Pour toi Pascal...

When I first started to work, I was helped by an older colleague. She was a lovely lady, almost twenty years older than me. She showed me the dos and don’ts of the business, listened to my problems, and was of good advice in every situation.

“No fuck at work,” she used to say. “Too risky, not worthwhile. There are enough other places, so just don’t.”

For a while, I had listened to her advice, particularly when I launched my independent business. Several years later, I was firmly established in the field and successful. I had disregarded this advice only twice, and learnt my lessons. The trouble that came with it wasn’t worth it. No fuck at work.

I am a conference interpreter. That means I am the person who shows up smartly dressed, disappears into a booth or next to the stage, and you get my voice in your headset with the translation of the language that is spoken on stage. I like my job, have several teams in my service, and deal with my clients. I work and travel a lot, which means some other things aren’t working out quite that well. Such as my sex life.

That day, I had just arrived at the site of a huge event. Everything had been prepared well, the booth was up, the technician had everything ready. It was to be an English-French event. I went into the booth. There was only one short sequence that needed translation, which is why I was going to work alone. While I was taking out my computer and connecting it, I saw I had received a text message.

“Hi Sarah, feel like catching up? Love, Pete.”

Ugh. No, just no. I had gone out with him several times after having matched on Tinder. He was nice and friendly, but eventually, when we had ended up at my flat and getting to business, he came in my mouth very quickly and then pulled up his pants and left.

I fired back an “Out of town for now! C U”

I then stared at my screen in frustration. For the last year, my love and sex life had been a true disaster, and my pussy resented it bitterly. Sometimes, hands and toys just weren’t enough. I thought back to my relation with Ron, who had been more than a regular fuck friend for a long time. Much more. He had been my master, my teacher, my guide; my first thought in the morning and my pleasure. Anyway. Right now, it looked like even getting just some regular good sex wasn’t in the cards for me.

I heard a light knock on the window of the booth. I opened the door and went out; these booths are very small and not very inviting. It was one of the assistants, followed by a tall man.

“Are you Ms…?”

I shook her hand. “Sarah McLaughlin, nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you. Mr. Brown asked me to introduce Mr. Simon Thomas to you. He is our main speaker today, and Mr. Brown said it would be good if you could have a word about the content of his speech with him.”

I turned my eyes to the man. “Nice to meet you,” I said.

He shook my hand, and held it just one second too long. I was almost blown away. A stunner! Tall, slim, strong, and with bright blue eyes that were now looking down at me.

“Yes, it is indeed,” he said.

* * *

After the conference, I packed up my bag, went to say goodbye to the staff, and headed for the train. I got an iced-coffee and waited at the platform while checking my messages. Nothing more from Pete; good. Somebody put his hand on my shoulder. I whirled around and there he was, Simon Thomas. 

“I just wanted to say thank you for the translation. It was fascinating to hear you.”

“Well thank you! Glad you liked it.”

“I did. I was hoping, though, you would say something dirty.”

Wow. That was straightforward.

“I’m not sure the English speakers would have appreciated it, and I don’t usually do that kind of thing when on a job.”

“You should," he said. "We Americans would appreciate it. We’re not as prudish as you guys. Where are you from, by the way? Your English doesn’t sound French, which is a nice change.”

“I’m half Scottish, half French.”

“And in bed, are you Scottish or French?”

“I am… my own brand.” I felt slightly uncomfortable, as if had lost the code for these flirting games, but also very pleased and excited at the same time. 

“Where are you headed?” Simon Thomas asked.

“Going to B for a connecting train, and you?”

“Going to B as well. This is great!”

Usually, I like to be on my own. But not this time.

The train arrived and we boarded. There weren’t many people on it. We chatted lightly. He got two pints of bitter for us and I couldn’t have been more pleased with my day. He had stretched out on his bench, and his legs touched mine. The tension was there alright, but I didn’t dare take the first step. I did reply to his innuendos, though, and it didn’t take long until the talk went into a certain direction.

