It was a damp, miserable night in April, and she was a little irritated, sitting in the back of the black cab. The driver had been late to collect her and the one thing she hated most was to be late, and rushed. She opened her clutch bag to find her lip-gloss. The invitation was staring back at her, taunting her; daring her to not go, or was it to do just the opposite. She couldn’t quite decide.
Her boss had called her that morning, asking her to go to the launch in his place. A big deal, but he had a family emergency. The company would book her a room at the hotel, of course. “Just give Jean your expenses, and remember that you’re going to have to hold the fort tonight. And make sure the client doesn’t think they’re being slighted. Make sure they know why I can’t be there.”
Normally it wouldn’t have presented a problem. She was used to stepping in at short notice. But tonight it was a launch party hosted by a company that was, well, not just any client. Every instinct told her she should make an excuse to not go. But curiosity and a daredevil drive werepushing her to ignore her better judgement. Her husband had complained again about her unscheduled after-hours work commitments. But it was her career. The career she’d always wanted and for which she had so far sacrificed having children. No, this evening she wanted time far away from home; away from the crushing emotional pressure of ever-diverging priorities. And as she was to be just a presence tonight, without the usual concerns she always felt when attending an event she had been managing. It might just be time without accountability, for once.
She knew he would be there. That was a certainty. He was the lead ad agency’s account director, and this was one of his principal clients. It was his client’s product launch, and he was the one that had nominated her PR firm to the client a few years ago. As the cab pulled up outside the hotel, she hesitated, took a deep breath, and stepped out into the evening drizzle. This night would take whatever course it did. She might even be the instigator.
At the reception desk she checked in, as discreetly as she could. The last thing she wanted to do was to bump into him now, while she wasn’t…prepared. She dumped her case on the bed with supreme indifference, and entered the bathroom to check her make-up, before steeling herself for the event to come. Several of her colleagues would be there, of course. In some respects that was a relief, a protection. In others, it might prove a constraint, or an embarrassment…at least later...unless she could remain discreet.
She heard her name being called from the other end of the corridor. The voice she almost expected to hear before all others. Owen. He approached her warmly and planted a big kiss on her right cheek. “Don’t you look like a slice of heaven, honey!” And as he lingered at her neck, he purred, “mmm, and you smell like it too!” Owen was sweet. He’d been her fan since she’d first met him a few years ago, when he’d been with another PR firm. She had been the one to lure him away. It was a coup for her company, and for her. It had been the catalyst for her rapid rise. Not that she wasn’t deserving of the promotions, but bringing in a big hitter like Owen had got her noticed in a completely new way. She was close to Owen, and he invariably made her feel like a princess whenever he was around her. She found it bitterly ironic that Owen knew instinctively how show appreciation for a woman, even though a woman to him would never be more than a friend, a colleague, and an occasional shopping companion…sexually, she would always be an inscrutable enigma to him.
The event was in full swing by the time they arrived at the vast ballroom. They were greeted by a waiter reverencing a salver of champagne flutes. Kir Royale. Owen helped himself to two glasses, knowing there was no way she would refuse; after all, it had been her favourite cocktail for as long as he’d known her. The sweetness of the Crème de Cassis accentuated by the bubbles was guaranteed to generate a certain frame of mind. Her smile was immediately electric! Owen saw something her couldn’t quite place. Something new and unexpected. Something that said: “Tonight, Owen, I’m going to be someone you haven’t yet met.”
This was an evening not to be missed, but Owen always thought that. For him, it was another chance to network and demonstrate his unbelievable ability to win friends and influence people. She also knew that he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to flirt with the odd waiter or two. She was happy he had worked out so well for the company. He’d consistently won big accounts since joining them, even if he had always need a lot of “looking after”, administratively.
They took their seats for the presentation that would launch the new product on an unsuspecting world. This was the reason for the whole event, but for both of them, although for rather different reasons, it was merely the prelude to the rest of the night.
An hour later, and the presentation over, they had moved into an adjoining room for dinner, and yet another now for cocktails. She stood for a while; only half listening to Owen extol the brilliance of this person and the venality of that one. The people he thought he could pin down tonight and what new opportunities that might create. She stood with a fixed smile, only mildly attempting to look interested. Tonight, she was distracted. Her gaze darted back and forth across the room. Looking beyond Owen, she spotted the man she had been seeking, as surreptitiously as she knew how. He wasn’t looking towards her.
