Introduction: This is part two of my story... it can stand on its own, but I hope you enjoy if enough to go read part one as well! I'm reposting this because, for some insane reason, the last time I posted it, it got voted down ridiculously fast and ended up at the bottom of the barrel where nobody read it. I don't care so much if my work gets negative votes when it deserves it, but I felt my story deserves a second chance. I hope you enjoy it, and that it doesn't get negative attention from a bunch of socks again. Would love to hear your comments and thoughts on it.
Somebody had paid for a Carrie Underwood song on the jukebox in the back corner, causing a few girls in cowboy hats at the nearest booth to scream ‘whoo!’ and shoot their fists into the air, signalling their pleasure and desire for another round of shots. Some of the men watched them with drunken grins, appreciating the slutty cowgirl getups and clear willingness to go to bed, a bathroom stall or the backseat of any random guy’s car.
The bar was full – nothing like the evening before a national holiday to get drunk – and the staff had their hands full, trying to deliver the right drinks to the right table. At the bar Brandon was busy mixing fruity drinks for what was clearly a group of sorority girls hell-bent on going wild. As Carrie beat up her boyfriend’s pretty little souped-up four-wheel-drive, he added the requisite cocktail umbrellas his nieces always wanted when they played with their Barbies.
Who said girls ever grew up?
One of the waiters whisked the tray away and left him to deal with more hard-core drinkers - beer, beer, rum and coke, beer, some shots of tequila, beer…
It was one of those moments where everything seemed to fall in place – the music ended and there was no new song yet, so a silence settled over the bar for a heartbeat, just as the door opened, letting in a rush of wind and a few lost raindrops. The girl stepped inside, clearly enjoying the spotlight of the moment as every male eye in the bar was fixed on her. She looked around leisurely as she started to work on the buttons of her black coat, undoing each one slowly and with a knowing little smile, making it look like a very public striptease. She moved her shoulders sensually to let the coat slide from her shoulders, reminding Brandon of a girl in a silky nightgown, seducing her boyfriend in the bedroom. Her gaze lingered on Brandon for a few seconds while the attendant at the coatrack took her coat and handed her a ticket.
Brandon felt the heat of her eyes burn through his body, and swallowed a little uncomfortably. The girl was hotter than that any chilli he had ever tasted and he knew his girlfriend would not approve of the fantasies running through his mind at that second.
The newcomer made her way over to the bar, ignoring the men who shifted their bodies to brush up against her as she slid past them on black fuck-me-senseless heels. The elevation of the shoes was doing the most interesting things to her legs, making them seem as if they just went on forever. Her dress – if you could call that excuse for an outfit a dress – was a lace and leather orgasm waiting to happen, held together by silky strings Brandon could imagine undoing with his teeth. It ended just south of respectable, and dipped so low in the front a good jiggle would probably shake the precarious hold it had on her boobs and dislodge one of them.
Brandon wanted to jiggle her.
And it wasn’t just her clothes. She had a face and the body to match his every wet dream. Silky, dark brown curls brushing down her back, blue eyes that portrayed a vulnerability completely at odds with her sin-on-heels outfit. Her mouth was full and plump and looked like a vodka-soaked cherry that needed to be licked and sucked and nibbled on. She had painted it wine-red and it glimmered wetly in the low lighting, begging to be kissed. Brandon stared down the college boy who worked behind the bar part-time as the kid hurried to serve her.
“What can I get you?” he asked as she slipped one hip onto the high barstool, crossing her legs and letting one of the strappy heels dangle of her foot. Her tongue shot out and tasted the edge of her upper lip. His eyes followed the movement, almost hypnotized by the small pink movement, reminding him of another pink little female nub he liked to suck on.
“What do you have that’s good?” she asked, her fingers touching the edge of the bodice of her dress seductively.
“How about a martini?” he asked, his eyes trying their best to untie that string that held together her dress at the front.
“No,” she said, simply.
“Sex on the beach?”
She lifted one sexy eyebrow. “We’re a little far from the beach, don’t you think?”
“A screaming orgasm, then,” he said, getting very obvious in this game of seduction they were playing.
She leaned forward, getting perilously close to showing him her nipples.
“I’ll have one of those,” she said, “and take an IOU.”
“First one’s on the house,’ he said huskily, “but you can open a tab for those IOU’s.”
She smiled, a cat-in-the-birdhouse smile that played havoc on his hormones.
