Dinner is Ready

Dinner is Ready

She sipped her second glass of Prosecco as dinner cooked. Bubbles danced on her tongue before the cold liquid slipped slowly down her throat. Bronwyn checked her phone before sneaking into her photos. Her screen lit up with the shot she’d taken of his face as he slept the week before. His beard squashed by the pillow, and his delicate eyelashes framing his eyes. The photo cut above his chest, which she knew was covered in hair that she ran her fingers through when they cuddled. That’s when she wasn’t scraping her nails slowly down his skin, teasing him before brushing her fingertips against his growing erection.

Had it been a whole week since he’d been inside her? His work took him all over the country, but every weekend Penn came back to her. Sometimes they’d screw and sleep, and other days they’d see the city. She brushed crumbs from the tabletop, remembering that was where he’d had her the week before when they were supposed to be eating breakfast. Instead, he’d run his hands beneath the t-shirt she’d stolen from him before pushing it up and licking every inch of skin she made available to him.

For months they’d been carrying on like this. It had started as an Instagram DM, and now six months later, they spent every moment they weren’t working together. So was this the weekend to try and define their relationship, or would she be pushing him somewhere he didn’t want to be?

She didn’t want to lose him, and not because he was the best sex she’d had. It was true he understood her body in a way no one else had. He responded to her moans and let her try things her exes had been too reluctant to consider. A month earlier, they’d tried blindfolds and tying up. It had been safe and sexy and had been a reminder that he was the only one she wanted for the foreseeable future. But the reasons she didn’t want to lose him went beyond that. They laughed all the time, including during awkward sex moments like when her Fitbit had hit ten thousand steps during a blow job. He was someone she felt safe with, and when he returned to her at the weekends, she gave him a space to be himself. People had hurt him before, and he became a little more at peace with who he was with each moment they spent together. But more than any of this, she’d never felt so alive until he’d been in her world. Every day was an adventure she was excited to meet. He had done this for her, and she wanted it for longer. But what did he want?

Bronwyn rechecked her phone. Five minutes until he was due to arrive. She read his text from half an hour ago again. It was mostly made up of expletives. He wasn’t very good at talking to Siri. The messages were all the same, something attempting sexy turning into a mistake and then telling Siri to fuck off at the end. This one had an added, “let’s talk this weekend”, though. Was this the beginning of the end, or did he want the same as her? I can’t get my hopes up.

She sipped her prosecco to ease the tension that had heightened all day before lifting her feet and rolling her ankles one by one. Instead, she focused on the pain at the balls of her feet from her four-inch heels she refused to remove before he arrived. If he asked, Bronwyn would suggest she hadn’t had time to change from her blue pencil skirt that hugged her bottom and her black blouse that clung to her breasts. But she’d had enough time to change and add the underwear that reminded her she was sexy and sassy.

She rolled her ankle again, satisfied when it made a slight clicking sound. But these little attempts at distracting herself weren’t enough. Earlier that day, Bronwyn’s colleagues had accused her of being doe-eyed when in reality, she was replaying the moment she’d gone down on him in the shower. It wasn’t textbook sexy, especially the moment the water had gone up her nose when she’d wrapped her lips around his dick. But the way he flicked her hair off the back of her neck before holding it in his palm as he moaned the nickname only the two of them knew had made it impossible to focus. Having him in her mouth was a turn on that never seemed to stop. She wanted to jump him when he arrived, but he’d been in meetings all day, and dinner was nearly ready. Food first and then maybe the conversation.

His key scratched the lock. Bronwyn caught her reflection in the oven door. With some well-applied makeup, she didn’t look as weary as she felt. Lipstick in the colour of pink haze emphasised the bow of her lips, and her eyelashes were long and perfect for fluttering and getting her way.

She smoothed down her pencil skirt and dipped her hand into her bra to shift her boobs higher. The lady at the wedding dress shop where her sister had purchased her wedding gown had shown her this tactic. The slight readjustment gave her irresistible cleavage. She gave herself a quick wink in the oven and then laughed. It was just another tactic to calm her down. The wedding was another reason to define their relationship. She had a plus one but hadn’t risked mentioning it. The wedding was in less than a month, and she couldn’t avoid asking him any longer. But what if that meant the end of everything?

The creek of her front door was followed by the thud of his bags in the hallway. Her belly thumped harder. Lust was like a wrecking ball striking her so hard that she wanted to bend double. How had the presence of this man become something that clouded her entire being with arousal?

“Where’s my kiss, Bruny?” he growled from the hallway. Earlier in the day, he’d requested a picture of her outfit. He did this every day, and sometimes she’d respond with an eye roll emoji and other times, she was more than happy to oblige. It might be from an angle that showed off her chest or her thighs. That always drove him wild. She’d never understood what it was about her thighs he loved. It had been one of her most hated body parts, but she’d learnt to love them since him. That day she’d sent him a couple of shots. Each vibration of her phone when he replied had made her body hum with need. Finally, at his last message, she’d gasped loud enough to draw the attention of her closest co-worker.

“I won’t be happy until I feel those thighs on my cheeks as you straddle my face.”

He was too good to lose. Couldn’t he be a bastard instead of a secret nice guy? He carried the air of arsehole, and he’d once chuckled at how he looked for excuses to shout at his team. One had been scared to bring back his lunch because they’d only been able to buy a turkey sandwich when he’d asked for chicken. But with her, he was more than an arsehole. She couldn’t deny that he had an air of arrogance, even in the bedroom, but his understanding of her needs went beyond that. Whether it was messaging to tell her she’d made his heart flutter when she’d told him he’d made her smile or that he’d stepped out of a work meeting on “important business” because she’d sent him images while trying to decide her outfit for her job interview. He was there for her in a way that terrified her, but she craved it all the same.

“Bruny,” he called out using the nickname he’d given her. “I’m still waiting for that kiss.”

If any man from her past had asked where their kiss was, she’d have rolled her eyes and told them to fuck off. She often told him to fuck off too, but partly to make him laugh, which it always did. With his local accent and deep voice, the ripple of need pulled her out of the kitchen. She rested against the doorway and smirked as he took her in. His gaze dropped to her black heels and slowly climbed. She shifted awkwardly. His eye fuck was as much a game as the messages that had flown between them all day.

“Fuck, Princess. You kept that on for me?” Another thing that would have made her roll her eyes if she heard it between other couples. Did he think he was an Eastend gangster? And yet, when he called her Princess, it teased her as intimately as if he’d run a finger down her spine while she waited for him in the shower. He shrugged off his suit jacket, leaving him in fitted dark trousers and a white shirt. Casual or smart, she didn’t care but there was still something about the way he rolled up his sleeves, one arm at a time.

She shrugged. “I didn’t have time to change.”

“Not even your shoes, it seems,” he replied unconvinced. His mouth twitched in amusement as his gaze paused at thighs before travelling up to her eyes. “I want you on the stairs right now.”