“Are you always going like this after people you don’t know?” I asked him.

“Only when the ‘people’ are cute like you and were staring as openly at my crotch as you did.”

Oops. Well then… I decided to take my jacket off and looked straight at him when I did so slowly, moving my body a little more than necessary. My top was light and small. 

“You’re… wow," he said. “You have a tattoo. Bad girl! Let me see.” 

I pulled the strap of my top down so he could see the lines of my tattoo that went from my neckline over my shoulder blade to the middle of my back. He stared at me, smiling but watching me very intensely.

“Pull it further down," he said. 

I hesitated for a second, looked around me and then lowered it further, so he could get a glimpse of my breast in its bra, then pulled it up quickly again. “No fuck at work,” I heard Hannah say in my mind. Fuck! I couldn’t help but looking at his pants, thinking of the size of what he was hiding in there. He followed my eyes.

“Wanna see?” and he began to open his belt. 

“Not here.”

He got up and stretched out his hand. 

“Then come with me,” he said. 

No fuck at work. And that probably included trains.

“No,” I said. “We’re nearly there.”

He stooped down unexpectedly and kissed me. It wasn’t a kiss; it was different. He opened me up through my mouth with his tongue. His touch was determined as he slid his hand down into my shirt. 

“Come on," he said again, and I got up and followed him into the toilets. He locked the door behind us, unbuckled his belt, and pulled his pants down. He sat on the loo and I didn’t lose any time, getting on my knees to take his straight and hard cock in my mouth. And what a cock! We had less than ten minutes left and I decided to enjoy myself, sucking him in, licking his shaft, taking him deeper and faster. I squeaked with delight when he pushed his hand into my bra and began stimulating my breast, but instead of the soft caresses, he pulled and pinched my nipple hard. I raised my eyes to him. 

He put his hand on my head. “Suck,” he commanded, before pulling my hair and holding my head so he could fuck my mouth and lead the dance himself. He came just as the train arrived in B, filling my mouth with his cum. I tried to swallow it all, but some ended up on my face, chin, and hands. I had a connecting train to catch and very little time, so pulled myself together and grabbed my bag. 

He sighed. “I want to see you again.” 

I wanted to see him again. He scribbled his phone number on a toilet roll and I took it, heading out just in time and running for my connection. I couldn’t miss that train – and didn’t, luckily. 

Once I was on that train, I rubbed my face dry and then pulled out my mobile phone and the paper roll, looking at it. It wasn’t really fuck at work. He had been the guest speaker of the client, not the client himself, I argued with Hannah in my mind. And there had been this moment, when he pinched my nipples. Could he be what I thought he was, or was I imagining it all?

I shot off a text to him, “I’ve got cum on my hands.”

He replied almost instantly, “Not sorry. Want more? When?”

Fuck. What now? I texted back. “How long are you staying before u go back to the US?”

“Not going to the US for now, next stop Switzerland. Definitely need an interpreter.”

Yes of course he did. 

He followed up with: “In B until 8th. Hôtel Perle du Lac. Come and see me. Tonight?”

“Can’t”

“Tomorrow?”

“When?”

“Any time after 6 pm”

I hesitated for a long time. I didn’t know the man. “What R you into?”

He might or might not confirm what I had felt. Maybe I was going crazy. But even if I had imagined it, he still was probably a good fuck. I couldn’t let that chance go by, could I?

“Almost anything... Oral, anal, group, men, women – you name it.”

Bugger – it didn’t say BDSM. Still, not bad news as such. 

“And you?” he asked.

“Anything as long as it’s good.”

“It will be – I want 2 fuck U so badly right now.”

Nice. Time for a message in a bottle. “Actually, I like BDSM. Will you have to google that?” I stared at my screen, wondering if I had gone too far.

“Girl, come and see me and I will show you what Google doesn’t. Teach you.”

