The Best of Kay Jaybee (5 page)

BOOK: The Best of Kay Jaybee
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Slipping back into his usual calm voice, Owen muttered so that only she could hear, ‘Don't worry, you'll love it. I promise,' before stepping back and roughly pulling off her sodden underwear.

Placing a hand on each of his colleague's shoulders, Owen steered them to the far corner of the room, leaving Pia to imagine what they were saying to each other.

After what seemed to have been a lifetime, the couriers strode purposefully back towards her, their faces creased with hunger and disbelief, as if neither of them could believe their luck. Standing at the edge of the cardboard, directly in front of Pia, the three men tore off their shirts. Pia's muffled gasp of appreciation turned to frustration at not being able to hold either her lover's chest, or the other toned torsos.

Abruptly, in one simultaneous move, Andy and Craig attached their mouths to Pia's breasts. The contrasting texture and pressure from each set of lips, kissing, licking and biting her, felt incredible. Shutting her eyes once more, Pia was grateful for the warm hands that not only snaked over her body, but also supported it, as her limbs shook against the cardboard.

Their digits were everywhere at once, between her legs, over her clit, behind her knees, on her neck, as though each man was on his own personal race against time to get as much out of the encounter as possible before Owen changed his mind about them fucking his girlfriend.

Her head swimming, bright colours exploded behind Pia's eyelids. All fear forgotten, her whole body began to tighten with a climax that coursed through her so quickly she thought she'd collapse.

Seeing her legs begin to buckle, Owen stepped forward and lowered Pia to the ground, ripping off her gag. Pia cried out as the tape plaster tore mercilessly at her skin, but the new vision before her more than made up for the moment's discomfort.

Andy and Craig had removed the rest of their clothes, and stood, towering over her naked body. The cardboard bed crackled beneath their combined weight and, with her hands still trapped uncomfortably behind her back, Pia braced herself.

The drivers glanced at each other, as if to confirm some previously discussed plan of action, before falling to their knees either side of her.

A pair of calloused hands flipped her onto her stomach, so that her head was buried in the boxes, and the overpowering scent of the card shot straight into Pia's nostrils, making her expel a protracted moan of need. Her previous orgasm was already forgotten, all that mattered was the next one.

Two hands grasped her buttocks, and two others pushed her legs up and out at the knees, so all her weight was centred on her face and shoulders as they dug into the rough bed. A pair of bare legs appeared before her. Owen had stripped.

Pia's blood pounded in her cricked neck as she felt a single finger begin to rub at her clit. She didn't care who the finger belonged to, just that it kept moving, as she mewled into the packaging.

Then her hands were picked up at the wrists, and one of the couriers plucked away the tape that bound Pia's wrists. She couldn't help but scream, as the sticky surface ripped minute hairs from her skin.

Without giving her time to adjust to her freedom, Pia was ordered to her hands and knees. A hand seized her ponytail and wrenched her neck high. Pia blinked at Craig's thickly erect dick, which hovered just out of reach. She longed to take it between her teeth; the thought of Owen watching her; of him wanting her to do this, making Pia hornier than ever.

With his cock in his hand, Craig began to play it around Pia's parted mouth. At the same time, she heard a condom packet being opened, and Andy came up behind her, grabbing her left hip with one hand, he began to tease his dick over and around her wet snatch with the other.

This was agony. Pia was desperate to engulf the shaft before her, but that would mean shifting fractionally forward and losing the touch of the cock brushing her from behind. At the same time, she urgently wanted to be full of the rod teasing her pussy, but didn't want to shift backwards and lose the fragile contact of the cock at her lips.

Pia could see Owen, a broad grin across his face, a palm wrapped around his penis as he slowly caressed it back and forth. Unconsciously, Pia began to rock against the cardboard in time to her lover's masturbation, so one second she was close to the cock at her mouth, the next, grazing against the one at her snatch.

With each movement, the need Pia felt to keep going increased, and she began to speed up, working herself off against the two men, who somehow managed to keep still as her tongue flicked over the tip of one, and her clit bumped the head of the other.

Her breasts swinging manically beneath her, there was no way Pia could stop now. With closed eyes, she was immersed in a world where only sensation mattered, where only the briefest touch of the two men, the smell of cardboard, and the sound of Owen's heavy breathing mattered.

Perspiration began to gather on her forehead and between her breasts. Suddenly it was too much, and Pia let out a strangled cry of frustration. She needed to be full. She needed two cocks inside her, and she needed them now.