Bronwyn locked eyes with him. “But dinner is ready, sweet cheeks, and I can’t have you going hungry.”

He cleared his throat noisily. “That hasn’t stopped you from sending me teasing photos and messages all day. Where did you say you wanted my mouth again?” he replied, his eyes burning a hole through her skirt. “Stairs now.”

She licked her lips and turned on her heel, striding back into the kitchen. “Dinner first,” she replied over her shoulder, sassily swaying her hips, confident he would be unable to resist her tease as the beep of the oven timer acted as a soundtrack to her steps.

Penn’s grumbling from the hallway made her smile as she took the lasagne out of the oven. The cheese bubbled, and her belly responded in frustration. But her thoughts remained on him. She didn’t want this to be their last weekend together, but if their thing wasn’t going anywhere, she couldn’t keep doing this. I’m falling for him. She’d planned her week to maximise distractions in case this was it between them. He had become her every day. With his morning messages and goodnight gifs, she couldn’t imagine her days without him. He helped her through her difficult days, and she hoped she did the same for him.

And what if I compare all future sex to ours? Her partners came up short compared to him. But it would have to be a goodbye. Maybe I don’t have to say anything this weekend. There was always next weekend. But she couldn’t avoid the inevitable forever.

Bronwyn took a deep breath. Aromas of freshly cooked tomatoes and hot melted cheese filled the air.

Penn’s lips skimmed her neck. She closed her eyes and moaned quietly.

“Bruny, tell me about your day,” he whispered, easing in behind her. Had he sensed she was struggling with something? How could she tell him that work had barely entered her thoughts? It was all him. Her skin tingled where the wetness from his lips remained.

Her pussy twitched as he aligned himself against her curves. She wriggled her bum against him needing to feel him even if it was only for one more weekend. I need to write him onto my body as much as he’s written into my mind. Only Penn could ease the torture of her day, even when it was him who tortured her. Whether she was laughing or crying, his presence and humour were a respite from everything from callous subordinates to suffering family members. He made each day better, and she had to prepare for the moment she lost that for good.

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can I leave it at the door for tonight?” Bronwyn asked softly, hoping he would gauge her mood and not push her.

He pulled the elastic that kept her hair together in a ponytail out. Penn threaded his fingers roughly through the strands causing slight stinging sensations that reached up to her scalp. She gasped and let out a slow breath before leaning into his touch. His body was hard against hers. The twitch at his crotch was a reminder that sex was never far from either of their minds.

She bristled as Penn worked out a knot. It pulled at her scalp, causing a sting of pain. It was another moment where she focused on him and not the fear of the future. With a breath so deep that it made her chest rise and fall, she let his scent fill her. It was as if it was him and not the woody smell latching on to something oceanic and fresh filled her cells as they travelled around her body. She sucked her bottom lip into her mouth and bit down.

“Princess, shouldn’t we be eating that dinner now?” he said with a growl. He’s not thinking about food.

“I don’t want dinner anymore,” she replied, flattening her hands on the oak counter. She pushed back slightly against Penn and rubbed her bum against his crotch. His dick was hard against her arse, and she ground slowly. He slid his hands to rest on hers. His body closed her into the worktop. They were aligned as she leant her head against his chest and closed her eyes.

“No?” he asked with a hint of a tease. “Are you sure, Bruny? I’ve been hungry all day. Don’t you think we should eat this dinner you’ve prepared before it gets cold?”

It’s one of his tests. He wants me to demand he fucks me. They loved arguing with each other and urging each other to give pleasure, especially when they’d spent all day craving it. But Bronwyn was as stubborn as he was and had no intention of giving in to him, even though she wanted to. The conflict was as much foreplay as his perceptive touches.

“Okay, if you’re sure,” she replied lightly before reaching for the plates. “I’d hate for things to go cold.”

She caught his furrowed brow and pouting mouth before he engaged his breezy tone and fake smile. It was the one he used with his team when he knew shouting wouldn’t work. From their first meeting, she knew they were well-matched. They both knew how to get their way which was why he was her ultimate challenge and the only man she wanted to be spending her evenings with. Getting your way was much more fun when you had to battle for it. Sometimes it was a fight of wills, and other days they both tried to seduce each other into submission.

He grabbed the utensils as she quickly dished up the lasagne that could have easily stayed warm while they enjoyed more pleasurable things, but this was their game.

“Tell me about your day,” she said, easing next to him at the small round wooden table. Her hand brushed his as she wrapped it around the pepper dispenser. The spark of need hit her in the belly, and she smiled. For the years before she met him, emptiness had been the only emotion inside her.

Over the last months, she had come alive. Others had noticed the change, and friends had commented on her everlasting smiles and the joy she took in moments that before would have floored her. Some of them had met him for a night out at the pub. He made them laugh as he told stories from his past on the streets of Coventry, but it was the way he cared for her that they admired. The glances when he was checking in on her, his support because she was nervous at being out in new places, and the whispers in her ear to remind her that she was gorgeous. It wasn’t that she didn’t know it, but the memories of years of rejection bought the odd wave of low confidence. Those low self-esteem moments had reduced since him. His instincts when managing her anxiety scared her at times, especially as their conversations played on her mind.

He topped up her glass with the bottle of the prosecco she’d left on the table. “Well, this vixen has been teasing me all day with her sexy photos and saucy messages.”

Bronwyn licked her lips. “Vixen, eh?”

“The sexiest vixen,” he smiled. “At one point during my meeting, I checked my messages and saw one that mentioned her laying on the kitchen table as I licked her slowly, followed by a photo of her skirt tight against her upper thighs. I was vaguely aware of my colleague presenting something important, but I have no idea what. All I wanted was to slide the vixen’s skirt up higher and feel how wet she was for me.”

“You fucker,” Bronwyn said before taking a deep breath. How did he make something arousing sound like a conversation about the most mundane?

“Excuse me?” he asked with a smirk.

She shoved some lasagne and green leaves into her mouth. Gooey cheese coated her tongue as she shook her head at him. She would get her own back as soon as he found what she had on under her outfit. As he looked down, she popped open another button on her blouse, playing him at his own game.

As soon as he looked up, he smiled. He didn’t miss a trick. “Have I seen that bra before?”

She shrugged, pretending to finish her mouthful. Penn’s hand brushed her knee. She usually hated wearing tights or anything like that, and he knew this. His hand paused at the nylon covering her legs as he locked eyes with hers. His lips parted as he stared at her. Bronwyn opened her legs, inviting more of his touch.

“You’re wearing tights?” he whispered, his words saturated with heat.

Air escaped between her lips. “Not exactly.”

His hand paused. His breathing was slower now, and his Adam’s apple bobbed at his throat. “Not exactly?” he repeated, his voice gravelly. His hand climbed higher. She opened her legs wider once more as his fingertips made circles about her knee.