Oh great, another superman. But still… “I will be there.”

And I leaned back and closed my eyes. There was my white rabbit. 

* * *

Standing before the door of room 301, I took a look at my mobile at Simon’s text.

“Knock, come in. Undress next to the door. Leave everything behind. I am waiting for you.”

Oh fuck. That could have been something Ron would have written. Only I had known Ron so much better, trusted him.

I knocked, went in. Put my bag down and undressed, and then went straight around the corner.

Simon was expecting me, waiting naked right there. He gripped me by my neck and forced me down on my knees. He then roped my long hair around his hand before making me turn my head to face him. He kissed me. Again, it wasn’t a kiss. It was a way of taking possession.

“Good you came, naughty,” Simon whispered.

“And a good afternoon to you too," I replied.

He laughed, but kept me down, hovering over me. “We need a safe word," he said.

I felt an intense relief. He knew the game and its rules.

“Dormouse," I said.

“Okay. I want to tie you down on the bed. Can you take it?”

I almost laughed out loud. Could I take it? “Go ahead," I said, smiling at him.

“I knew you were a little slut, right from when I first saw you," Simon smiled back.

I started to feel terribly happy and excited.

He drew me up by my hair and then pushed me down on the bed, gave me a slap on my butt, and commanded me to turn around, which I did. His hand went fishing under the bed and came up with a rope which he tied around my wrists. I watched him and he knew how to do it the right way. This was standard bondage I knew! He finished by attaching the rope to the upper side of the bed, and then pulled a pillowcase over my head.

“Got ya, little slut,” he said, sounding very satisfied. “Let’s see what’s below the surface, Miss Business.”

I smiled, which he couldn’t see.

“Now it’s question and answer time before I decide what I’ll do with you.”

He slowly ran his finger down my throat towards my breasts which made me shiver. It had been so long…

“Just how much experience do you have?” he asked.

“I was with a master for almost two years," I said. “Some time ago.”

“Was that the first time?”

“Yes.”

“He introduced you to BDSM?”

“Yes.”

“Was he good?”

“Oh bloody hell. Yes.”

His fingers were now circling my breasts, slowly at first, then faster and then suddenly closing tight and pinching my nipples, pulling them upwards. I let out a moan.

“Why are you no longer with him?”

“Long story.”

Simon pinched and pulled harder, making me wince.

“Bad answer.”

“He moved away and the long distance thing didn’t work out for me.”

He eased up a little. “That’s better, although it doesn’t sound like the whole truth.”

He was right, it wasn’t. But it would have been too long, too painful to tell him.

“When did you have sex the last time?”

“Well, I gave a blowjob to somebody yesterday," I said. In reply, he pulled one of my legs towards him and slapped my butt.

“Cheeky, the little slut. When were you fucked properly the last time?”

“By him, about a year ago. Laid nicely, roughly six weeks ago.” Simon’s fingers were now on my butt, slowly caressing my skin. I was so hungry, so needy that I felt my body react electrically to everything he did.

“That’s a long time, and you don't want it nice from what I see," he said. He leaned on me, left his hand on my ass with his fingers poking my asshole. My pussy was waking up more and more, begging for attention.

He was now lying on me; I knew he was turned on.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, girl. In your pussy, in your ass, in your mouth,. You have no idea all the things I want to do to you.”

I moaned again. I simply couldn’t hold back. His naked and strong body on mine, the bonds on my hands, just being with him was enough to make me wet and hungry for his cock. He lay on me, adjusted his position, and then thrust into my pussy as hard and deep as he could. I hadn’t expected this, but pushed my hips against his, wanting him deeper inside me. I moaned and moved with him. Breathing fast, he grabbed and squeezed my breast before moving his hand down on my ass, pushing a finger into my brown hole, pulling it out, slapping my ass, and then pushing his finger back in.