Breaking the rhythm, she lunged forward and caught Craig's length between her teeth. Terrified he'd back away, Pia held him firmly in her throat. He didn't move however, but called out to Owen, ‘Fuck she's good.' While Andy shuffled forward, impaling her cunt in one swift move.

Pia's climax immediately hammered through her. Thrusting and pumping their friend's girl, both men were so consumed with the need to come themselves, they didn't seem to notice when Pia shuddered, her body jacking with pleasure. Pinioned between the drivers, her muscles slackened, and she only managed to remain on all fours, due to the pressure of their hard bodies, as each raced the other to spunk inside her first.

Her mouth filled with salty liquid, only seconds before Andy's dick exploded inside her snatch. Gulping frantically, Pia wasn't able to catch it all, and her chin dripped with seed as Craig pulled away from her face.

The moment the men were spent, they backed off, and Pia crashed to the squashed bed, panting hard.

Owen, his shaft still stiff in his hand, rolled Pia onto her back, and showered her chest with a warm rain of come. Then he turned to his colleagues and, with a nod of dismissal, they gathered their clothes and left.

Kneeling, Owen gently wiped the sweat from Pia's face, and cradled her in his arms, ‘You OK?'

Smiling up at him, she nodded.

‘You were amazing. Totally incredible.'

Her throat too dry to speak, Pia placed her head on his lap, and took a long deep breath, enjoying one final lungful of the scent of the cardboard bed, now improved by the lingering aroma of a fantastic double fuck.

Perks of the Job

Rachel shook slightly as she sent the text.
Do I have the correct number? Is that you, sir?

She cupped her hands around her mug of tea as she sat in the cheap and cheerful café, her gaze fixed on her phone – waiting with a stomach full of uncertainty for a reply.

Rachel nearly slopped its contents all over the plastic tablecloth as her mobile began to ring. She snapped her phone to her ear quickly, her heart thudding so hard she could feel its beat in the pulse of her neck. She hadn't expected a call. She had been sure that Ryan would stick to the more anonymous medium of the text message.

‘Yes, you do have the right number. Are you in the café as arranged?'

‘Yes.'

‘Right, this is what is going to happen.' His voice was a lot rougher than she'd ever heard it before. But then, Rachel thought as she pushed the phone closer to her ear, afraid that the few other café dwellers might accidently overhear what she was about to be told, he hasn't been turned on when we've talked before. She knew he was now everything about Ryan's tone spoke of a man with a hard-on. ‘Is the regular waitress there? The student one with the tits that are fighting to break out of her shirt, and the tight black cardigan that should make her look like an old maid, but actually makes her look like a hooker?'

Rachel lowered her voice further, worried the girl in question would hear her, ‘If you mean the one with brown hair and blonde streaks, then yes.'

‘I want you to stay sat
exactly
where you are. Fix your eyes on her. Picture her behind the counter. I am standing in front of her. You are behind her. I want you to imagine her on all fours. My cock is in her mouth. I want to watch your face as she brings me off. How does it feel? Tell me now. How would seeing that make you feel?'

Colour infused Rachel's face. As she watched the waitress move around behind the counter, sorting out glasses and bottles of cola, Rachel tried not to make her observation of the younger girl's movements obvious.

Even though Ryan wasn't there, Rachel felt as though his eyes were unwaveringly on her. There was something about him she knew her boss was dangerous, she knew he was taking advantage of the fact that she needed to earn some extra cash, and yet that seemed to arouse her rather than annoy her.

It didn't take much effort for Rachel to visualise the waitress on her hands and knees, her short black skirt hooked up over her hips and backside, her thong in tatters on the floor, and her tights ripped in the haste of their removal. Ryan had his combats at his ankles, his boxers yanked to one side to allow his solid erection room to manoeuvre towards the lapping and sucking mouth of the café girl.

‘Talk to me, dirty girl. Tell me right now, I don't have much time.' Ryan's voice seemed to be coming from further and further away as Rachel began to see the image he'd created for her with growing clarity. ‘Tell me, bitch, how does it feel?'

‘Can't I text you instead?'

‘No.'

Conscious of being overheard, Rachel murmured, ‘But someone might hear me!'

‘We had a deal.'

Rachel swallowed. They did have a deal.

Speaking so she was only just audible, picking up the grease-spotted menu that had been languishing before her, using it to hide her mouth from those on the neighbouring tables, she began, ‘My tits are so hard. I can see everything as though it was really happening I really can. You're pounding into her; I can feel her arse pushing back against my legs with each thrust you make. Her body is rocking, but she doesn't want to stop, and I know from the eager noises coming from the corners of her mouth that, despite her messed-up state, she's loving it.'

‘Are you wet? Right now as you sit there, are your knickers sticking to your nasty little snatch?'