Her teeth tugged at her plump lower lip.

The room was silent except for a song by The Weeknd playing on the speaker. The low beat matched her climbing heartbeat. It pulsated through her veins as Penn gripped her thigh tightly.

“No, not exactly. Similar though,” Bronwyn said, forming her words slowly as desire took hold. He was about to find out what she’d hidden under her work outfit.

His hand paused at the lace top of her hold-ups. He fingered the delicate material and leaned in close, dusting her lips with his. “Princess,” he growled, his lips still against hers. “I want you in bed right now. And you can leave the shoes on.” He kissed her again, but this time his lips were hard against hers. He grabbed her hand.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she teased the lasagne and difficult conversations forgotten as they jumped up and headed towards the door.

When they reached her bedroom, she pushed him against the door and kissed him hard. Bronwyn ran her hands through his hair, pulling at the dark strands and scratching his scalp as she sought to get more from him. He parted his lips, and she slipped her tongue into his mouth. Goose pimples covered her arms as his hand went to her bum and began to kneed it as she took the kiss deeper. His beard scratched at her skin. She couldn’t keep her hands still. The headiness of the kiss blinded her, and suddenly she realised she was clawing at the buttons of his shirt.

“Bruny, I have promises to keep with you tonight. Get on the bed” He pressed his lips together. The provocative act ramped her desire for him up further.

He kneeled over her as she lay on the bed. With his hands on either side of her head, he kissed her plump lips. She moaned into his mouth and fisted his shirt in her hands, but he pulled away and slowly undid the buttons of her blouse. At the turquoise lace of her bra, he growled. “I don’t remember seeing this in your photos. I guess you did have time to change today,” he said with a wink.

Bronwyn smiled coyly. “Maybe.”

“And do the knickers match?”

Heat saturated her body as she whispered, “What knickers?”

“Fuck,” he grunted. He ripped off Bronwyn’s skirt, sliding it down her legs and tossing it across the room. She lay before him in her hold-ups, bra and heels. He dived to her mouth, pressing his lips hard against hers as she wrapped her legs around him. He gripped her thigh where skin met lace. For a man who spent his spare time pumping iron, he was delicate when it came to her underwear. Bruny moaned into his mouth as his kisses became more fervent. The sharp point of her heels pressed against the back of his thighs. She lifted her hips to rub her pussy against his groin, but it wasn’t close enough.

Penn pulled back. “Time to ride my mouth, Bruny.”.

“But I want you inside me,” she murmured.

“There’s plenty of opportunity for that later,” he smiled. “Bra off.”

Usually, she’d hate someone telling her what to do, but Penn’s demands made her ache. She stripped off her bra as they swapped positions. He lay on her pillow, slowly undoing his shirt as he watched her. She ran her teeth across her lip. “Can I give your cock a quick lick first?”

“Fucking yes.”

She didn’t wait for any other words. Her heart thudded in her chest as Bronwyn undid his button and pulled down his zipper before yanking down his trousers and boxers. His cock sprung free, causing her fingers to tremble. Pre-cum beaded the tip of his cock, and she ran her finger across it with a wide-eyed stare.

“You said lick,” he grunted.

“But I like looking at it,” she replied with a smile as she winked and put the tip of her finger between her teeth to recreate one of his favourite cheeky gifs. He rolled his eyes with a smile.

She bent her head and gave his cock a lick. Her tongue stroked the length of his erection. She wrapped her mouth around it and sucked the head. His hands held her head. “You said lick. Now get over my face,” he snarled.

“Fucker,” she replied.

As she crawled up his body, he mumbled, “No one else gets to call me that. It’s only you.”

Her knees rested on either side of his face as she slowed eased herself down. Bronwyn gasped as the tip of his tongue teased her clit. The stubble on the edge of his cheeks scratched her inner thighs. Although she felt safe with him, she still got anxious when doing his act. She had to open herself up to being vulnerable and trust he wouldn’t push her off if she went too far. Penn’s intuition must have recognised her nervousness, or he was already in the mood as he quickly slapped her bum before grabbing it tightly and holding her against his mouth. He squeezed her arse, manipulating it and encouraging her to move. She ground herself against him as he licked and sucked her clit.

“Don’t stop,” she cried out, forgetting her anxiety.

The scent of her wetness combined with the musty smell of his aftershave. Even if this was the last thing they did together before the talk and end of the relationship, she knew the scent would never leave her subconscious.

She sped up, riding his face as he pushed his tongue inside her. Sweat dripped down her chest as she pressed her hands flat against the wall. One of his hands disappeared from her arse, and she knew he’d be stroking his cock in time with the thrusts of his tongue. Her head dropped down as she let go of control and gave way to the need that yanked at her belly. Desire was climbing quickly. She wanted that cock in her mouth, but it was impossible from this direction. Nevertheless, the thought of it turned her on and made her speed up and press down harder.

She grabbed tufts of his hair as she rode his face faster. Her moans rose in volume, and she looked down to see his eyes on her. He’d told her before he loved watching her breasts when she was above him like this. She grabbed one of them, leaned back and attempted to catch his eye. He winked back. A sheen of sweat covered her body. One hand pressed flat against the cold wall, and with the other, she grabbed his hair. Bronwyn couldn’t sit still. Every shift of her body was to get more of his tongue on her and in her.

Her legs shook, and a cry rose in her throat. Already she was on the brink of coming. Her anxiety climbed again, but Penn’s understanding of her kicked in, and he wrapped his hands around the top of her thighs. He set a fast rhythm, pulling her hard against him. She bit down on her lip as his tongue pushed inside her again. A sharp cry left her mouth, but he held her fast. Bronwyn’s moans filled the room, and she gasped for breath.

She closed her eyes and pressed down again. His tongue reached deeper, and she ground against him.

“I’m so close,” she cried out.

She lost herself to the moment and the temptation to overthink her body. His fingertips dug into her thighs, and she let go of all her stress. Bronwyn immersed herself in his desire. Heat filled her limbs, and her body momentarily froze before shaking. Her climax owned her entirely, and she fisted her hair as she rode it out.

With a quivering body, she slid down him and lay flat on her back, panting as he stood and removed the rest of his clothes. Penn’s cock was hard and throbbing.

His grinning mouth shone with her wetness as he climbed back on the bed and lay next to her. He leant on his side, his cock hard against her leg.

“I think you enjoyed that, Bruny?”

He laughed at her side-eye, still too breathless to make sense. She kissed him hard. He tasted of her arousal. Please don’t let it be our last weekend together.

She reached for his cock, but he held her hand in his. “What’s going on, Bruny. You’ve been distracted since I arrived. It’s more than hornyness. What’s going on in your head?” He tucked a strand of hair, now frizzy from their activities, behind her ear. The intimacy of the act made her belly flutter. He wasn’t a carefree fuck anymore; she’d invested her heart against her better judgement.