He compared her to his girlfriend as he turned to start mixing the drink and felt a stab of shame and guilt. Emily was a librarian; a mousey girl with dowdy glasses and a sweet personality. This vixen behind the bar was his every fantasy come to life. And he was going to screw her before he went home to the girl he planned to ask to marry him.
One last fling, he told himself as he added the Bailey’s to the vodka over the crushed ice. He opened a new bottle of Kahlua and added it, stirring the glass before setting it down in front of her. One last wild thing before I settle down, become a respectable white-picket-fence husband, and start mowing the lawn on Saturdays.
The thought was almost depressing, but he knew it was time to move on from bachelor life and Emily was the perfect girl to marry. He even loved her, which made the whole deal seem worthwhile.
“What do you think?” he asked as she lifted the glass to her lips. She took a sip and her tongue tasted a drop that was left behind on her bottom lip.
“Not bad,’ she said. “Not bad at all, barman. Got any other surprises for me?”
“Sure do. Just come round back and step into my office for a minute or so.”
Ignoring the looks of his staff as he abandoned them to the crush of too many customers, he lifted the counter for her to follow him behind the bar. His hand low on her back, he guided her into the back of the building, to the room that housed his office. There was a solid wooden desk with a chair on each side and a computer stand on the other side. He closed and locked the door behind him and stood with his hands in his pockets as she surveyed the room.
“I don’t see any hidden cameras,” she said, sounding almost disappointed.
His eyebrows shot into the air. “You want to be caught on camera?”
“Of course not,” she said, letting her handbag drop negligently on the couch that was stacked with papers and the other debris of running a business. “I can’t afford any blackmail material. I have a very, very possessive boyfriend.”
Her fingers stroked down his chest as she spoke, and he shifted his body to get a little closer to her. “He would kill you if he knew about tonight.”
Brandon’s eyebrows lifted a fraction of an inch.
“The toughest,” she purred as she started undoing the buttons on his white shirt. “Big, scary guy.”
“Are you trying to make me jealous?” he asked as his hands found her ass and pulled her tight against him, letting him feel the hard ridge between their bodies.
“Maybe,” she said. “Is it working?”
“My girlfriend would claw your eyes out,” he whispered against her temple. “She looks tame, but she can be a real wild animal sometimes.”
“I can take her,” the girl said, smiling confidently and tipping her face up for a kiss. Brandon didn’t comply immediately, choosing to taste that spot under her ear women always ruined with perfume.
Not this one. He could taste nothing but pure, unadulterated female skin as he touched the tip of his tongue to the spot.
“No marks,” he heard her husky murmur. “My boyfriend can’t find out.”
“I’ll mark you if I want to,” he said, settling his lips tight over that sweet spot and suckling hard, drawing the blood to the surface of her perfect, unmarred skin for a proper hickey.
“You bastard,” she gasped and tried to pull away. Brandon tightened his hold and laved the bruise with his tongue before continuing down the line of her jaw. He found a little beauty spot near the corner of her mouth and played with it for a few seconds before settling his lips over hers with deliberate possession.
Mine, he thought as his hands sought out the curves of her ass and cupped them. He pulled her against him and lifted her until her feet were no longer touching the ground. She put her arms around his neck and pressed her body closer to his, her breasts pressing hot and soft against his chest. He pressed her back against the door of his office, ignoring her hiss of pain as the handle bit into her hip. She hitched her legs around his waist and he settled into the apex between her thighs like he belonged there. His hands held her in place as he started grinding against her with a slow, rocking motion, his hips moving and his fingers clenching her buttocks.
“Oh,” she gasped when his cock pressed hard and tight against her. Her hands were busy with his buttons and his collar, trying to get rid of his shirt. He pressed a hungry kiss against her lips, slipping his tongue over that plump flesh and tasting the drink he’d made for her. She kept her lips pressed closely together, making him work for it. He punished her by nipping on her bottom lip, not hard enough to draw blood, but definitely hard enough to make her gasp in shock and surprise. He took advantage of that, slipping his tongue into her mouth and taking what he wanted, branding her with his kiss. He angled his head and deepened the kiss and there was something dark and desperate about the way their mouths and bodies moved together. He drew her tongue out of her mouth and sucked on it, swallowing her responsive moan. Her hands were moving restlessly, testing the strength of his shoulders, one of them cupping the back of his head and fisting in his hair. He broke the kiss when oxygen became a problem, and they were both breathing heavily when he pressed his face into the curve of her neck, pressing open-mouthed kissed to that meeting of neck and shoulder. He pulled away and angled his hips closer to the wall to brace her against the wall while his hands started pulling at the straps holding the dress together like a corset. His fingers were almost shaking with the strength of his need as he pulled at the tight knots. She was pressing kisses everywhere she could touch him – his forehead, cheeks, temples. He swore when he failed to loosen the ties and she laughed, a low throaty sound that had his cock hardening. She pushed herself away from him and he let her slide down to the floor reluctantly.