He was part of a large group of men dressed in black tie, looking like men do at such functions, with a couple of women in tow. It was alpha males competing for the position of leadership and attention. His body language, though, was different. His superiority was effortless. He didn’t need to try. And as usual, although he was in costume, he was dressed unlike any of the other men. While they looked like their DJs were an uncomfortable but essential formality, his looked like it was the most natural attire he might ever wear. As though he had just stepped out from a shoot for GQ. But then he had looked like that whatever she’d seen him wearing in the past.
“Come on, we’ve been spotted, you’ve got to meet this guy. He runs the Middle East for…” She wasn’t listening. Owen gently took her arm and led her towards the group. In a moment of irrational panic, she scanned the gathering. Was he with anyone?
Owen began his usual glad-handing. Yes, he was good. She knew he was good. She could hear the words, but nothing was registering. But she could feel his eyes on her. He was at the back of the group, but she could feel him appraising her, admiring her. Even daring her to look his way. It took such strength of will for her not to return his gaze. He managed company, and it wasn’t her client. None of these were her people. She knew some of them slightly, of course, from their occasional presence in the office. She’d even been asked to sit in on a planning meeting at which he’d been present last week. She had been introduced; but they couldn’t even be called acquaintances. Oh, they’d shared glances. Last week, for sure, or so she felt. But also at other times: along corridors and through the glass wall of a conference room. Glances full of an unspoken something. She knew what it was to her.
Owen, as ever the polished schmoozer, did what she hoped. Leading her in his direction. “Bella, you’ve met Sam, of course.” And now he extended his hand and took hers. It was warm and firm and welcoming, and lingering. And now she smiled back at him, meeting his gaze directly, his eyes penetrating her.
The band started to play, and people began to dance. “Would you?” he ventured. “Yes,” she squeaked, momentarily flushing as he led her to the dance floor. “You look stunning tonight. I didn’t know if you’d be here, but I hoped you would be.” The tone of his voice diffused any remaining sense of discomfort she felt. She moved closer to him as the tempo of the music slowed. She could feel his breath on her neck. A frisson of excitement shot down her spine as he pulled her even closer, pressing his right hand into the small of her back. “You feel and smell just as beautiful as you look, Bella.” But he must have sensed a moment of tension in her body, as her mind returned to the question of a companion. “No. I’m here alone,” he whispered into her ear. In the unuttered conversations of their eyes, before tonight, she knew he had some gift for seeing her innermost thoughts. He’d now demonstrated it and it scared her a little, but the desire it aroused in her was already mounting. His touch was what she needed this evening, and she knew now that she would do what she had only speculated about. It was a risk, she knew. She’d never normally do anything quite so forward, so aggressive. But this was no normal night and no normal Bella. She carefully opened her clutch bag and placed something into the pocket of his dinner jacket.
The song had finished and they returned to the group. She loved to watch Owen in action. He had been working the floor and had a sizeable collection of executives eating out of his hands. He whispered in her ear that he had arranged meetings for the next three weeks. “Am I not a clever boy, Bella?” “Owen, you never cease to amaze me!” She was really good with people, but closing a deal was his forte.
Ten minutes felt like an hour now, and as the party went on she could see Sam reach into his pocket in a private moment. He had moved to a quiet corner, making certain he was alone. He pulled out the envelope she had placed there. He looked inside it and smiled a smile she couldn’t quite interpret. And was that a blush? Only two people in the room would know that she had shared both her room number and her very tiny La Perla panties, worn when she arrived at the hotel, but no longer…
He found her with one glance. She watched him as he walked towards her, his eyes never leaving hers. People were talking all around her, but she heard nothing. She knew he had been excited by what she’d done. She could see from the look in his eyes that he was turned on. He passed closely behind her as he reached the bar. She could feel his hardness as he gently brushed past her. He wanted her to know. Returning to her, his voice was confident and controlled as he whispered: “You’re a very naughty Bella! You should be careful who you tease like that!” She looked up into his eyes. “I’m not teasing,” she whispered in return, feeling a catch in her voice, whether from excitement or nervousness or guilt, she didn’t want to know.
She was alarmed that the others might be able to hear what passed between them, but all were oblivious and, by this time, more than half drunk. The CEO of the client hosting the launch party was leaning into her and making it very plain that he was interested in more than her professional PR expertise, but his breath reeked of alcohol and food and she despised being drooled over at the best of times. Sam finished at the bar and moved round to rescue her from the unwelcome attentions of her admirer. She loved him for that. It was done with such subtlety, yet brooked no opposition. As he took her arm,he surreptitiously placed a piece of paper into her left palm. Not daring to look, she made her excuses and left the group, glancing back questioningly at him as she walked away.