“I can’t tell you right now,” she murmured. Penn’s big brown eyes fixed hers. Although she wanted to hide her vulnerability, she couldn’t look away.

“How come?” He stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers.

“Because everything I’ve read has told me not to talk about the future during fucking because men will say anything, especially if they’re hard and want sex.”

“That makes sense. But when have you known me to say anything but what I think? I only-”

“I know, “Say what I think and do what I want”. You don’t speak unless you have something to say, and no one can tell you what to say, however hard they try,” she replied cheekily, cutting him off.

He smirked. “Yeah, I’ve said that before, then?”

She smiled as he grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. “Once or twice or a thousand times. It’s one of your many Penn-isms.”


Bronwyn sighed loudly and rolled her eyes, unable to look directly into his. “Fine. I was wondering what is this? Are we a couple, exclusive or whatever? Are we seeing other people?”

“I’m not, are you?”

“No,” she replied, her gaze flitting around the room.

“Look at me, Bruny.” Bronwyn looked back at him. “I am dating you and only you. This thing between us is for the foreseeable future, and that’s how I like it. So if you want to label it, then yeah, we’re boyfriend and girlfriend. But only if you’re happy with that.”

Her grin was wide enough to hurt her cheeks. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

He planted a kiss on her lips. It was soft and gentle and made her toes curl. “And if you think you’re taking anyone but me to your sister’s wedding, then you’re very wrong. I saw the plus one on the invitation. I’ve been waiting weeks for you to ask me. I’ve got my best suit and shirt ready to go and my shoes polished.”

A squeal left her mouth, surprising both of them.

“That was new,” Penn said with a chuckle.

Bronwyn covered her burning face with her hand.

“Oh, Bruny, don’t hide that beautiful face from me.” He took her hand off her face and kissed her softly. His lips brushed hers briefly before parting her lips with his tongue. She held his bristling jaw in her hand, nibbling at his lip before moving her tongue to massage his. She wanted him again, only this time she needed the cock she’d been craving all day. “Now to make you really squeal, but this time I want to watch you come. Kneel up and face the mirror,” he requested against her lips, giving her one last quick peck.

Bronwyn side-eyed him again as she got into position. He kneeled behind her. He moved her hair to one side and kissed her neck as he had in the kitchen, except this time, he scraped his teeth against her skin. His cock juddered against her, and she pushed her bottom into him. His reflected gaze caught hers.

“I’ve wanted to fuck you like this for a long time. Bend over, Princess,” he grunted. She looked over her shoulder and watched as he covered his cock with lube. He stroked himself slowly as he stared at her bum. Lust burnt deeply throughout her body. “I said bend over,” he growled.

She complied, grabbing the sheets in preparation. Penn grabbed her hips before sliding into her pussy. Temporarily, he rested there. Her heart swelled. Penn wasn’t just her casual fuck who she spent hours trying to work out what the different emotions meant and how he felt about her. He was her boyfriend now, and he was coming to the wedding. A naughty idea of fucking in the bathroom at the wedding reception made her giggle. She pushed against him trying to get him to move inside her as she thought about it.

“Not yet. Kneel up,” Penn growled.

He thrust deeper into her as she reached around and hugged his neck. He murmured how much he wanted her and everything he loved about her while massaging her breast, squeezing her nipple and twisting it gently.

At this angle, she could reach his balls. She held one gently in her hand, massaging it slowly as his cock moved inside her. It wasn’t a hard fuck but sensual and a testament to their chat.

“I love that I’m fucking my girlfriend. My curvy, beautiful, sexy girlfriend,” he growled before speeding up his hips.

He groaned as she kept stroking and playing with his balls in turn. “Fuck, Princess. You know how much I love it when you do that.”

Her stomach clenched at the burn of arousal. She stretched her back as he continued to push against her. “Grab your tits and look at the mirror,” he demanded. She opened her eyes and squeezed her breasts as he slid one hand down to her pussy while the other clutched her hip. He ran circles around her clit with his fingers, spreading the wetness around. The touches sent her arousal soaring.

He locked eyes with her through the mirror as he licked and sucked at her neck. His beard was softer around his lips, and his touch pleasurable. The darkness of his pupils transfixed her. She bit her lips as she watched him, pulling her bottom lip with her teeth. The corners of his mouth raised, but his eyes were still pinning her with their intensity. His fingers rubbed her quicker. Her eyes fluttered closed as she moaned his name.

“Open your eyes. I want to see you come,” Penn growled. She complied, but it was different to before. He moved quicker inside her. The intimacy of the position wasn’t lost on her. Bronwyn focused on the heat of his body burning inside hers. “My dirty Princess.”

She stroked her hard nipples with her thumbs while squeezing her breasts, her eyes never leaving his. “I’m close,” he moaned as he continued to thrust quickly inside her. He sucked at her ear lobe as he growled in her ear.

She was on the brink; her earlier orgasm and his fingers on her clit filled her with desperate need. Her breath came in short sharp gasps as she whimpered for more. He squeezed her hip, pulling her against him, scratching her with his nails. She cried out as she came. Her eyes never left his. His smirk was devilish. The alignment of their bodies was intimate, but his power still radiated through her.

Penn held her close, refusing to let her go as her climax tremored through her.

“Your turn now, sexy,” she said to his reflection. She lightly squeezed his balls as she spoke. “You’re such a sexy bastard, and your cock is the best I’ve ever had inside me. No one fucks me like you do.”

“Don’t stop,” he begged as he continued to thrust.

“My pussy can’t get enough of you. Once we’ve eaten, I’m going to give you a blowjob on the stairs. I’m going to take your cock in my mouth and-”.

“I’m coming,” he shouted. It was her turn to smile smugly. She loved watching her powerful man who spent his life in control let go, especially when she knew she’d got him there. “Fucking sexy minx,” he gasped.

They collapsed hot and sweaty on the bent, their bodies intertwined. “I can’t wait to give you a blowjob at the wedding,” Bronwyn whispered as Penn kissed her forehead and held her tight.


Liked Dinner is Ready? There are more short stories on my website including  The Boss, an enemies to lovers workplace story.

Office romance. Boss sex on desk.

The Boss Returns – Office Romance


Boss sex on desk. Office romance.


Don’t forget to read part 1 of this enemies to lovers work romance first, you can find it here: The Boss

Head down and keep to yourself.

It had become my mantra since word had gone around that the company owner, Mr Self-Assured, was in the building. If asked, I’d have said that I hadn’t thought of him since the day he went down on me in the boardroom, but he’d featured in every fantasy. I clenched my thighs tightly together as I attempted to force all sexual thoughts away. Still, the memories of his deep northern timbre demanding I pleasure myself for him was impossible to ignore. I couldn’t face him again. Even when I watched two people passionately kissing on television, I imagined it was his lips on mine and his hands sliding up my thighs beneath my skirt. I still wanted to punch him too.