“Why don’t you go sit and let me entertain you?” she asked and he followed her instructions, settling himself down on the brown leather chair behind his desk. She picked up the drink he’d mixed for her and took a sip, her eyes smoky and seductively on his face as the corner of her mouth tilted in a sensuous smile. She dipped her finger into the drink and slipped it inside her mouth, sucking the juice. Brandon cleared his throat and got rid of the shirt that was still hanging off his shoulders. His hard-on was pressing uncomfortably against zipper of his Levis. With one hand, the girls swept the desk clean of papers. He watched in fascination as papers and ledgers hit the floor. The framed photo of him and Emily at a ski-resort crashed onto the floor, the glass shattering. He felt another tug of guilt as he looked at her laughing, trusting face. But then the dark-haired vixen walked around the desk, the shards of glass crunching under her shoes. She sat on the edge of the desk, and crossed her legs, the drink still in her hand.
The girl took the cherry he’d put in the drink with the vague hope that she might do exactly what she clearly about to do. She held it by the stem, just above her mouth. Brandon’s eyes were glued on the drop of moisture caught on the bottom, hanging suspended in the air. She held out the tip of her tongue and the drop landed on it. She drew her tongue into her mouth, tasting it. And then she began the seduction in earnest. Her tongue teased around the round bulbous head, licking and tasting and flicking it skilfully. She sucked on it lightly, not hard enough to crush it. She drew it over her lips, across her chin and followed the line down to her cleavage. She slipped it into the sweet valley between her breasts and with a small movement of her shoulders, dislodged it from the stem.
“Fuck,” Brandon breathed in an awed voice as she put the stem inside her mouth. He could see the movement of her tongue and it took only a few seconds to knot it.
He hoped fervently that she would use that skilful tongue on his cock soon.
“I seem to have lost the cherry,” she said. “Will you help me look for it?”
He reached for her eagerly, but she leaned back and put one foot against his chest, the heel of her shoe biting into his flesh a little.
“Not yet, naughty boy,” she said and pushed her leg. The wheels of the chair propelled him backwards a little and she smiled a little.
She tugged at the strip of satin he had been struggling with and it came loose with ease. Her breasts pushed against the material and it shifted, allowing him a glimpse of those soft globes of flesh. He thought he caught a flash of red, but then she moved her arms to start getting rid of the dress. He watched the line as the straps slid down her shoulders, baring her more completely while framing her delectable body. Her fingers tugged slowly and the string that held it all together slid from its hooks. The material popped open, but the half-cup bra she was wearing was still holding her breasts pressed against each other. His hands itched to cup them and test their weight and he couldn’t wait to bury his face between them.
He touched her ankle and stroked it, knowing exactly where to press his thumbs to make her squirm. His hands moved up her leg, using it as leverage to pull his chair closer to the desk. He put both hands on her legs and caressed the skin on the inside of her knees. He pressed them slightly away from each other and slid his fingers higher, marvelling at the softness that covered her firm muscles. He reached the edge of the dress and he pressed it higher, until it pooled in her lap. She leaned back on her elbows and lifted her hips a little to help him push the tight dress over her ass. The erotic sight of her hips lifting, her legs opening wider nearly undid him, but he clamped down on his desire and settled for stroking her thighs when she grabbed the hem of her dress with both hands crossed in front of her and pulled it up and over her head. It mussed up her hair a little and she dropped the material on the floor behind the desk without a care.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes roaming hungrily over her body, taking in the smooth, flat planes of her stomach, with only the smallest and most natural rounding between her hipbones. Even those creepy dolls in the shops had those bumps nowadays. He cupped it possessively with one hand, his thumb stroking the line of the low-cut thong she was wearing. It was black lace and had clearly been designed to be as improper as possible, because it didn’t hide any of her pretty female treasures from his view.