Caught up in the hungry pace of his voice, Rachel nodded as well as spoke, almost forgetting this was a conversation over the phone and not in person. She had to remind herself that she couldn't really feel the touch of his rough hands against her chest, as much as she longed to. ‘I am. My jeans are beginning to get damp. My liquid isn't being held by my panties alone.' She took a deep breath, and carried on her narration. ‘I have my gaze hooked into yours as the waitress milks you off. You don't say anything, but I know what you want me to do, and so I bend a little, smacking the rounded flesh of her arse with the flat of my hand.'

The voluble gasp from the other end of the phone told Rachel that she had judged her caller's fantasy correctly. ‘As I spank her, she shifts forwards, her throat taking your dick in deeper. As you push your hips harder, she gags a little, and her butt comes back to my waiting hand, which strikes her once more, leaving a pleasing pink patch of flesh in its wake.'

‘Then what will you do?' He didn't have to tell Rachel that he was wanking; she could tell. She sped up her erotic scenario, unsure how she was going to prevent herself from coming in sympathy with him, and thus giving the café customers more in-house entertainment than that establishment had seen in years.

‘I have knelt down. My hand is burning so I've stopped the spanking, but I am running my hand over her rump while I slip a finger inside her.'

The waitress behind the counter had turned towards a new customer, and while Rachel whispered to Ryan, she could see the battle that the girl's chest was having beneath her works blouse, not to burst free against the strain.

A fresh gush of pussy juice escaped from Rachel's channel, and she knew she had to finish her kinky commentary fast. ‘Her muscles have tightened around my finger, and I'm easing my thumb around so it can push against her nub.' A ripple of intense desire shot from Rachel's chest to her crotch as she kept talking, her voice urgent. ‘I'm flicking her clit now, and
oh my God
, she is gonna come! I'm stroking my free hand inside my own knickers so I can rub myself off as well. Fuck, that feels good. You should see her face, she is so beautiful when she's climaxing.'

‘Shit, girl.' A suppressed groan issued from Ryan's throat, and for a moment or two the line went faint, as if he could no longer keep his hand on his phone, but had other places where his fingers were needed.

Rachel was surprised to find herself panting, and even more surprised to find herself sat on her own in a busy greasy spoon, the oblivious subject of her shared sexual fantasy now wiping off sticky table tops with an unpleasant-smelling detergent.

‘You OK?' Now that he'd come, Ryan's voice had returned to its usual light, casual tone.

Gathering herself together, managing to keep the speed of her pulse and the unexpected need for her boss' touch to herself, Rachel spoke with commendable calm. ‘Apart from sitting in a puddle of my own juice, I'm fine. You?'

‘Hell yes. I knew you'd be good at this. I have just come like you wouldn't believe.'

Infused with a perverse pride at having made Ryan shoot his load by the force of their combined imaginations alone, Rachel asked, ‘So, where are you?'

‘Lay-by on the A4. I'm on my way to paint a kitchen.'

‘A lay-by? You're kidding me!'

‘Nope, I just came all over the kerb.'

‘Really?'

Ryan laughed down the phone, ‘Yes, really. Look, I have to go now but I look forward to hearing from you very, very soon.'

The phone went dead, and Rachel cradled it in her hands for a few seconds, staring into the still full, but now cold mug of tea. Her crotch felt hot, and her hands felt cold. She had never wanted sex more. Not daring to risk eye contact with the waitress in case she could somehow read her mind, Rachel put the correct money for her drink on the table and headed outside.

The air felt as though it was teasing her flesh. Leaning back against a nearby lamp post, Rachel fumbled in her pocket, and took out her mobile. Well, he had said he wanted to hear from her very soon.

Got sodden pussy. Had to leave cafe cos couldn't stop looking at waitress. You are a dirty sod.

Heading towards the little office where she worked for Ryan's small painting and decorating business, between 11 o'clock and 2 o'clock every day, Rachel tried to clear her mind and concentrate on the pile of filing and letters that would be waiting for her attention. But Rachel found her eyes kept glancing at her mobile. At the forefront of her mind was Ryan, with his emulsion-spattered overalls and his wicked smile, and her body's requirement for some satisfaction of its own.

The text came through as she sat at her little desk.

At 2pm I will text you again. No wanking off in the meantime!

Rachel swallowed hard for the second time that day, and the pulse that had calmed from a sprint to a race in her chest suddenly skyrocketed. Squeezing her legs together, she desperately tried to deny her need to wank. She had always fancied Ryan a bit, but she had never believed he could make her feel like this.