In the powder room, she looked at the note. It had only three words written on it: GO UP NOW! She knew she’d not be missed, at least for a while. And she had started this, so now was not the time to hesitate.
The corridor was dark and she could barely make out the numbers on the doors. Out of the shadows he stepped forward, making her jump, but in a good way. “You startled…,” she began to say. But he pulled her towards him, his mouth finding hers in a kiss of mounting passion. It was a kiss like none she’d ever experienced. Overpowering, yet gentle His lips soft and full and slightly moist; his tongue delicately pushing apart her lips to enter her mouth. “You are so naughty. You’re being such a bad girl tonight, aren’t you!”
She could feel him taking the key card from her hand and opening the door. Without a sound they moved into her room, the kiss renewed. The room was dark except for the light from the bathroom, bathing the bed in a soft glow. He took her bag and placed it on the desk, then kissed her neck. His hands were now moving down her back to feel her round cheeks through her dress, confirming the absence of panties. He sighed and squeezed her bum. She suspected that she knew how to turn him on. Standing in a group of men with no panties under her cocktail dress had been too much for him. She had read him so well…
With a flick of the remote he found a music station on the television. Soft, slow soul music began to steal into the room. His touch was deft and unerring. How could he do this so perfectly? He started to move with the music’s rhythm, holding her as if they were on the dance floor still, but this was their private dance. His kisses were soft and warm on her neck, moving from one side to the other and back. “I want you,” he whispered, “I’ve always wanted you. From the moment I first saw you.” All the words she needed to hear tonight.
His hands were stroking her hair now and feeling her golden curls twisting between his fingers. She stepped out of her shoes and he placed them to one side. He removed his jacket and carefully spread it across the armchair, removing his bow tie with one hand and not taking his eyes from hers for a second.
His fingers were on the zip of her dress now, slowly, sensually opening her up to him; her body electrified and her skin rising into bumps as he did. The shoulder straps of her dress fell away from her body, and he placed innumerable kisses in their place. The dress fell to the floor, revealing her in only a bra, which he unfastened with practised skill. His eyes appraised her body, eliciting a smile of admiration and desire. She didn’t think she was perfect, at least not by the standards of advertising. She was a real woman, with proper hips and full breasts. She had always been a little self-conscious about her body, unjustifiably so everyone said, and he was transfixed. “Bella, you’re so beautiful,” he breathed into her hair as he pulled her into him, “so beautiful.”
He moved her towards the bed and she sat on the edge. He was undressing now. She was excited to watch him. He treated his clothes with respect. As he removed his shirt she could see that he was well toned. His arms strong, but not over developed; his abs tight, betraying hours of working out. His shirt was folded and lovingly placed on top of his jacket. This made her smile. He was so careful, so controlled. Like he had been with her. She felt she was already precious to him.
His shoes and socks removed, his fingers searched in the half-light for his belt buckle. The dress trousers were well fitted, they looked to be custom made. She could see he was ready, that much was obvious as the material strained across the front to restrain his cock. She lay back and reached up to her breasts. Her nipples were hard and she brushed them under the palms of her hands. Despite her general bodily sensitivity, she was proud of these beauties. They were Nature’s gift to her. And although she had been teased at school, she was laughing now! Men admired her cleavage, and she never hid it. It was unavoidably part of her.
The music was now T’pau and ‘China in your hands.’ An oldie, but one she remembered from the parties of her youth. She had never before felt like china in anyone’s hands. But now, with this man, she was indeed delicate as porcelain. His evident desire for her didn’t feel like mere lust, although she certainly wanted lust. It seemed deeper; like a dam breaking and inundating him. She enjoyed him watching her feeling her round, heavy breasts cupped in her hands. Why shouldn’t she? She knew they were a significant asset.
He was naked now, with his cock in his right hand. Under his caresses it and it grew even harder. As he watched her, she moved her right hand towards her mound, lovingly trimmed and shaped. Her fingers searched out her lower lips, parting them to find herself…moist wasn’t the right adjective. It was as though her own dam, the one between her legs, had been breached. She brought her hand up to her mouth; her sweet stickiness was incredible. Did anyone ever love the taste of themselvesas she did? The liquid was like honey to her, and it was now flowing out of her without limit, making her ready for him. She’d never been this turned on, and the juices don’t lie! She knew she’d been wet since the moment she saw him; probably from the moment she took off her panties in her room before going down to the party. She didn’t know what she was doing, or what this was with him. All that mattered to her was this moment.