Three times in the last fortnight, I’d been caught daydreaming in meetings and had to lie my way out of the situation. Each time, I’d been staring at the space next to the door where he’d slid two fingers inside me and demanded I come for him. When I closed my eyes, that growl replayed on a loop inside my head. For days I had to wear blouses that covered the mark he’d left on my neck, but the mark he’d left on my soul hadn’t faded as easily. Instead, the ecstasy from the orgasm was imprinted on my skin, much to my annoyance. I’d experienced nothing like it, and instead of him making good on his promise to give me another one as he bent me over his balcony, I hadn’t seen him since due to a sudden trip that kept him away from the office.

I’d become a sad stereotype or a porn website category depending on your preferences. A boss, his salesgirl and a meaningless fuck. If he’d taken anyone else from the office to such heights, then they’d kept quiet about it. Maybe that was why he had groupies in accounts. Had each woman in that team fucked him in turn before he’d gone on a “business trip”?

My inner voice annoyed me. I was bitter because of his rejection. I’d spent months fantasising about fucking him while loathing everything about him. And now, after no calls or messages, he was back in the office.

“Is he here for the away day?” I caught the whisperings from the desks behind me.

It was the company team building day. A coach would transport everyone to an outward bound centre where we’d paddleboard and tackle high ropes before getting knee walking drunk and escorted home. Inevitably half the staff would hook up before pretending they hadn’t. It led to months of speculation about who did who where. Around me, teams hollered and cheered in giddy delight.  But it was a day I dreaded. It was another day of showing no weakness and taking on every challenge so that the guys beneath me didn’t give me shit for the rest of the year. I’d be the one remaining largely sober so that I didn’t do anything I’d regret, like in my old place where I was known as the woman who photocopied her tits at the Christmas party. How was I to know I’d left a copy in a client’s folder? We got a massive sale as a result, but I was forever known as Tits McGee.

“He’s here,” Susie from accounting whispered loud enough for her team and me to hear. I gritted my teeth. Bossman should still be away. I’d checked with his assistant, and she’d insisted he had a massive situation to deal with in China. It’s what had taken him away urgently a fortnight ago and had kept him there since.

But you don’t care. I’d psyched myself to ignore him as soon as I knew he was in the building. Yet, I was still gently rocking my pelvis under my desk at the memory of having his tongue on my clit. Fucker.

“Hi, guys. How are we all doing?” His northern drawl made me lick my lips. How did he sound so fucking confident all the time when I was a ball of anger and sexual frustration?

“Neil, how’s the family?” When did he turn into Mr Jovial? He usually walked around the place with a scowl that would set your knickers on fire if he looked at them. But, instead, his chuckle set my teeth on edge. “No work talk today. It’s the away day remember? No work, just fun.”

The slow way he said fun made my skin tingle. How fucking dare he be all laughter, buddying up to the staff while I was unsuccessfully using every toy in my arsenal when alone at night? His touch had ruined me.

“I’m sure you’ll drink us all under the table,” he said to someone else in the office. It was as if each footstep made my pussy quake in anticipation. I yanked my headphones from my drawer and shoved them over my head and onto my ears, flipping the switch quickly, so it paired with my phone. Nineties pop played loudly in my ears, drowning out the charming ways he was cajoling each person in the office. I didn’t need to witness it to imagine the women drooling as he slid his shirt sleeves up and revealed his muscular forearms that could pin a woman against him. The men would be grouped around him, too, as he told amusing anecdotes with the ease of someone who could make people do what he wanted with a wink of an eye or a smile.

Maybe he wouldn’t be wearing his typical button-down shirt. It was the away day. Would he be wearing a t-shirt that clung to his broad body and jeans that hinted at a butt that I’d sell my soul to squeeze? I shook my head gently to force the images away. He didn’t get to have my fantasies anymore, not since he’d left me high and dry. You have to stay strong.

I attempted to ignore the irony of the wetness pooling in my knickers at the idea of him leaving me high and dry. I hadn’t been dry since he’d held my arms above my head and slipped his hand beneath my dress. Who was I kidding? I hadn’t been anything but soaking wet since the first day I’d spoken to him. That coarse voice, which carried enough arrogance to make my eyes roll, had infiltrated every fibre of my being and claimed it for his own. But I refused to be his plaything. He couldn’t have me again.

His musky scent crept into my body. My stomach tightened at the smell. It had to be muscle memory from hearing his voice. Breath on my neck made goose pimples prickle my arms. Fingers brushed my skin as my headphones were pushed off my head.

“Didn’t you hear me, gorgeous,” he whispered in my ear. My wetness increased, reminding me that if I weren’t careful, I would soak through the stretchy black gym leggings I’d worn for the team building. He couldn’t make me that wet, surely? “I said no work today.”

I pulled away from him as he spun my seat so I was facing him. I grabbed at my headphones as if having something to grip would protect me from the arousal that flamed when he was close. “Maybe I’m fed up of listening to the bullshit that comes out of your mouth, boss,” I replied through gritted teeth. Then, with a flick of my eyes, I looked him up and down. Jeans hung low on his waist so that if he stretched, I knew his t-shirt would climb and reveal the v of his hips. Would there be a tuft of hair there? Don’t imagine it. But I was already considering what activities would make him stretch high enough to reveal his muscles.

He shrugged and tilted his head. “That’s fair. I do speak a lot of bullshit.”

His cocky attitude snapped me out of my thoughts. I raised my eyebrows and gripped my headphones tighter. “Shouldn’t you be getting to your fan base or working the room? You do it so well, and you know you love it when people fall at your feet.” I say with a glare.

“I remember enjoying being on my knees at your feet,” he replied. He teased his upper lip with the tip of his tongue before smiling in a way that made me hate him and crave him.

Do not blush or give him the satisfaction of knowing he affects you. “Not so much that you kept your date promise, though.”

“I need to explain that-“

“Sir, will you be joining us on the coach to the outward bound centre?” one of the accounting ladies asked as she wiggled her hips and straightened her denim skirt. Who wore a tiny denim skirt on high ropes? But I couldn’t blame her. I wanted to get his attention, too, especially now he was in front of me and reminding me what it was like to have his mouth on my pussy. He barely turned away from me. “No, I’ll be driving. I’m afraid I have a bit of business I need to take care of with one of my sales team.”

He raised his eyebrow as he glanced at my breasts. That challenge made me cross my arms and legs in defiance. I swore his cock twitched as I huffed. “I believe you said no work today, Sir.” Disdain filled my last word.

“And you said you were fed up with the bullshit that came out of my mouth,” he hit back.

I closed my eyes and seethed. I hated that I still wanted him while all the while knowing he’d used me and ditched me.

