Money Shot (70 page)

Thinking about him and reliving it had my pussy tingling all over again. I’d been honest when I told him he would be the star of my fantasies. I pressed my hand gently against my pussy, warming my clit and taking care not to put pressure on the bits that felt sore. I wondered if I could make myself come without fingering my g-spot. Clitoral orgasms were difficult to achieve. I slipped my finger into my knickers, finding my little clit already swollen just from the effect of my thoughts. It wasn’t wet enough so I brought my finger up to my mouth, licking, and then delving back down to get to work. As I rubbed myself in tight little circles I thought about my stranger; snapshots of memories, the way he walked towards me in the bar like a panther in a grey suit, the way he’d used his ankles to spread my thighs and his voice when he told me to take off my underwear. Oh, and his eyes and the way they burnt where ever they looked, affecting me almost a strongly as a physical touch.

My clit was swelling nicely and I sped up, arching my back, moving my hips as I chased my pleasure, thinking about his tongue on my pussy, whisky covered, heat and friction and the coldness of the bottle pushing inside me. Oh…

I came so hard just from my one little finger and a mind full of filthy thoughts inspired by a man whose name was still a mystery. It was blissful and empty all at the same time.

In the bathroom, I studied my body, trying to see what he had seen. My hipbones were more prominent than I remembered, probably from all the days of being unable to eat after discovering Jonathan’s betrayal. My thinness suddenly angered me. Why had I punished myself when it had been him that had been at fault? I should have pampered myself, nurtured my soul with my favorite foods and wine and spent time with friends instead of languishing at home and drowning myself in work.

I had marks around my nipples where my stranger had nipped and pinched, and the ends of them were reddish-pink from his attentions. I ran my palms over them, remembering how it felt when he had cupped my breast at the end. It had been a possessive and affectionate gesture that didn’t really fit his MO. I put my foot on the basin and looked at my spread pussy, assessing the ‘damage’. It was red and swollen underneath; angry looking. He really did fuck me raw. My girl wasn’t angry though; she was greedy. She wanted more.

The shower was bliss on my aching muscles and soothed my sore flesh. I felt sad to wash all trace of him from my body, watching the water disappear in its plughole spiral, thinking about his sweat that was vanishing with it. As I toweled myself dry I felt a touch of sadness. Not a lot, just a hint. He had made a big impression on me in a way. He’d woken me up.

One night.

It would have to be enough.

I dressed to impress, in a black fitted skirt suit, pink blouse and my highest black heels. I needed to make a powerful impression to back up my sales pitch. I would usually have put on some sexy lingerie under an outfit like that but instead I wore simple cotton panties to avoid any unnecessary pressure on my tender lady parts. Applying flawless makeup and simple jewelry I wondered what the offices would be like. Black Gold Pharmaceuticals was a global operation but this was their head office. I suspected it would be clinical, with uber professional receptionists and glass lifts.

I had a light breakfast in the hotel restaurant; well, pancakes and fruit. Who can resist the allure of American buttermilk pancakes with a growling stomach? On my way out I had to walk past the hotel bar and I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the night before. I took a taxi to the offices of my client, computer in briefcase, professional and ready for my sales pitch.

As I expected, the offices were modern and Spartan. The tall glass building opened through revolving doors into an echoingly cavernous lobby area with clusters of Barcelona chairs, sleek glass tables and eclectic potted plants and statues. The employees that were heading in or out seemed efficient and professional. The receptionist was polite and immaculate—a cross between an air hostess and a make-up counter girl—and I was escorted to the meeting room where I would be meeting Roger Davidson, my longstanding contact who I had never met in person but had video-conferenced with regularly. I waited for fifteen minutes in the stark room, wondering what the holdup could be but as I shuffled back through my papers there was a brisk knock. I stood up and faced the door, hand ready to shake Roger’s but it wasn’t him entering the room with a wicked smile on his face.

“Rebecca,” said a deep and familiar voice that made the hairs on the back of my neck rise. “I’m Andrew Costner, CEO of Black Gold Pharmaceuticals. It’s so nice to finally put a face to a name.” He grinned at me broadly and I died a little inside. “Take a seat. Can I get you a tea or coffee?” When I flopped back on the chair in shocked horror, I forgot about my sore pussy and moaned when my bottom hit the hard surface. Andrew laughed. “Gin and tonic then, or shall we make it a whisky?”

It seemed my stranger wasn’t a stranger any longer and the look in his eyes told me he had plans for me that didn’t involve discussing software. I was suddenly in way over my head.

Andrew

If I admitted to knowing who Rebecca Radley was before I seduced her in the bar of a mediocre hotel, would you think badly of me? Would you think I abused my position? Would you think I acted unprofessionally?

Do you think I would give a shit if you answered yes?