He drank in the sight of her full, naturally rounded hips, so perfect for holding onto, and her soft breasts, pushing against the bra that was doing a very poor job of keeping them contained. It matched the panties and he found himself devouring her body with his eyes. She was all female curves and seductress and feminine vulnerability rolled up into one delicious package. He put his hands on her knees and pushed her legs further apart to make way for his body. He kissed her stomach, an open-mouthed, mindless kiss as his tongue traced circles on her skin. She leaned back again when his hands found the straps of her panties. She lifted her hips again to help him, but Brandon had lost patience and gave a quick yank, tearing the delicate lace. She gasped as he threw the scrap of material over his shoulder. The scent of her arousal filled his senses and he leaned down to touch his mouth to her hairless mound. She stroked her fingers through his hair when he pushed her down onto her back with one hand. He trailed kisses down her thigh, lifting her leg so he didn’t have to move away from her warm, inviting body. He kissed the back of her knee and while her attention was fixed on the things his tongue was doing to that erotic spot, he slid a finger into her sweet wet folds. She gasped and jerked in surprise, and her foot hit him against the side of his head, the heel of her shoe nearly taking his eye out.
“Damn, woman,” he grumbled. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Not yet,’ she said remorselessly.
He abandoned his idea of kissing every inch of her luscious legs and went straight for desert. He hooked her knees over his shoulders and with this thumbs, opened the petals that hid her flower from him. She was perfect – puffy and pink and warm and wet and so damned pretty he could stare at her all day. Her outer lips were full and succulent, swollen with desire. The inner folds were delicate, like some lovely exotic rose. Her little nub was swollen and begging for attention. He complied, rubbing his finger over it a few times, softly, his touches light and fleeting and designed to drive her out of her mind. He dipped his finger in her moist entrance, gathering some of the juice pooled there and bringing it to her clit. He smeared it like a painter, admiring the glistening effect it had on her folds. She squirmed a little as he started playing, touching her in different ways and testing her reaction. He was surprised to find that her clit was more sensitive on one side than the other, and tortured her by concentrating on that spot. He felt like a little boy who had discovered a new toy and he had no intention of stopping his game any time soon. He pushed two fingers inside her opening, slowly to please them both and prolong the sensations that made her hips jerk. She swore when he found her g-spot and curled his fingers to linger there, stroking and pressing and driving her as crazy with desire as he was.
He decided to up it a notch, so to speak, and leaned down. He suckled one of her outer lips into his mouth, then the other, before flicking his tongue over her clit only once.
She used a word he didn’t think Emily had ever heard and pressed her crotch up against his face. He slid his tongue inside her entrance, tasting the sweet nectar and moaning at the taste of her essence. He started working her over with deliberate slowness, licking and tasting and cleaning her juices. She was begging him by the time he sucked her clit into his mouth, shameless pleas and promises that made him grin. He pulled at the little nub with his lips, nibbled it very lightly with his teeth and sucked it. She was pushing her pussy into his mouth, grinding his face helplessly as he tugged at her rhythmically.
“I’m going to come,” she warned when he started pumping his fingers in and out of her.
“Go ahead,” he said, his mouth full of the wild taste of her and his hands full of soft, straining curves. He kept her on the edge, knowing when to ease of and when to speed up, to keep her balanced on the brink of a shattering orgasm. Finally he relented and rubbed her clit with one finger while his mouth settled over the mouth of her opening and, sealing it tightly, started sucking hard and fast. She came on a keening cry as she tumbled down that edge in to the blinding abyss of pure, shattering pleasure. Her juices were warm as it poured out of her body straight into his mouth. He curled his tongue almost like a straw and sucked as much into his mouth as he could. It sounded peculiar – like a symphony of undeniably sex-related noises, but neither of them cared at that point. She was gasping for breath when he eased her legs of his shoulders, and they fell over the edge of the desk inelegantly.
“Oh my…” she wheezed. “That was amazing!”
“Thanks,’ he said, grinning as he used his shirt to wipe his face clean. He was covered in her cum.
“Just give me a few minutes, cowboy, and I’ll return the favour.”
His cock was likely to spurt the second he undid his pants at that point, so a few minutes sounded good to him. He walked around the desk to the mini-fridge behind the door. He took a bottle of beer and opened it, gulping down half the bottle in a few swallows. She struggled to sit up and he admired the way her breast jiggled when she moved, just the way he liked a woman’s boobs to jiggle. He couldn’t wait to have them in his hands, and couldn’t believe he hadn’t had them there yet.