I moaned and followed all of his moves. I needed this strong body crushing me under his weight, needed his hard cock, needed this fuck. I pulled at the rope that held my wrists. The pillowcase stuck to the sweat on my face

“Fuck me harder,” I begged.

So he did. Harder and faster. I spread up my legs as much as I could and pulled my knees up… and felt the wave I had been longing for for so long building up. I tensed my muscles around his cock and let it come. Better to take it while you can, and moaned my desire into the soft fabric of the pillowcase as my orgasm swept though me.

Simon didn’t last long after that, filling my pussy with his cum. I loved the pulsing sensation, loved feeling his cum shooting inside me, but as soon as my mind started working again, I felt worried. Please don’t tell me that was it for him, that he thinks tying somebody on the bed, pinching her nipples and fucking her is BDSM. That now we’re done.

He was still lying on me, with his cock still inside me.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I needed this so badly, I couldn’t wait longer.”

“That’s okay,” I replied. What else could I have said?

He pulled the pillowcase off my face and looked at me. I almost felt like crying at this point. Another day, another deception. Now we would have a drink and maybe a smoke and I would go home and try and calm down with my dildo until I was sore and still remain frustrated… again.

He smiled at me.

“You were so wet, Sarah," he said.

I nodded. Hell, I knew I was. What else was he going to tell me? That Paris was in France? He looked at me.

Then, suddenly, he pulled out of me and crouched on top of me.

“This needs cleaning up, slut,” he said, and stuffed his still firm cock into my mouth.

Ah?

I licked and sucked him clean, getting lots of his cum and my own juice which made for a delicious mix. He proceeded to finger my pussy, collecting our mingled juices, which he then fed to me. No attempt to untie me, and I found myself hoping again. A little, at least. I sucked his fingers and then began rubbing my teeth against them, lightly at first, but then biting him properly. He swore and pulled his finger out.

“That means punishment, slut.”

With that, he got off me, pulled me down so the rope would bite into my skin and then pulled my legs over his lap. His moves were fast but without haste, and none of his gestures displayed any hesitation. This, and the fact that he didn’t seem to be “done,” made me twitch with impatience and pleasure. He stroked my ass cheeks firmly and spanked me, hard, and then harder.

My skin began to react as he sped up his pace. Twitching turned into burning and before I knew it, my whole bottom was on fire. Had I really longed for this? I couldn’t hold back any longer and moaned into the pillow. He stopped and I felt him bend down to pick something up from under the bed. Then he slapped me again, sending another round of shockwaves through my body.

“Not enough yet for you to apologize?”

And he slammed something down on my ass cheeks. What was that? On the second blow, I recognised the feel. Fuck! A paddle. I had always found the paddle to be particularly painful, as instead of inflicting straight pain, it would administer a strong stinging sensation that lasted on and on. He again rubbed my cheeks, as if wanting to prepare them. Wham! Down came the paddle again.

“Fuck,” I screamed.

Wham!

Now my behind was properly boiling.

Wham!

I winced again.

He leaned over my back. “You like the paddle, don’t you, cheeky," he hummed into my ear while crushing my body as hard as he could. “I can feel your ass getting hotter by the second. Tell me you like it.”

“I like it," I managed to say.

“Show me. Kiss it.” He pressed the paddle against my lips.

I pressed my lips against it in return. Fuck!

“Hmm. Now you’re going to lick it. Make it nice and damp, and then I’ll carry on. And I am still waiting for your apology.”

Simon crushed me harder and grabbed my hair with his other hand while still holding the paddle against my mouth. I reluctantly licked the hard surface.

“Make it wetter," he ordered.

I licked and licked, sometimes coughing, caught up between a slight feeling of disgust because of its taste and a wild and terrible lust for this game to last. He finally seemed satisfied and resumed his former position. He slapped the paddle down hard and fast on my ass and backs of my thighs. The stinging pain that had eased off a little during the “break” came roaring back, the dampness of the paddle adding to the intensity. He kept it up, until, finally, I had had enough.

