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I shouldn’t be here, I thought, my subconscious interrupting my daze off into space. But there I was, sitting in an oversized chaise lounge, sipping the last bit of my drink, waiting for Mr. Morano to return with another. We had completed the biggest project for our company to date less than an hour ago, and while my other coworkers had to return to their families, neither he nor I were ready to end our Friday nights. So, I gladly accepted his invitation to come over for drinks, since it was on my way home. Now I sat in his opulent living room, listening to the subdued crackling of wood in the fireplace. It was relaxing, adding to the low lighting and creating a toasty air, much different from the biting wind and snow outside.
He returned to the room, handing me a new glass of red wine filled almost to the brim. I smiled, looking up. “Thank you, Mr. Mora-“
“Please, call me Huston.”
Something about the low tone in which he said those words made my stomach flutter, and I felt a silly grin creeping across my face. Biting my lip to stop it, I looked up, my eyes meeting his. Time seemed to stand still as I stared into his dark grey eyes, and the moistness between my legs was becoming almost unbearable. My lower lips yearned to be touched by him, to finally be filled with his manhood. But what about the fact he was twenty-seven years my senior? That he was my married boss? These were fleeting thoughts, instantly forgotten the moment Huston leaned down to kiss me. His lips were softer than I’d imagined. I could taste the sweetness of the whiskey he had been sipping on, with subtle hints of sugary vanilla that I savored as our tongues danced. Our lips never parting, I stood to give his hands more freedom to roam my body. Moving masterfully, he wrapped his arms around me, unzipping my dress from the back. It dropped to the floor and I stood there in nothing but a plunge bra, lace thong, and five-inch pumps. He slid his left hand behind my head and into my hair, while the other wandered down, moving my panties to the side so he could tease my clit before gliding one, then two fingers inside me. I let out a muffled moan from the combination of his breathing and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, and intensified rhythm of his fingers moving in and out of me.
Our steamy makeout session continued as Huston carried me up the winding flight of stairs and into a dark bedroom, only lit from a nearby street light peaking through the drapes. Standing up against the edge of a huge bed, I reached down to unbuckle his slacks and remove his shirt. I traced my fingers up his toned biceps, over his abdomen, and down to the bulge that had been growing in his pants, making him lean his head back and sigh heavily. I wanted to drop to my knees and feel his cock hitting the back of my throat, but before I could, he gently pushed me back onto the bed. I scooted to the top, resting my head on a uniquely shaped, firm foam pillow as he used his body to part my legs. I was beyond ready to feel every inch of him inside me, and I waited patiently for him to enter. But he didn’t. Instead, he reached over me, guiding my arms up towards my head and wrapping my wrists snuggly in silky ties. How did he know I loved to be bound, taken control of. That’s when I realized it wasn’t any pillow I was resting on – it was the Liberator LoveArts, a piece I’d wanted to bring into my own bedroom for some time. Then, he turned his attention back to my lips before trailing kisses along my neck and down to my breasts. His tongue twirled around each nipple, playfully tugging on them in a way that made my back arch up in pleasure and frustration. My pussy needed to feel more than just the bulge pressing up against it, and it quickly got what it wanted. Slowly, he entered inside my wanting walls, his breathing getting more heavy with each inch.
That’s when I noticed the silhouette of a figure standing in the doorway. His wife? My eyes dart between Huston and the shadow, and I want to yell that someone is here. But I can’t. All I can manage to utter are moans of extreme pleasure. Each thrust feels like pure ecstasy. I close my eyes, and when I open them the figure has disappeared. Whew, my mind must have just been playing a cruel trick on me…
His hand barely brushes down my body, stopping at my swollen clit, and I feel my breathing quickening. Pressing down, he begins moving his fingers in circular motions matching the pace of his thrusts. I can’t hold it in any longer. His movements fasten before ramming deep inside me, making our pelvis’ inseparable. He stills as my vagina throbs uncontrollably around his stiff cock, my body pulsating and giving in to the momentous waves of pleasure traveling through every inch of it. Three more quick spasms and he pulls out, emptying himself onto me. Granting his warm, ivory liquid the freedom it patiently waited for. It dances in between my bare breasts, flowing so flawlessly down the hollowed passageway of my stomach before filling my navel. I’m distracted from our heavy breathing by an echo of our orgasms. That’s when I see her, his wife, gracefully walking towards us from the other end of the room. She kisses him before turning to me. And in a matter of seconds, I feel her delicate lips caressing the dip in my belly, licking and sucking to get every single drop of his cum like it’s her final meal.29