She drank down some of her warming drink and followed him with his eyes as he undid the top button of his jeans to ease the pressure.
“Allow me,” she said and pushed him down in the chair. A few seconds later, she was kneeling between his legs. She teased him, drawing one white-tipped nail down the steel zipper, rasping it playfully. He watched her as she amused herself and bit back the impatience. He couldn’t afford to show any weakness with this woman – she was likely to use it against him shamelessly.
She opened his pants and helped his eager cock out of the little prison of too many layers of clothing. Finally it sprung free, hard as a rock and ready as an active volcano.
“Oh, yes,” she said, cupping both hands around his length. He hissed when she stroked him once, from base to tip.
“You are quite big, aren’t you?” she asked as she traced a bulging vein with her finger.
“I haven’t had any complaints yet,” he said from between his teeth.
“I can see why not. And so thick, too.”
She tugged a little as she stroked upwards, and he could feel the moisture of pre-cum leaking from his tip. Her thumb caught it and he looked as she slipped that digit into her mouth and sucked it clean.
“Hm,” she said appreciatively. Her hands started working him over in earnest and he closed his eyes as sensations battered him.
He felt the velvety wetness of her mouth and opened his eyes in time to see the head of his cock disappear between those cherry-lips of hers. She licked all around his bulbous head for a few seconds, getting him wet and slippery. After a while, she pushed her head down over him and Brandon groaned aloud. His hand curled around her head and fisted into her curls as she started bobbing her head up and down slowly, taking him deeper inch by inch, until he was buried as deep as she could take him. She picked up her pace a little, sucking while she bobbed, and he couldn’t help thrusting his hips to get deeper. She lifted her head and his cock jutted up, lining itself up with his belly. She took one of his balls into her mouth, cupping the other while she stroked him with her tongue.
When both his balls were wet and slick, she took his dick back into her mouth. This time she managed to deep throat him a few lovely times. He stared into her eyes and stroked her face as she sucked him off.
“I’m going to come soon, babe,’ he said. It was fair warning, after all. She redoubled her efforts, sucking harder and stroking with her hand to add to the pleasure. Her tongue was swirling around him, pressing against that sensitive spot at the base of his cock.
It undid him, and Brandon lost control for a few seconds, cupping her face in both hands and plunging his cock into her hard and fast until the cum spurted out of his cock and into her mouth. She swallowed convulsively around him and gagged a little. He was past the point of caring.
When it was over, he leaned back against the chair, gasping and almost shaking. His hand was still stroking her silky hair, which he had twined around his fingers at some point to hold her face down against his cock as he went in too deep. He forced his fingers to let go of her with some difficulty, as his brain struggled to send the correct commands to his hand.
“Are you all right?” he asked, concerned. She was using the same shirt he’d used to wipe her face. “I was a little rough back there.”
“Only a little. I'm fine, thanks.”
He grabbed the beer bottle he’d put on the desk and guzzled the rest. “You sure know how to give head,” he said, impressed.
“Practise makes perfect,’ she said and stood up, wincing as the movement made her knee crack. He smiled as she drowned the last of her drink.
“How was the screaming orgasm?”
She stared at the empty glass. “Not bad. I’d like another one, actually.”
He pulled her down to straddle him on the chair.
“Your wish is my command,” he said and kissed her. It was a tender kiss, but it became hotter as their tongues tangled, mixing the tastes of their respective cum and drinks. His fingers were combing through her dark curls and hers were grasping his shoulders. Finally she pulled away and his hands slid around her body to her back. He found the strap of her bra and undid it deftly. She lifted her arms and got rid of it impatiently. His hands rose to cup her breasts.
“Oh, yeah,’ he breathed.
“What is it with men and boobs?” she asked, amused. “I’ve never had sex with a man who weren’t obsessed with them.”
He stared at her chest.
“They’re… boobs,” he said as if that explained everything. “Hey, I found the cherry.”
She laughed as he popped into his mouth. He bit into it and it burst open, filling his mouth with the ripe taste of cherry and vodka and woman. He kissed her again, sharing bits of the flesh and juices with her.
She was grinning in a playful manner and he wished he had a jar of cherries to share with her. His hands were stroking and weighing her boobs and she leaned back slightly, pressing them into his hands more firmly. He played with the nipples and they hardened under his touch, delighting him. They were rosy tips; a soft, delicate coral pink that he wanted to taste.