“Right, everyone,” he shouted through the office with a rallying cry. “We’ve got some challenges to win and some drinks to enjoy. I shall see you all there just as soon as I go through some sales figures. The first person on the coach wins the first money bundle.”

He knew how to motivate the staff. Teams jumped up grabbed their belongings while shouting to each other. “You’re going down, nerds,” was deflected with “Just like your dad did last night, purchasing,” amongst other equally banal trash talk.

Within minutes the entire office was empty except for him and me.

“Now, about those sales figures,” he said, grabbing a chair and wheeling it over to my desk. “We need to deal with an emergency sales situation due to issues with our suppliers. We need to work out how to keep our clients in Dubai sweet while also letting them down gently. You have that relationship with them.”

“Are you serious? We’re actually talking work?”

His thigh briefly touched mine before he moved back a little giving me space. Was he sensing my hesitation?

“You know I hate to repeat myself, but this once I will; we are talking work. I like being alone with you, and if I had my way, I’d ease you over this desk, grab your hips and bury my cock inside you, but I needed to sort out what’s happening with Dubai,” he said matter of factly. The picture he’d briefly painted flashed in front of me. I licked my lips. How could he say such things so easily before moving back to work? It was as if he was talking about what cereal to have rather than having me pinned to his desk, dripping with sweat as he fucked me in the middle of the office. He continued to explain himself. “I’ve been in China for the past fortnight sorting out suppliers after two of our factories were petrol bombed. I’ve been working twenty-hour days, and I’m exhausted, but I wanted to get this problem solved so I could enjoy the day and maybe finally get back to what I was doing before I left.”

I ignored the subtext. If he was talking about doing me, he was going to be disappointed. I wasn’t that easy for him to “get back to”.

For ten minutes, we discussed the possibilities of how to smooth over the issues with our Dubai clients while ignoring the blistering sexual tension between us. When he moved his glasses up to his head in frustration, I smoothed a wave of hair behind my ear, causing him to rub his fingers subconsciously. Occasionally his cock would twitch when I leant forward in my strappy top, or my legs would tremble when we stared at my screen, and his breath heated my neck. Finally, when our thighs came into contact again, I swallowed the gasp of need but the way I gulped still caught his attention, and he let out the briefest of grunts before covering it with a clearing of his throat.

“And you’re happy to have fifty per cent next week and the rest by the end of the month?” I repeated to the client. Bossman grinned next to me as waves of stress rolled off his shoulders. It was another reminder that this powerful man was under a lot more pressure than I’d realised. “Excellent news. I shall put that in writing in an email to you now.”

I added a little laugh down the phone as my favourite purchasing officer made a joke that wasn’t funny, but it didn’t hurt to make them think they were hilarious, especially as they were doing me more of a favour than they realised. Bossman did a soundless fake laugh as he took the piss out of me.

I rolled my eyes and mouthed “fuck you” back at him.

“Yes, please,” he growled quietly, effortlessly switching from relieved to horny.

“Thank you, that’s great,” I spoke down the phone, ignoring the heat in my belly that was desperate for my attention. “Have a great day, and let me know if there’s anything I can do for you.” Even though I was speaking to my client, my gaze was locked with Bossman’s as I said it. “Bye.”

I put the phone down as Bossman whispered, “I’m pretty sure I owe you one, but I’m happy to take you up on the offer.” He rubbed his eyes and yawned as he teased. Had he slept at all over the last two weeks?

I leaned in closer, whispering in his ear so that he had a view of my chest and swollen nipples. “How about you sleep in your office for an hour while I sort out this email to the client, and then we can head to the outward bound place?” He wasn’t the only tease in the room.

He sat back in his chair and stared at me. “You’re not joking, are you? You’d do that for me when you have every right to ignore me after the last fortnight? I have an explanation for not being in contact, by the way.”

It was my turn to shrug. “You don’t have to explain right now.”

“You must know by now I’ll explain whether you want me to or not? I wanted to get in touch. I missed you and thought about you way more than I should have done, but I didn’t know how to get hold of you without the sort of consequences that could have given me a lawsuit. I didn’t know if you regretted what had happened. I crossed a line in that boardroom, and I wouldn’t have blamed you for reporting me. There was no way I could email you here or try and get your number from HR without crossing more lines. I don’t want you to sleep with me because you’re worried about your job.” His soft brown eyes implored me for understanding. I saw more sides to him than I expected

I wanted to trust him. His explanation made sense. “Not just doing the right thing but being seen to do the right thing?” I asked.

“Yes, exactly that. But I did think about you every day, every second of every day, when I wasn’t trying to deal with the petrol bomb thing,” he winced.

There was more to the story, but this wasn’t the time. “Go and sleep so I can finish sorting this out,” I replied, pointing to his office.

He gave me a half-smile. “Okay, but I did think about you-”

“Go,” I shouted.

“Fuck, woman. I thought I was the Boss, but you can do that again,” he said with a wink before striding to his office.


An hour later, I found him snoring as he slept across the sofa in his office. I stared at him against my better judgement before slipping the glasses off the top of his head and putting them safely on his desk. I stepped away, desperate to avoid the temptation to touch him. His chest rose and fell. Seeing his face soft and his mouth filth and insult free was unexpected. It was a new side to him, and all my questions about what was going on rose as I stared. Was this just sex between us, or had we returned to boss and subordinate? The activities at the outward bound centre would be continuing for another couple of hours, and we could join in if we left now. Still, I didn’t want to disturb him. One more glance at his worn face reminded me he was dealing with stuff I couldn’t understand, and sleep would do more for him than any team building.

“You can join me on the sofa if you want,” he mumbled with a soft yawn that made my heart flutter more than I’d admit.

“I didn’t want to disturb you,” I replied from the corner of the room.

He lifted his body to sit with his back against the sofa, his feet firmly on the floor. “You can’t disturb me, gorgeous, “ he replied with a twinkle in his eye and a smug grin across his face. I fought the temptation to test his words but was distracted when he stretched his arms up in the air and gave a massive yawn. I was proved right about his t-shirt. With his arms high in the air, he revealed the ripples of his belly muscles. A smattering of hair that led beneath his jeans cried out for my touch, but what if I started something I couldn’t finish?

“We’ve got the whole office to ourselves and nowhere to be.” Then, with his elbow resting on the arm of the sofa, he tilted his head and lent on his knuckles. Fuck, those knuckles had reached into my fantasies for the past fortnight. No guy had rubbed my crotch like that before. The sensations had opened a need to be fucked hard. Could I ask him to rub them against me again without sounding desperate?

“I think we’ve got somewhere to be. Remember? They’re waiting for us at the outward bound place?” I crossed my arms over my chest again, drawing his eyes. Had I done that on purpose? Then, with heavy-lidded eyes, he slowly took my body in. The desire clouding his gaze as it climbed my body left me wanting. It was as if I was naked for him.

