Wanderlust Part 3

And away we go...

Wanderlust Part 3
by Sommer Marsden

I reached for him, wanting to feel him under my hand. The hitch of his chest as he tried to breathe deeply echoed through me and I grabbed his tie in one hand to anchor myself. One hand on his tie, one hand on his crotch. Now that he was kissing me, I could forgive him my embarrassment.

I rubbed that perfect hard ridge of cock and almost laughed. I had been set for a boring evening, but now I was in the wine room with a gruff and scary guy and my body was revving like an engine.

This was turning out to be a good night, after all.

My lips felt bruised he kissed me so hard, but when I tugged at his button his hand stilled my touch. "I don't think so."

Was he serious? Was he fucking kidding me?"

I pulled back and stared into those unreadable blue eyes—so stark blue it was like looking into a seemingly endless body of water.

"What?" was the most brilliant thing I could manage.

"We hardly know each other. I do have my reputation to protect." He was trying not to smile. Trying not to laugh at me. The fucker.

"I don't know what's wrong with you," I said. "But I'm done here. I just thought we could have a little fun—" I swallowed hard. Fun was about the most meaningful thing I had these days and it wasn't much. "But I can see that you're mentally compromised or something and I—"

Now he was laughing. I stomped my foot—rage shooting through my belly and filling my chest. I wanted to scream. Instead, I leaned in and growled at him. "Let. Me. Go.

"No."

A tiny splinter of real true fear wormed into my belly and my mouth went dry. I was alone back here with him. He was big—no, he was huge—and I had just called him mentally compromised. I straightened my shoulders and tried to act bigger and stronger and braver than I was. "Now."

"No."

I tried to pull away and he tugged me back, spinning me as he did, so that he cradled me—my back to his big chest. It was like some surreal dance move with an unwilling partner. But my panties had grown wetter and my pulse was pounding so hard I could hear it in my head and feel it in my temples.

"Look, just let me—"

"Now look, princess—"

"I thought I was Snowflake," I barked. My harsh laughter as bitter and awkward as the rest of me at the moment.

"As you wish, Snowflake. I said you can't use me and abuse me like one of your normal paper napkin boys. I'm not that kind of lay."

I bristled inside the cage of his arms. How did he know I used men? I wouldn't call it using. I would call it mutual amusement.

"I—"

"Hush up, now. I didn't say we couldn't have fun. And if you behave, later you can possibly have what you want from me."

Was he testing me? So that he would give me sex?

"Look, I don't know what you've been smoking, Johnny, but can I have some? Because clearly you're off your—"

The hand that wasn't anchoring me to his chest, lifted my skirt. The fabric whispered as it climbed my nylons like it was giving us directions. Advice maybe—How to fuck with a rich bored girl in five easy steps.

"Shut up."

I did. I had never shut up when told to do so, but something in the commanding yet amused tone of his voice made my body obey him even as my mind railed. I shut my mouth with a loud clack. He held my skirt up, my panties exposed to the cool air, my nylons too. I could feel his heart pumping away, it pounded my back with enough force that I could time his pulse if I wanted.

"Now, why don't you treat me to an appetizer?"

"A what?" My mouth didn't want to work but he understood me.

"An appetizer. I'll stand here and watch and you…You get yourself off."

"Get my…get my what off?" But I understood. I understood perfectly what he meant and blood rushed to my cheeks but also to other places. I was hot all over and angry and yes, turned on beyond belief.

"You know what I mean." He pressed his lips to my ear, hovering over my shoulder like some giant idol—a sculpture of something more than man carved from stone.

"I do not."

"You do so." His voice was as hot as his breath as he said right into my ear "Touch yourself, Snowflake. Show me you can warm up a bit. That you don't' have to be so clipped and cold. Touch yourself and get yourself off and then…"

My hands trembled. Was I really considering this? Was I? Maybe I was mentally compromised. "Then what?"

"If you're good and behave, we can do things right."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"I want you to put that chilly little hand into those silky blue panties and rub."

I did it. My fingers—actually somewhat cold from the cool wine room—slid below the elastic of my panties and I gasped to find myself quite wet. Quite ready. And when his tongue slid down the curve of my ear and then his teeth found my neck, I started to rub in earnest. Slippery, slick circles of urgency. He kissed the back of my neck and I shivered, almost coming from the bizarre secretive nature of it all, and the way his body seemed to overshadow mine. The way I instinctively wanted to listen to what he said to me.

I never listened to anyone. But I wanted to listen to him.

So when he said—"Now put your fingers in your pussy. Two to start should work."—and then chuckled in my ear. I obeyed.

STAY TUNED...