So he did. He took one tip into his mouth, sucking it hard and with a rhythm that was reflected in the way she was grinding her hips against his body. He pulled back and her nipple popped out of his mouth, making him grin. He found her other breast and instead of sucking, started nibbling on her as if she was a delicious titbit in a finger-foods buffet.
She moaned and pressed his head closer to her. He rubbed his jaw against her and knew he was abrading her soft, smooth skin with his stubble.
“No marks,” she gasped as she realised what he was doing.
“Screw that,” he said. “If I want to mark you, I will damn well mark you.”
He was growing hard again from her squirming on his cock. He pulled open a desk drawer, looking for a condom. He found the foil packet, but she took it from him and tossed it over her shoulder.
“I’m on the pill,” she said.
“Great,” he said, as he had never been fond of condoms before. Oh, he was careful, but there was nothing like a hot wet pussy, pulsating and rubbing the sensitive skin of his cock.
He reached between them and she lifted herself slightly as he started rubbing the head of his hardening cock against her like a paintbrush, holding it between the folds and teasing her clit. She was soaking, and covering him with her wetness. He used it to lube himself up. She was ready, but he was quite big, like she had said.
It didn’t take long before he was fully hard again, and he lined up with her entrance. He looked deeply into her eyes as he pulled her down onto him. She made a sound in the back of her throat as his size and girth filled and stretched her. She settled down, finding a spot that was at the same time comfortable and exciting. He moved experimentally, pushing into her. She winced a little as he went deeper than she had expected, but he was gentle and her body soon adjusted. She began to move on top of him, slidding up and down his pole with deliberate slowness. The first orgasms had left both of them sated, and there was no reason to hurry yet. They took their time, finding the good spots and kissing and murmuring to each other as their bodies worked up the sweetest of all frictions.
After a while they became more urgent, and he pressed up when she slid down, a decided increase in the speed of their movements. It wasn’t long before she was almost bouncing in his lap, her lips seeking his desperately. His arms tightened around her and he held her close as their breathing sped up. After a while she stood up, surprising him.
“Take me hard,” she said and bent over the desk, proving him with the best view of her much-neglected ass. He was more than happy to comply, but he spent a few seconds admiring her firm buttock as he stood behind her. His hands stroked her white skin and he followed an instinct he had never experienced before. He wanted to see her buttocks all pink and warm, not white and perfectly smooth. So he brought his palm down, hard, on her cheek.
“Ouch!” she gasped in pain, jerking a little and tr8ing to shift away. ‘What the hell?”
‘Quiet,” he said and branded the other cheek as well.
“You’re hurting me,” she said and tried to twist away, but he held her caged. “Not for long,” he promised. “It’ll feel good in a second.”
He gave her another spanking on each side and she gave a moan as the burn seemed to echo in the empty space between her legs. She pressed back, arching her back like a stretching cat while he tanned her hide. After a while he stopped slapping her and settled for stroking over the burning skin.
“Your skin is the loveliest shade of pink,” he said, tracing the heated spots before grasping her buttocks, spreading her cheeks wide and fitting his cock into her pussy in one smooth glide. He kept his eyes on the spot where he disappeared into her body as he started ramming hard and deep into her. She was moaning and pressing back against him as he fucked her mercilessly. He was beginning to lose control a little, and his strokes were not as measured as earlier. He was simply taking her, his hands on her hips pulling her back into his thrusts as he felt the wetness of her walls around him. She gasped when he hit a spot deep inside her that hovered on the edge between pleasure and pain. He slid one hand around and between her legs and found her clit. He rubbed it mercilessly, wanting her to go over one more time before he came.
She started convulsing around him after a few minutes, her inner walls convulsing and tightening. He moaned at the feeling. She was like a tight wet fist, velvet and satin, fire and lube, hot and deliciously smooth. He lost control of his thoughts when her body started milking him in hot, liquid tugs that seemed to pull the orgasm from deep within him. He roared and lunged deep for stroke after stroke, feeling her body accept him, gushing more cum around his cock. His cock felt as if it was going to burst inside her and he trembled before he settled as deep as he could between her thighs, his finger working her clit as she cried out. He held himself as deep as he could when he exploded, the cum shooting straight out and coating her insides. He felt the warmness sliding around her lubed-up tunnel. Her channel was still convulsing around him as she came down from the orgasm that had rocked her world and he was gasping for breath from exertion. He was still inside her when he leaned over her to lick up a bead of sweat that was rolling down her neck.