It had been three days ago, when Rachel had been having a moan to her boss about how she really needed to earn some extra money. Ryan had been sympathetic to her need to pay the bills, but had shaken his head, saying he'd happily employ her for more hours, but he simply didn't have the additional work for her to do. She could already do everything that was required in her three hours a day. Rachel remembered how Ryan had become quiet then; the flirty banter they'd always shared distant for a moment, until he quietly suggested that maybe she could earn some money from him in a totally different way.

He hadn't asked her to sleep with him for money, but had suggested that maybe she would like to give him text sex, phone sex, something good to think about when he was painting endless stretches of magnolia onto pensioner's walls. “A perk of the job”, he'd called it.

She'd laughed, embarrassed but he'd known she was interested. Something about Ryan's proposition intrigued her, appealing to the naughty streak she had kept to herself for far too long. In the past Rachel had considered making a play for him; but he was her boss, and there had to be rules. Now, however, the rules were being broken and for the fee of an extra hour's wage a day.

The time at her desk usually flew by. Answering customer calls, arranging quotes for painting jobs, sorting out his chaotic accounts, and singing along to the music on the radio, safe in the knowledge that no one else was being subjected to her awful voice. Today, however, Rachel's work seemed slow and inefficient. Talking sternly to herself, she reminded herself that this was just a business arrangement; and that if it got in the way of her proper work Ryan would get rid of her, and then she'd be in real financial trouble.

After a lifetime, two o'clock came round, and Rachel's mobile beeped into life.

Take your clothes off.

Rachel blinked as she read the text did she really have to take them off, or was this just pretend?

Are they off yet?

Texting back
Yes,
even though all she had done was remove her jumper, Rachel felt the twitch at her groin remind her of how damp her knickers had been earlier.

Good. Get on your hands and knees in front of the desk.

Sitting cross-legged on the dusty floor carpet, the secretary typed,
Ready
.

In one minute I am going to call you. Place the phone so it can go on to loud speaker so I can hear you, and you can hear me, but you don't need to use your hands.

A frisson of fresh desire shot up Rachel's spine, and suddenly she realised that she'd been kidding herself. Of course she was going to take her clothes off. Even though it would be easy to just pretend that she was doing what she was told, she wanted to obey his orders.

Removing her clothes with top speed, taking a second to crank up the thermostat on the wall so she didn't freeze to death, Rachel got into the doggy position. Shaking a little as she waited, her blue eyes became fixated on the rectangular phone on the floor between her hands. She willed it to ring before she had time to think about the fact she was being paid to do this.

The phone vibrated into life just as Rachel was brushing a stray hair that had escaped from her russet ponytail from her eyes.

‘Can you hear me?'

‘Yes.'

‘Good.' Ryan's voice echoed a little, and Rachel thought he was probably calling her from the back of his van. ‘Now, I want you to do everything I say, and to prove you are doing it, I want you to take a picture with your phone when instructed. Yes?'

Her heart thudding in her neck, Rachel agreed, aware of nothing now but the voice coming through the speaker of the phone before her.

‘Right, dirty bitch. Pick up the phone, take a picture of your tits as they hang down, and send it to me. Do it now.'

Rachel picked up the mobile clumsily, and after a few failed attempts at taking a picture he could actually make out as her tits, rather than just an out-of-focus pink blob, she fired it off and placed the phone back down.

Only 30 seconds passed before her boss' voice could be heard faintly muttering sounds of appreciation as he received the shot. ‘Excellent I knew you'd have gorgeous tits. Now, take your right hand and play with your left nipple. Tell me how it feels.'

Obediently, Rachel tweaked her left tip between her fingers, rolling them over and around her breast, ‘It feels good. My chest is hard for you. It is enjoying my touch, but it wants your touch.'

‘Or maybe the touch of the waitress from this morning?'

‘She was hot, but it is your hands I want.'

‘Good girl.' She could hear a hint of smugness in his voice, but didn't care. Her right teat was already becoming jealous of the attention that its partner was receiving. Yet it didn't cross her mind to cheat and swap hands and body sides.

‘My tit is so tight. And my other one hurts because it isn't being touched.'

‘How does your arse feel?'

‘Neglected.' With a start, Rachel realised that was the truth. Her bum suddenly felt cold and left out. She wanted a hand to trail over it; to dance carelessly between her legs, squeeze her arse and tease her clit. Her words were rushed and almost angry, as she began to tell him so. ‘Do you have any bloody idea how wet I am? How wet I have been since the café this morning. I have hardly got any work done for thinking about you with that girl's mouth around your cock! A cock I haven't even bloody well seen!'

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