“I’m sorry,” I screamed, when I managed to catch my breath. “Fuck. I am so sorry.” Tears streamed down my face. I hadn’t remembered that part of pain so well.

“Had enough?” he asked.

“Oh, God, yes. Sorry, Simon, I am sorry.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, and his voice sounded a little worried.

“Yes," I panted.

“Very good," he replied and then crouched astride my face, positioning his ass over my mouth. “Lick, slut,” he ordered.

Damn, rimming. Not really my cup of tea, but so be it. I stretched out my tongue and explored his ass. Gliding along his ass, first circling it, and then I began poking his opening, going back and forth between the two moves. Simon groaned lightly. His obvious pleasure turned me on. I was still out of breath, crushed by his weight, and felt relief when he lifted his ass off me, but it only lasted for a second, as the next second he stuffed his cock in my mouth. Deprived of my hands and taken by surprise, I could only do my best to get my teeth away from him as he slowly fucked my mouth, going deeper and deeper at each stroke. Then he pulled out and gave me his ass again. I really needed a breather now, and my tongue must have betrayed my lack of enthusiasm. He lifted his ass, slapped my face, smiled at me, and ordered me to do better.

I couldn’t help it, I loved it. The slap, being cornered by him in this way, all of it. I licked his ass, then kissed his brown hole, sometimes poking him with my tongue at the same time, sometimes not. He continued to switch back and forth, feeding me his cock, then his ass. I started tasting quite a bit of precum, which I then spread on his ass with my tongue. Soon my mouth and face were as wet as his crotch.

While he was fucking my face again, my phone rang. I jumped. I had forgotten about this call that was to come, and it was important.

“I must take this call," I begged. Simon got off me, went to the entrance and I heard him search in my bag and come back with my phone.

“It says ‘James Larson,’” he said.

“Yeah, that’s work, it’s important," I pleaded with him. I was trying to clean my face on the pillow. He pressed reply and put the phone to my ear, while taking away the pillow, smiling at me.

“Hello, James?” I said.

“Yeah, hi,” he replied. “How are you?”

“I’m good," I said, trying to take in the irony of being tied up on a bed with cock and ass juice on my face while talking to one of my employees about professional behavior. Simon seemed to enjoy the situation, using the pillow he had taken from me to prop the phone against my ear. He moved down to my pussy. He rubbed my ass, which immediately responded by sending out heat waves to my brain through its sore skin.

“Look, I know I’ve messed up,” James continued.

“Well, we both know you did," I responded, trying to sound firm and to not moan as Simon began to stuff his fingers into my pussy.

“The client didn’t notice though," he argued.

“I noticed,” I said. “And it’s got to do with trust. How can I work with you if you’re not showing yourself to be thrustworthy?” Of course I hadn’t meant to say ‘thrustworthy,’ and my Freudian slip wasn’t lost on Simon, who began finger fucking my pussy. He bent down to suck my clit. Fuck!

“Look,” James said. “If you give me another chance, I promise I’ll be there on time and do the whole professional service like you want it.”

I couldn’t stifle a slight moan.

“Are you there?” he asked.

“Yes, I am,” I managed to say just before Simon pushed his fingers into me again and nearly cut off my breath.

“Okay. So what do you say?”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“You mean, it’s okay for tomorrow?”

I tried to pull my pussy away from Simon. I had to focus, but as soon as I had, he pulled my leg to one side and went for my ass again, spreading my cheeks and fingering my asshole.

“Yes, it’s okay. But look, if you don’t stop, I mean, if you’re not on time and not dressed appropriately, I am going to spank your ass.” Simon looked at me, and immediately brought his hand down on my ass. I was worried that James might have heard it, but he was laughing.

“Okay, you can do that," he said. “I promise I will be there on time. Do I need to wear a tie?”