“We’ve got time.” His voice was low and thrummed through my body.

“What if I don’t want to do anything?” I replied sassily. “What if last time was a blip and I’m dating someone now or wanting something you can’t give me?”

He held his hands out flat, palms upwards, in surrender. “Then we get into my car and head to the forest where we can meet everyone else. No pressure and no expectation. Whatever you want. I want you again. I’m pretty sure I was dreaming about you and me on a beach. I was sliding my hands under your dress as you demanded I fuck you with everything I had. But I’m good with whatever you want.”

I wanted that too. Turmoil unravelled in my stomach. As much as I craved him, I was scared of being vulnerable again. He’d left before without a goodbye, and now was he back because he wanted something? What would stop him from repeating what had happened before? I dropped my gaze, unable to look at him as I opened up to him. “I don’t know if I can trust you again after last time. It was good, but a part of me felt used when what I needed was control. I know what you’ve said, but yeah, I don’t know.”

“Then use me,” he growled. I suddenly looked into his eyes. Was he serious? “Use me however you want.”

I wetted my lips. My legs refused to move even as he hooked his finger and beckoned me closer. Heat climbed through my limbs. He opened his legs wider. “It won’t end like last time. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll have our date. I still have a promise to keep about a balcony if you want it. But first, use me.”

The nights of yearning for his touch overwhelmed reason, and I walked closer, kicking off my trainers. Standing between his thighs, I leant in, grabbing his face between my hands. My fingers were delicate against the stubble on his cheeks. But there was nothing gentle about the way his mouth opened to me. I pulled his bottom lip between my teeth before meeting his tongue with mine. Heat fused with need, and his hands fisted in my hair, pulling the elastic of my ponytail free. His tongue massaged mine as he pulled me into him. I reached down and rubbed his hardening cock through his jeans. It juddered against my hand as he tried to pull my top up and over my head. We were a mess of limbs and lips. Arousal scorched us as we panted against each other, and his musk burned the back of my throat, sealing him to me.

I couldn’t get close enough. I wanted more, but I also wanted control. How could I take from him all I wanted?

“Wait,” I said, pulling back. His eyes were darker now as I arched my back and owned the curves I’d revealed in my bra and leggings. His hands reached out, but I swatted them away as I turned to face the wall before sliding my leggings over my bum and slowly down my thighs and off. Then, with a glance over my shoulder, I revelled in the enamoured way he watched me.

He rubbed his cock through his jeans as I wiggled my bum for him. “You don’t get to touch your dick yet. Only when I say.” His whole body shivered as he rested his hands on his thighs. I had this powerful man to do my bidding, and I intended to make the most of it.

“You gonna fight me for it, sweetness?”

I smiled before flicking the clasp on my bra and letting the straps slip down and off. Then, still facing the wall, I continued to stare over my shoulder at him. He waited with bated breath. During our moment in the boardroom, he hadn’t seen me naked like I was about to be for him.

“Show me,” he requested as I continued to wait. I wanted him to beg. I enjoyed hearing the man who controlled a massive company and influenced powerful leaders into doing what he wanted, submitting to me as he pleaded for my body.

“What’s the magic word?” I asked before biting my lip in a way he couldn’t resist. His groan was my reward.

“Please, show me. I need you.” Desperation clouded his voice, and I bent over and slipped my knickers off with a smile. I sat on his lap, my breasts in my hands and ground myself against him. He was rock hard beneath me. His kisses covered my neck, and one hand trailed down my side before reaching my swollen clit. His groans vibrated his body against me as his finger quickly coated in my wetness, ran circles around my clit. Sensations I’d Ionged for made me writhe against him as my arousal climbed higher. I buckled against his hard body as I moaned in his ear. “Fucking hell, I want you so much.”

But before I could get my release, I turned and straddled him. “Play with me,” I growled into his ear. The depth of need in my voice surprising me.

His finger slipped quickly inside, and I rode his hand as his thumb pleasured my clit. My nipples rubbed against his t-shirt, adding to the orgasmic flush rising through me. One of his hands was at my pussy while the other pressed the back of my head to his. We made out like horny co-workers at the Christmas party. Anyone could find us if they came to the office, but instead of holding back, I thrust against his hand. “Use me, gorgeous,” he begged between kisses.

I cried out as he kissed and sucked at my neck. Our breaths, a mixture of panting and heat, filled my core. My climax, a result of too many nights spent wanting, climbed quickly, but before I let it take me, I made one more demand. “Fuck me, Boss.”


“Fuck me in your office,” I demanded as I reached for the bottom of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head. His body was glorious. It was hard in all the right places with dark hair across his chest. I barely had the chance to sprinkle kisses on his muscles before unsnapping his belt and pulling down his zipper. His cock sprung free, and I wrapped my hand around it. I ran my palm up and down his thick length as it swelled against me.

“Baby, you can’t do that for too long. I want to be inside you.” His deep voice penetrated my body.

“Baby?” I whispered.

“Cheesy, but I went with it. Was it too-”

“It will do,” I said with a grin before stepping away from him. I found the condom I’d hid underneath the plant pot earlier in the week when hoping for this moment. I cut him off before he could make a smart-arsed quip. “Now shut up and fuck me.”

“Yes, boss,” he cheeked with a salute. “So much sass.”

A smile conquered my mouth as I sat on the edge of his desk and beckoned him forward with a crooked finger. He pushed his jeans down and kicked them off with his trainers before rushing toward me so quickly he nearly barrelled me over. He bent down and licked my nipple as he rubbed a finger over the other one. I pushed my pelvis forward as my body quivered against his touch. I had so much I wanted to do with him, but there was one fantasy I was yet to live out.

“Wait,” I shouted, stopping him in his tracks. “I want to do what you said earlier.”

His furrowed brow made me smile, and as I shoved him off, I turned and bent over his desk.

“Fucking hell,” he growled as he gave my ass a quick slap. He stroked himself as he watched me. His hungry gaze was taking me all. He tore the condom wrapper with his teeth before sliding the condom over his cock and down.

The anticipation held me fixed in awe of what was about to happen. I gripped the edge of the desk tightly as I prepared myself for him. Heat owned my body. Had I built it up too much?

As if he heard my thoughts, he stepped forward and grabbed my hip while rubbing his erection against me and positioning himself. “Are you ready for me?” He growled, his deep timbre making me whimper nearly as much as the hope for mind-blowing pleasure. He slid his cock inside me and filled me quickly. His hands pinched at my hips as he waited. My body shook, but I refused to beg for him. Our moment was as much a battle of wills as need.

As if he accepted I would never plead with him, he slowly eased out before tightening his grip on my hip and thrusting back inside me. Again he pulled out before pushing back with more power than before. My eyes rolled around in my head, and I screamed his name as he fucked me harder than I’d had in years.

