It was lunchtime, and since it was a lovely warm day, Louise decided to take her lunch to the park. It wasn’t far, just next door to her office block - in fact, she could see most of the park from her desk on the fourth floor.

The picnic area could be found in the middle of the park, surrounded by a ring of beautifully red-barked Prunus serrula (Tibetan cherry) trees. Most of the picnic benches had already been taken, primarily by groups of other office workers and yummy mummies.

There was one table left, which Louise sat at with her back to her office building. For just half an hour, she wanted not to think about endless dull paperwork. Her lunch consisted of an egg salad sandwich, a packet of salt and vinegar crisps, a tiny bar of chocolate, and a crisp pink lady apple, all purchased from the supermarket around the corner. As she ate, she read the latest entry from her favourite romance series on her e-reader.

‘Is anyone sitting here?’ a voice asked.

Louise looked up. It was a handsome younger man, about ten years younger than her (she was in her mid-forties). Despite being exceptionally well dressed in an expensive suit, tie, shoes polished to within an inch of their lives, and a Swiss wristwatch, he looked uncomfortable. She thought he’d look much happier wearing more casual attire.

‘May I?’ He motioned towards the empty seat opposite her.

Flustered and realising she’d been staring at him for over a minute, she said, ‘Yes! P-p-please, sit.’

He smiled and sat. His lunch was just in a brown paper bag. There was a homemade cheese and pickle sandwich, a few carrot and celery sticks, and the plumpest-looking peach Louise had ever seen. They both sat in silence as they ate, occasionally smiling at each other as they read. He had a tatty old copy of Charles Dickens’s Nicholas Nickleby.

Watching him was a pleasure - not just because he was one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen (and she knew that to be true considering how wet she was getting), but because she realised who he was. The man in front of her was none other than Ryan Simcox, one of the country’s wealthiest people with an estimated worth of around £2.7 billion. He was also the CEO of the very company she worked for - Simcox Engineering. No wonder he looked uncomfortable in his suit - he usually wore casual clothes. Louise suddenly became very self-conscious that she was eating with her boss (or, at least, her boss’s boss’s boss’s boss). However, glancing around, no one else seemed to have realised who he was. She tried unsuccessfully to concentrate on her book and not stare, but the peach made this impossible.

Ryan had finished the rest of his lunch and put away his book. He rested his elbows on the table, peach in hand, and stared at Louise. Ryan licked the peach’s suture, essentially its crevice, which unexpectedly thrilled her. She met his gaze, and he smiled again before carefully peeling back the skin with his teeth. Then, still maintaining eye contact, he started to gently lick the exposed flesh.

She was transfixed. Without realising she was doing it, Louise carefully lowered her right hand and slipped it down her trousers to her pussy. She carefully started playing with herself so as not to draw any attention, matching her finger movements to the motion of his tongue. When Ryan stuck his tongue deep within the peach’s juicy flesh, she dutifully copied, even if it meant fighting her convulsions. She felt her lips close tightly around her fingers as she stroked her clit.

His tongue manipulated the peach vigorously, sucking up as much juice as possible, but letting the rest dribble down his chin, letting some even splash onto his suit. As he devoured the rest of his peach, Louise tensed her whole body, fighting against the oncoming orgasm so that no one around her would notice.

At last, she came. Her fingers, along with her panties and, unfortunately, her trousers, were soaked. Ryan drank the last of his water and gathered up his rubbish. He tore off a bit of his lunch bag, scribbled something on it, and slid it across to her.

‘Call me.’

He left, and Louise was absolutely sure of three things: one, thank goodness no one else noticed her little orgasm; two, she needed to change her clothes; and three, she would undoubtedly be making a phone call later that day!