“Yeah, a tie would be good," I said, while trying to pull my legs away from Simon.

“Okay, so see you at eight at the centre,” he said.

“Good,” I said. “See you then.”

And I waited to hear him hang up before I started kicking Simon.

“You… you bugger,” I scolded, half laughing, half serious. “I don’t want to miss out on this contract because some guy can’t be bothered to be on time.”

“You wanna spank his ass?” Simon asked back, before positioning me and spanking mine some more.

“Take that phone away," I said, while struggling against his grip and his hands. He bent over me, put the phone on the floor after making sure it was turned off and put his full weight on me. I am rather petite, and he weighted easily twice as much.

“Miss Businesswoman," he mocked me. “Miss Know-it-all, Miss-I-am-the-Boss, Miss I-Speak-Several-Languages, Miss Professional, Miss Business-suit. Hiding her tattoos and all the naughtiness while staring at people’s crotches. Look at you! All mine, all tied up, rimming me, fucked and spanked. Maybe I should send a photo or two to Mr. Brown.”

I felt a brief surge of panic. No fuck at work, I knew it. Simon could mess me up so badly.

He kissed me, hard, pushing his tongue into me. “You smell of me. Of my ass, of my cock.”

“Simon, you can’t.”

“Yes I can. But maybe I won’t,” he said, with a small sparkle in his eyes. “But what I will do is this.”

He sat up and pushed his cock into my mouth. He fucked my face slowly and deliberately deep, then moved down and positioned his cock between my breasts. He pressed his hands on them to hold it and went into a slow, fucking movement while crushing my breasts and nipples between his fingers. He stopped, moved further down, to my pussy, giving me several hard thrusts, holding back for a minute, then pushing into me some more.

“And now your ass," he said, as if he had to fulfill a program. Again, he turned me around and pulled the pillowcase back over my eyes. I felt him bend down and go fishing under the bed.

“What is it?” I asked.

“It’s a shutupsarah," he replied. He bent over me again and inserted something into my mouth, fixing it behind my neck. It took me a second to recognize it. A penis gag - or a pecker, as we call it. A big one. Oh fuck! This guy was going farther than I had thought he would. The pecker filled my mouth but left enough space so I could breathe. Interestingly, it had been the only type of gag that had worked for me when I was with Ron. Simon lifted the pillowcase. I was still fighting him.

“Listen Sarah, if you need your password, you go like this. Oh-oh-oh. Three times. I promise I will get it out immediately, okay?”

I nodded, while still getting used to the rubber penis that filled my mouth. Shit.

He smiled.

“So, Businesswoman can’t speak anymore, can she?” he teased me. He went as far as to sit up and bring his cock to my face. I stared at it, wanting it, pulling against the rope that held my hands. He teased me, stroked my face, made me smell his cock, rubbed it under my nose. I raged inside and outside.

He pulled the pillowcase over my head again. “I need you to be quiet, we’re in a hotel, after all. And you haven’t been properly fucked for so long, poor little girl. We need to catch up, don’t we? I hope you went to the loo before coming here, but if not, I couldn’t care less.”

With this, he climbed off me and put his hands on my ass. He smeared something around my asshole and then pushed something inside. A small vibrator? What was this?

I got the answer when I heard a light pumping sound and felt my ass stretching. This was a fucking inflatable butt plug! I raged and lashed out, trying to get away from him. It only made him trap one of my legs under him and smack my ass before continuing to blow air into the pump. I squealed around the gag, wildly bit into it. My ass stretched and stretched, feeling like it would tear, before he finally stopped. His tongue rimmed and teased me. Then he alternated between his tongue and hard slaps on my cheeks and I felt like I was going to lose it.

Simon stopped and I shuddered. I realised he was getting yet something else from under the bed. He positioned me sideways, pushing one of my legs upwards. He licked my pussy and fucked me with his tongue, which very quickly became too much in my horribly aroused state. I felt an overwhelming urge to cum, to scream, to pee, to get rid of the butt plug. But right then, his tongue withdrew and his finger glided into my pussy.