“I need you inside me,” she confided in a whisper, “deep inside me.”
He mounted the bed with the grace of a panther and headed for her legs. He kissed each one in turn as he moved upwards, and she could feel his hot breath on her mound, and then her lips. He wanted her juices, and he was going to get his share. She raised her legs, slightly apart, inviting him to taste. “As delicious as everything else about you,” he comforted. His forefinger gently circled her bud. She was hard for him too. And he knew just how to treat her here. “Lick me like an ice cream,” she hissed, surprised at her own vehemence.
He was exceptional in this, taking his time and occasionally moving his head away to whisper to her. “You taste amazing.” “How did it take us so long to get here?”
His tongue, sometimes quick and rough, sometimes slow and smooth, teased her, holding back nothing. Then he turned her over on to her front to lick the little rosebud between her arse cheeks, penetrating her with his tongue, deep and deeper. That was such a turn on for her. Part human, but mostly animal…
He carefully placed two fingers inside her now and licked away at all she possessed. Her right hand massaged her clit, driving her closer and closer. She wouldn’t be long. She needed this. Her breathing accelerated and her body tensed up, letting out a restrained scream. The feeling of pleasure released, her body was now in spasm. She shuddered, while he crept up the bed and held her. She gasped. He loved watching the effect of his attention on her. And he softly sighed into her ear: “Go on, let go, enjoy it. You wanted that didn’t you, you nasty girl!” She giggled and nodded. There was no possibility of deceiving him! He held her for a few minutes, still caressing her hair; his cock still stiff for her in her hand, his balls heavy and ready to explode for her.
He lay on his back while she leaned over and kissed him. She could taste her juices on his lips and around his face. It was a wonderful. He stoked her back and her hair, thenpulled her on to him, her legs astride his body. He penetrated her so easily; she was so slippery, as if she were filled with hot, velvet oil. Tight and flooded. She rode him slowly, up and down and around in circles. He filled her inside like no one before. Then he arched his back with a gasp. “I’m going to come. Slow down, just a bit.” She rocked backwards and forwards, intensifying the sensations and rubbing her clit against his mound now. His pubic his hair tickled her and stimulated her again. She held her breasts in her hands, but he wanted them. Reaching up and stroking their fullness. Her nipples responded by hardening again and he pulled her towards him and sucked. She shuddered. She was somewhere she couldn’t describe.
He sucked on her tits with such hunger and desire. He was pulsing with his hips faster now and his hardness was beginning to reach the point of no return. So closely joined together, so completely engrossed in each other,they bucked and rocked until she could feel him losingcontrol. Gasping her name as he came inside her, “Bella, oh Bella!” a combination of pain and pleasure written his face as he climaxed, as she came again. And as their orgasms subsided, he placed the most beautiful kiss on her lips, his tongue forcing another entry, and his body still convulsing.
She moved slightly, feeling their combined wetness between her legs. Lying back, she touched herself again, loving the way their juices had formed a slick emulsion, and feeling her clit, still hard despite everything. He wasn’t finished with her, though. He kissed her upon every inch down towards her lower lips. He lapped at their flood and shared it with her in a kiss to end all kissing. She moaned with pleasure. No one had done anything like that before, and she found amazing and nasty and just downright horny. His contribution tasted slightly salty and so warm in her mouth. She swallowed, and he kissed her again. To him, this was the ultimate in acceptance. And she was wonderful in his eyes.
They lay together as Lionel Richie from the television broke into the stillness. He whispered into her ear: “That was incredible. You are beyond belief, Bella. So beautiful. So amazingly sexy. I need much, much more of you.”
They dressed, with smiles and laughter. Sometimes dancing and holding each other close; feeling not a moment of awkwardness. Laughter was so important to her, and too infrequent. “Can you tell?” she enquired. “Can you?” he responded. “No!” they said almost in unison.
Standing by the door, he looked into her eyes and stroked her face. Saying nothing now. Words were superfluous. She could see it and feel it all in his eyes. Admiration and respect, yet something more. And still desiring her.
Down at the party the group had changed in composition, but had remained in the same space; and somewhat the worse for drink all around. She entered the room first, with him close behind. Both were looking immaculate and fresh, at least to the alcohol-skewed eye.
Owen approached. “So where have you two been?” “Getting to know each other better,” she grinned. For the second time that evening, Owen was seeing a new Bella. She was radiant, but changed...