Rebecca Radley was a small fish in a very big pool but by chance I’d seen her photo on LinkedIn, and a very nice head shot it was too. You might be asking what a man in my position was doing on social media. Let’s just say that it can be a useful tool for checking out your staff and I like to stay as hands on in that regard as possible. People are my thing. Reading them is how I became successful in my own right. The lovely Rebecca came up as a contact of one of my most loyal employees, but it was something about her glossy hair and far away eyes that made me take notice.

Attraction is a funny thing. Women can be beautiful and still do nothing for me. They can be stereotypically sexy and I will still pass them over. They can look innocent and it won’t interest me, have a sassy attitude and I’ll be looking elsewhere. I get bored easily and am as fickle as April weather.

So, you may ask, what inspired me to go after little Miss Radley? She wasn’t model beautiful or wealthy or educated to genius status. She didn’t look like my mother—God forbid! She just had that special little
something
that rocks my boat. It’s a personal thing. I like long dark hair, I like mysterious eyes that have depth and sadness, I like small features (button noses and dainty chins) and I like a woman with poise. The tiny photo of Rebecca on my screen had been enough for me to take interest. I’d left it open while I worked late in my office, pausing to glance up every so often, testing whether my initial interest had been a fluke. But each time I sought out her image my cock jerked.

My cock is a demanding thing. Sometimes I wonder how many of my decisions are driven by my head and how many by the throbbing thing in my boxers. He knows what he likes and seeks it out and I end up along for the ride! A couple of weeks passed, and he was still twitching whenever I thought about Rebecca. In passing, my employee Roger had mentioned he was expecting a visitor from the UK and I saw my chance. The days before she arrived I was distracted and I liked the feeling. I was prepared to take a chance. Well, a whole lot of chances really. I knew where she was staying but didn’t know that she would be in the bar. I just hoped that she would need a drink after a long flight. I didn’t know whether she would recognize me but realized almost immediately that she had no idea who I was. I didn’t know if I would like her as much in person as I liked her picture but it turned out she was a whole lot of perfect wrapped in a demure little bow.

Fuck! I’m getting hard just remembering the way she shimmied out of her little pink thong in a bar surrounded by people at my behest. It was damp when she rested it in my palm and I knew then that I would have her. If a man can make a woman wet without touching her, they have a pretty good chance of getting in her panties and up inside her cunt. I still have the lacy little number as a memento of our evening together. Do you think that’s perverse?

You guessed it…I don’t give a shit!

The journey up to her room was pure torture. I could feel Rebecca’s surrender before we even got into the elevator in the way she let me grope her ass in the open, where anyone could see. As we walked down the corridor she almost melted into a runny pool of desire. And inside her hotel room she learnt what I liked so quickly it was almost too perfect. She only tried to lead things once when her hands latched onto my belt buckled but one hint that it wasn’t what I wanted was enough to get her to comply. I could feel how much she loved it. She was buzzing, trembling. I loved being her anonymous lay. I could tell that she wasn’t accustomed to having sex with people she didn’t know. It was in her eyes; that hesitation before she slipped her room key across the table.

When I got her naked I couldn’t stop looking at her pussy and the way it flushed and flutter beneath my gaze. It came to life; clit stirring for attention, her dainty labia going from light to dark-rose pink, but it was watching her hole leak for me that made me harder than a rock. The smell of her—musky and sweet—and the taste drove me fucking wild. And when I pushed my cock into the tight, hot heat of her I felt like I might explode out of my own skin. Even though she was lightly restrained, she bucked against me like a woman possessed, body convulsing as she grabbed and scraped for her own pleasure.

She earned her orgasms.

The one on the end of a cold whisky bottle was spectacular but the one when I was buried inside her was like a fucking exorcism.

I don’t know how I lasted so long but I wanted to make good on my promise to give her something to remember. There was something so sad about her eyes that drove me to give her the best I had.

After the sex she seemed different; less docile, less compliant and with a determined edge to her voice. It wasn’t the sex that made me reveal myself the next day. It was her words
. You’ll be my dirty little secret.
That was what she said, and fuck me if it wasn’t a direct challenge. That might have been what she wanted but I’d changed my mind. The look on her face when I walked into the meeting room was priceless. I wished I had a camera. Well, that office has CCTV installed so I guess I’ll have it all on film for my later enjoyment.

I have dirty things on my mind and they all involve Rebecca Radley. I’m going to get my hands on her little tits again, pinch those nipples until she can’t bear any more. I’m going to slip my fingers into her panties and probe her most private place until I feel her shivering at my touch. I want to deny her pleasure and then give it to her until she can’t take it and begs me to stop.

Rebecca liked getting fucked by a stranger. Now that she knows who I am, we’ll have to take it up another notch.

And I know just how to do it.

The End

Get Part 2—Watched by a Stranger
HERE
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ABOUT HOLLY STONE