“Nice and wet," he said.

Something thick and blunt touched my pussy, first teasingly, then inexorably penetrating me. He was DP-ing me with a huge dildo! I screamed and wailed into the penis gag as he almost tore me apart, pushing the dildo in deeper and deeper. When he was satisfied, he closed my legs.

“You hold both of there,” he said. “If you push them out, I’ll make things worse for you, Miss Orderly. No cheeky.”

I obeyed, being by then hypnotised by the pain, the desire, the waves that kept washing over my body.

Simon got up and hauled me upwards on the bed, retying the rope that held my wrists closer to the frame. He then grabbed my feet and tied something around them, which he then also fastened, probably to the lower bed frame. He had stopped speaking, just as I had stopped moaning. In this silence, I could only guess what he was doing and listen to my own heavy breathing.

Then something hit the soles of my feet, making me jump at the sting. Or would have, if I could have moved. I recognized the tool as a flogger. Simon whipped my feet from all sides, then moved up my legs, to my knees, on up my thighs. He spared my pussy, giving it only a light stroke, before continuing with much harder strokes on my belly and breasts, almost all the way to my throat.

He stroked the flogger over my face through the pillowcase, then the whipping resumed, this time descending my body from my shoulders to my breasts, belly, legs and finally ending with several strikes on my soles.

By that time, my whole body was shaking uncontrollably. My mind was racing and incoherent, I felt like I would blow up. Simon had been very thorough, every part of my body was burning now, my skin on fire, my pussy and ass still stretched to the brim. I was completely, utterly, desperately and happily alive! He untied my legs. I heard a buckle fall to the floor. Slowly, he pulled both the butt plug and the dildo out of me, then the penis gag, and, finally, he removed the pillowcase. I knew I looked a huge mess with tears, make up, and spit over my face, but he ignored it and gently kissed my mouth.

“Say what you want, Sarah," he murmured into my mouth.

“Fuck me,” I yelled into his.

His hand reached down to my pussy, tweaked my throbbing clit, touched my stretched asshole, poking it, teasing it. I thought I was going to burst. I arched my back and pushed my pussy upward towards his cock and he finally gave in and thrust into me slowly, but firmly. I hugged him with my burning legs to pull him in further. He finally started to fuck me harder and faster. My orgasm had been on the verge of breaking loose for too long, and when it came, it almost cut off my breath. I wailed into his mouth and then into his shoulders while he continued fucking me, burying his cock deep inside me, holding me tight, and crushing me at the same time.

Soon, he groaned and again shot his cum inside me, warm and deep, while I swam in wave after wave after wave of ecstasy.

I think I almost passed out. When my senses came back to me, my hands were free and I was snuggled in his arms. I looked at him, not really knowing what to say. All my muscles were shaking.

“Bloody hell,” I said at last.

“You’re okay?”

“What do you think?”

“I think you were in dire need," he said, and kissed my face.

“This was incredible," I said, feeling strangely, deeply, finally satisfied.

“Hmm,” he acknowledged, eyes half closed.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

“Yeah, but I’ve got something to tell you though.”

Fuck. He is married, he is ill, something like that. There was always a catch. Fuck fuck fuck. No fuck at work, no fuck at work, no fuck at work. Oh, Hanna!

“What is it?” I asked.

He propped up on his elbow, looking at me expectantly. “I loved that, Sarah. Promise me you’ll come back.”

“Promise you? Give me a very good reason not to.”

He smiled. Then he turned towards the desk next to the window. There was an open laptop I hadn’t noticed. Its screen showed an Excel file. He closed the file, then turned around to show me.

“Ron says ‘Hi’,” Simon said.

And from the screen, right under the blinking webcam, Ron smiled and waved at me.

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Many thanks to Visioneer and the admin who helped me on this!