There was a few awkward seconds as he slid out and stood up, helping her up from the desk. They surveyed the damage on the floor and she bent down to retrieve the photo.
“Sorry about this,” she said. He took it and put it face down on the desk.
They took turns, cleaning up in the small private bathroom that held only a toilet and basin. She got dressed, but left her panties because he had torn them completely. He watched her try to fix her hair and make-up, but no matter what she did, she looked like a woman who had just been good and properly fucked.
There was no hiding the glow of post-coital satisfaction, or her lips, which were swollen from his kisses, or the hickey and visible beard-burn marring her soft white skin.
And there was, of course, no getting around the fact that they both smelt like sex.
She left his office while he was in the bathroom, still trying to clean up without saying good-bye. He pulled a clean shirt from his drawer, since the one he’d been wearing was stained with cum and smelt like a whorehouse.
He cleaned the mess on his floor and restored order to his office. The photo of Emily he slipped into a drawer. He was never going to be able to look at it without remembering tonight.
“Lock up behind you,’ he ordered the manager after he had cleaned up his office to his satisfaction. “I need to get home early.”
The bar was still overflowing with now-drunk people, but it didn’t surprise him to see that he and the woman had been busy for more than two hours. Time flies when you’re having fun. Chris nodded with a wise-ass grin. “I’m surprised you want to face Emily so soon after…”
Brandon held a hand up, stopping the man mid-sentence. Of course everybody who’d seen them go into his office had known what was going on. His lack of control sickened him a little. He was normally not somebody to forget things like conventions and morals and his sweet little librarian. But that hot girl had driven everything but the lust burning through his blood from his mind. He felt slightly bad about the rough way he had treated her.
He drove home slowly, not in a hurry to face Emily after the images burnt in his mind.
They would have to talk.
He knew where he would find her as he pushed open the door. She would be in the couch directly under the light, reading some romantic novel on her Kindle.
She was dressed in pyjamas, her hair still wet from her shower, her innocent face scrubbed clean and her glasses perched on her nose. He looked down at her and played with the house keys in his hand. She looked so sweet and utterly innocent. Guilt rode him hard.
“Hey,’ he said and she looked up and gave a small smile.
“You’re home early.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“Had a good night?”
“Oh yeah,” he said, incapable of preventing a grin from spreading across his face.
Her smile turned into a pout. “I’m not talking to you,” she said sulkily.
He sat down next to her on the couch, but she shoved at him with her stocking-clad feet. “Get lost.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asked suspiciously.
“Of course I am!” she exclaimed. “I distinctly said ‘no marks’, and you left me covered in hickeys, not to mention the fact that you actually spanked me!”
He grinned again. It was such a lovely picture, her pretty ass all red and warm.
“It was your fantasy,” he reminded her, pulling her into his arms. She put up a token resistance before she settled into his embrace with a sigh.
“It was a good one, huh?”
He gave a bark of laughter. “Oh, yeah. It was a good one.”
“You should have seen Chris’s face when I left your office. He must think I’m such a nymphomaniac.”
Brandon nuzzled her neck. “You are a bit of a nympho,” he said and tasted that spot he liked so much, the spot he had told her never to ruin with perfume.
“Yes, but I don’t like that other people know about it.”
“Me either,” he said. “They might going to start getting ideas. I’m just sorry if I was too rough.”
“I love you,’ she said, snuggling closer to him and ignoring the apology as it clearly didn’t matter to her that he’d been rough. His heart always seemed to stutter a little when she said that. They’ve been dating for several months, and he couldn’t remember ever being happier with anybody. She was his every fantasy come to life, and nobody who looked at her calm, nondescript face would ever guess how much she loved sex and everything that went with it. She was adventurous and hot and wild and he loved her to distraction.
“Marry me,’ he whispered into the hair that she had dyed dark brown the previous day. It fitted her, the dark hair contrasting with her light skin. But it didn’t matter to him what she looked like, as long as she loved him back and did unprintable things with his body as often as they both liked.
“I love you,” he added after a few seconds. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She smiled into his eyes, and said his all-time favourite word, and Brandon bent his head to kiss her again, this time taking the care he hadn’t taken earlier in his office. Not that it mattered. His little Librarian liked her Bartender any way she could have him.
And that suited him just fine.