She retracted and pulled him in again and again, each time doing her trick with her tongue.
Xander was getting impatient, and there was no release in sight. His shaft was getting thicker but he felt like his mind was not in it. Angrily he pulled away and pulled his pants up. “You can finish that later,” he ordered.
Clarinda wasn’t hurt, she knew his moods. Lately there were lots of them. She stood and straightened her clothes. He had gone to stand by the window, so she quietly left the room and returned to her office. Shortly after, she heard him leave. About five minutes later, she left as well and headed straight home.
He thought that a blowjob would do the trick. Of course, Clarinda was the best, and he always felt quite relaxed when she worked her magic. However, today was different. This wasn’t a sexual tension, not really, though he had a hard-on. He needed more of a mental release than a physical one. Lately everything seemed off, and he needed to figure out why. How did he end up being so successful yet so terribly unfulfilled?
“Unfulfilled?” he asked himself, surprised, as he pulled out of his parking space. He’d sat in his Bugatti Veyron Sport car for what seemed like ten minutes when he saw Clarinda got into her silver BMW and drive out. He knew she was heading home, and his heart gave a little lurch at the thought.
He had come to depend on Clarinda more than he thought. His foot hit the gas as he touched the auto ignition. As he slowly pulled onto the main street his mind went back a few years. Maybe that’s where this all began, he thought. “Was there something I missed?” He asked himself.
He drifted back to when he was twenty-two, a senior at Boston College with a scholarship, on the honor roll and a part of the rugby team. It was a rare combination of brains and athleticism, and Xander soon became a sensation as a jock. His prowess on the field, however, was no match for his mind as he was drawn closer to the technology behind the science of medicine. He excelled at his studies and was a star in his own right. He knew when to play the jock card and when to put on his science hat.
On the side, he made money by repairing medical equipment. He was so good at it that he was called by even Boston General to look at a machine their technician could not repair. Everything was going great, and he looked forward to continuing his studies at Harvard when he graduated.
His foot pressed the gas, and the car picked up speed. The red and black Bugatti was the latest model, sleek and sexy with a 16-cylinder engine and over 1000 horsepower. He loved the sheer power of the machine. It fit him well as he liked to be in control. The engine purred as the vehicle gained traction on the smooth pavement in the North End tunnel.
As the car accelerated, so did his mind.
*****
It was late spring, and he had had a good day at practice. He had been looking forward to a nice evening alone with his computer when the knock came. He didn’t mind, it was extra cash, and he needed the money. He opened the door to greet another player from his team.
“Hey John, what’s up?” He asked. John had called earlier to tell him about a small job away from campus to fix some sort of medical equipment.
“That job I told you about, a car is waiting for you.”
“A car? They sent a car for me?” he asked Paul.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Nope, just surprised, that’s all.”
When he left his dorm, it was around six thirty, and a black sedan was waiting outside his building. As he tentatively approached, the driver stepped from the vehicle and opened the back passenger door. Alexander stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the short skirt accentuating attractive legs of the pretty, dark-haired chauffeur. Her breasts were full. The two top buttons of her white blouse opened, revealing ample amounts of flawless skin. Her dark jacket closed with a single button just below her breasts. The jacket helped to accentuate their fullness.
*****
As he exited the tunnel, he continued to recall that evening in May. It was an evening much like this, cool and damp, except this was October.
*****
Xander had left the dorm wearing jeans and his rugby jacket. As he got into the car, he couldn’t help but feel that something big was about to happen. Maybe it was his optimistic attitude, or the fact that he was a natural opportunist.
He asked her name and she replied in a soft voice, “Diana.”
She glanced at him with her big brown eyes through the rear view mirror then quickly lowered them.
He told her his name, and she glanced at him once more. He saw she was a little uncomfortable, so he talked about the weather. He knew it was cliché, but she began to relax. He decided not to ask any questions about his employer. His instincts told him that she wouldn’t answer him anyway, so he was still in the dark as to where they were going when the sedan turned unto a private road. At that point he had no idea where he was headed or whom he would meet. They reached the house in fifteen minutes. He smiled to himself when he realized how fast she’d driven to get there.
He was awestruck when they entered the driveway and stopped behind a line of cars. The house was huge…no…a mansion, he mentally noted. There were vast gardens beyond the driveway, immaculately kept, with a fountain in the center. He could hear music and chatter coming from inside. As he followed her to the front door, he felt a bit of excitement. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt that something was about to happen and it wasn’t going to be a bad thing.
*****
He slowed down as he entered the Charles River area but picked up speed again when he approached the bridge. He was thinking of how his life changed to that day.
*****
Diana led him through a foyer and through a door away from the obvious party going on inside.
As they entered a large study a man turned and walked over. He was tall, dressed in a blue and white cardigan and cream-colored slacks asked, “Are you the student?”
“Yes sir,” he replied.
The man was distinguished looking with graying hairs at his temple and dark piercing eyes. Alexander felt he was in the presence of someone with power. The owner of the study’s jet black hair was slicked back and he carried a gold-tipped cane. He didn’t seem to need it as he walked just fine. Alexander assumed it was for show. He could tell that the man was the master of the mansion.
“I’m Garret Stone. Follow me.” In a corner of the room was a large Electrocardiogram machine, usually used in hospitals. This machine is used for monitoring of the heart rate. Alexander thought that there was someone in the house who needed it, so he asked no questions.
He didn’t wait for Garret to tell him what to do. He switched the thing on and immediately noticed a buzzing sound. Also, the monitor was fuzzy. Garret told him it had been doing that lately and asked him if he thought he could fix it. Garret also told him that two other technicians had failed to fix it, but he heard that Alexander was a genius at fixing things.
“I’m no genius,” Xander laughed and turned to the machine.