Traditional Loving? Part I

Sitting on the plush seats of the reception, her heart beating ferociously within the confines of her chest. There were to be no names. She was there to do her thing and leave. Although trying to work out why she was so nervous was beginning to freak her out slightly. She had been here before, the snotty receptionist who was giving her the eye had seen her before. Granted, that time she had been wearing a neon “Alejandro” outfit, which apparently wasn’t desirable attire for the establishment. Well, that’s what the Manager had said.

Snorting at the memory, she toyed with the hem of her Mac, trying not to look at the receptionist again for fear of bursting out in laughter. Deciding to look at her phone for equal purposes of focus (away from the receptionist) and distraction (so as to not be tempted to glance at the receptionist), she pulled the handset out of her purse. It had been a necessary requirement. Safety, photographic evidence and Tetris if the entertainment doesn’t quite cut the mustard. Holding it in her hand, just briefly glancing at the screen, she did a double-take seeing a message pop-up. She opened the message immediately. It was simple.

Penthouse. You have 5 minutes.

Almost jumping to her feet, she marched over to the elevator, the butterflies were now fluttering up a storm in her stomach, her stride confident and strong as her heels clicked on the polished marble floor beneath her. The receptionist looked up and watched her with an expression that could have soured milk. As the elevator doors opened, the attendant looked her up-and-down and smirked. She wasn’t phased; she knew how to play him. As the elevator rode to the Penthouse, her hands roamed her body, raising her leg to the rail, showing him what little she had on under the beige Mac. His grin widened, as the bulge in his pants grew.

The urge grew within her, too, her impulsive behaviour prevailing as she dropped to her knees before him, kissing his erection through the synthetic fabric of his pants. He gasped audibly as she did so, his hands hovering over her head. As her lean fingers drew the zipper down, he moaned–the elevator still rising to its destination. Running her hand through the gap, grasping him through the sheer fabric of his briefs, she looked at him and smirked. The bell sounding their arrival to the Penthouse suite chimed. She stood up and walked straight through the doors, continuing to smirk at him as she walked away, lifting her cloak, flashing her peachy rounded rear. The gobsmacked expression didn’t leave his face as the doors closed.

As she walked down the corridor, her heels sinking slightly into the carpeting, she stood proudly before the door, her excitement growing as she straightened herself up. Bracing herself, she knocked rapidly on the door and awaited her answer. After what seemed like an eternity, the door swung open: there he stood, naked but for a pair of black silk boxers that hung well on him. Her eyes drawn to them… his fingers tracing her jaw lifting her head slightly reminded her why she was there.

“Sorry.”

He nodded to her, understanding the apology, accepting it. Turning abruptly, leaving her eager for his touch again, he walked into the room behind the door, leaving it open for her to follow. His perfect ass moving so well under the silk, caressing him as he walked, she followed, her eyes unashamedly on his rear. Closing the door behind her, locking it and heading to the wall, standing there, just waiting for a response. The silence was unbearable, her head hung low, her eyes drawn to the scuff marks on her shoes. Reprimanding herself for not taking better care of them, then smirking as she remembered how the scuffs got there. His voice cutting through her thoughts like a hot knife through butter.

“You know why you are here; I am impressed with the effort in your costume. For this, you will be rewarded.” Her stomach flipped as his words of praise washed over her. She shifted her weight on the spot, eager for his touch. Desperate for him to hold her, look into her eyes and kiss her, but that wouldn’t happen. It wasn’t what she was being paid for.

His hand moved to her. She was desperate to lift her head, but she didn’t. She was a good sub. As he undid the belt on the beige Mac, it fell open, exposing her pale flesh. The bright red underwear proving a striking contrast. Her skin prickled as he ran his fingers over her stomach. She resisted the urge to press her flesh into him.

“I am surprised you came dressed like this, but as I said, it has pleased me so that you have followed orders. Now you may be rewarded. Move to the bed please. For tonight you may call me Sir, nothing else but Sir.” He lifted her chin up to see if she had acknowledged his statement, her eyes still dipped to the floor.

His open hand connecting with her cheek. Sending a stinging sensation through her that seemed to fire her up even more.

“Is that understood?” his voice firm, but not shouting, she nodded.

“Yes, Sir.”

He motioned her to the bed. Her heart dipped a little; there were no restraints, what exactly was he planning on doing?

Climbing on the to Egyptian cotton sheets, she presented her ass for him.

“No, lie down with your head hanging over the edge.” His voice like melted chocolate caressed her ears, as she turned over to please him. He ran his hand over her naked flesh, his fingers brushing her nipples just briefly, sending a jolt of electricity to her core, and causing her to gasp audibly. A smile curled his lips upward. The three-day stubble on his chin merely added to his character. His hair a rich dark brown, with silver highlights. His tuxedo only accentuating his form. She bit her lip slightly as he slowly drew his zipper down and pulled his already engorged cock out.

She licked her lips in anticipation; her core awakening. His fingers touching the delicate lace work of her undergarments. The traditional corset and bloomers highlighting her small waist, the ivory colour adding to its authenticity. Her breasts nearly spilling out from the boned corset, her mouth open, eagerly awaiting his throbbing cock, her tongue protecting her teeth as he slid his cock into her mouth, his thumbs slowly rubbing her erect nipples through the fabric, causing her to squirm as she licked around the tip, savouring the taste of his precum as he slid all the way down into her throat.

Her brown eyes twinkled with excitement, almost wishing he would fuck her throat, then and there. But, he laughed–this shocked her–and then he ran his roughened hand over her cheek.

“Soon, sweet.”

 

To be continued…