All the nights spent imagining it was his fingers inside me had been nothing compared to this. His sweaty naked skin hit mine with force as he got deeper each time. The wood of the desk was cold and hard against my body. I rose on my toes as I willed him to go deeper.

“I could do this all fucking day. I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured between groans.

The force of pressure built higher as I reached for my clit to send my pleasure soaring, but he slapped my hand away. His body bent over mine as he rubbed for my clit, already swollen from the coarseness of his fingers.

He continued to push himself deeper inside me, making me cry out as he licked and sucked at my skin. My hands were flat against the desk as I matched his rhythm with my own. I pushed back to meet him harder, and his skin slapped against mine as the smell of sex filled the air.

I was dizzy from all the sound of blood rushing in my ears. His hand moved from my hip to my front, and he pulled me up and against his torso as he continued to rub my clit. He growled something about my tits as his hand squeezed my breast. My hunger for orgasm overwhelmed me.

“I need more,” I cried out breathlessly.

His teeth scraped my ear before his lips caressed my neck. Finally, when I wasn’t sure I could take anymore, he thrust into me so hard that light exploded behind my eyes, and I screamed his name as my climax erupted. My body shuddered with him still deep inside me, forcing his orgasm. We shook violently against each other. I turned my head and managed to kiss him as he came inside me. His tongue was in my mouth as I clung to him.

Sweat rolled down my body as he gripped me tightly. My legs were giving way, but he wasn’t letting me go. We collapsed together on top of the desk as our orgasm ebbed. His hair bristled my back as he held me to his broad body, but it was the emotional closeness that surprised me.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispered in my ear.

“My pleasure, Boss,” I managed between gasps of air. I knew as I left the office that my skin would carry his scent. I gave a slight smile at the thought.

As my heartbeat returned to something vaguely normal, I asked the question that scared me. “So what now? Do we head to the outward bound place?”

He chuckled in what sounded like surprise. “I thought you might demand I pleasure you again. Maybe in my car with my finger this time.” I shivered in surprise. I wanted his fingers inside me already. “In about an hour, the team will all be drunk and they won’t care that we’re not there. I’ve put a thousand quid behind the bar. I’m going to take you on the date I promised and then the balcony if you’ve still got the energy.”

I had more than enough energy. “But what if something comes up. You’re a busy guy.”

“If I can work out how, then I’m turning my phone off,” he said before pulling me up and turning me around. I wrapped my legs around him as he spoke between kisses. The skin of his thighs was hot between my legs.

“What do you mean if you can work out how? You own several massively successful companies,” I asked as I ran my nails up and down his back.

He shrugged. “I’ve not turned a phone off in three years.”

I licked his upper lip before kissing him softly. I had no idea what was happening between us, but I couldn’t get enough of him and didn’t want it to stop.

Office sex


The Boss – Enemies to lovers short story

ghosted erotic


I leant back in my chair and sighed loudly. The sound of his name brought out my inner bitch, and she was pissed off.

It was another meeting with the man who swaggered around like he was god’s gift to business and women. From the moment I’d met him, I knew he’d find ways to make my life hard. I tried to be polite, and then I avoided him, but he always found a way to get under my skin with his loud northern accent and his affinity to make everyone around him laugh in genuine amusement. I could understand if it was only women that hung on his word. Since the day he’d strode into the office, tossed his jacket on the chair, and rolled up his sleeves, the office women had been mesmerised, and when the CEO announced him as the guy who’d taken over the company, the women wanted him more. Was it because he had the power to make them do whatever he wanted?

The men adored him as well. He talked with enthusiasm about sports, joked with them at the annual barbecue and let everyone try his top-shelf alcohol.

But I hated the guy. Why? Because he repeatedly found ways to make my job difficult. My sales figures were never enough. Maybe the others liked being pushed to be better, but I think he needed to learn to manage his expectations. He’d cut my department twice in the two years since he’d started, and he’d forced me to let go of some people who’d given a lot to the company. His demands were relentless, and he never apologised. But I hated him because even with all that, I spent my nights naked and sweaty, imagining what he could do to me if I asked him to.

Had I imagined the way he glanced at my legs when I wore my tight shift dress? It was a favourite for the office because it gave me a bad boss energy. The day I bent over his desk to point out that I was hitting every target every week, I swore he shifted himself in his chair a little. I won’t deny that I hadn’t expected to reveal so much of my chest or that my lacy bra’s lace might have been on show. The dark, almost hungry look he’d given me as I’d turned to glare at him before I’d left the office had helped me finger myself to orgasm several times that night.

That didn’t stop me hating him, though or regretting dressing more provocatively than I intended that day. I hadn’t expected him to be in the office. There was no meeting on the calendar. But when he’d called his PA to demand we meet with less than five minutes notice, every sales and account manager had run to the board room for fear of being on his shit list.

The provocative outfit wasn’t that bad. The air conditioner in my open-plan office was broken, and maintenance was waiting for a critical part. The day before, I’d come home dripping with sweat and ready to punch anyone who commented on it. I had no other option but to wear my short cotton dress with the low front and slits up the side. It wasn’t until I was sat in the board room, legs crossed, that I realised the slits revealed my entire thigh, exposing nearly to my knickers.

“Don’t be a prick, Jeff,” he said down the phone with a growl that reminded me of my fantasy about him from the night before. I pulled at the hem of my dress with trembling hands as I remembered my dream of his hands gripping my hips as he fucked me over the arm of my sofa. I hadn’t even needed my vibrator last night with that image, and I’d come within ten minutes of getting home after having him shout down the phone at me earlier that day. At least in my fantasies, I was in control, something I couldn’t imagine would happen if we hooked up. Not that I’d let that happen.

He glanced around the room at each of us. Did he see us as his minions? I knew from the way several of my colleagues licked their lips that they’d happily do whatever he wanted them to if he just said the words. At eleven o’clock every day, all the women from accounts would share a look he’d given them or a comment he’d shared that had convinced them he wanted them.

His eyes paused briefly on me at the unfortunate moment I was trying to yank down my dress, which only made the low V of the front dip even more. I covered myself as a boob threatened to pop out.

He raised an eyebrow momentarily before continuing his inspection of his team.

How dare he raise his eyebrow at me. How could I hate him and yet imagine him bending me over my desk at the same time?

He made each of us share our figures for that week, and then he quizzed us on what our plans for the year were. I flicked through my notes, desperately trying to think of something innovative to say, but I had nothing to add.

He tipped his head in my direction, which was his way of demanding I go to the front and face his bullshit. I closed my eyes as I stood to stop me rolling my eyes. I didn’t understand why we had to go to the front; it wasn’t fucking school.

With his back to everyone else, his gaze ran across my body. I fought the temptation to nibble my lip. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“Go on,” he said before licking his lips.

His bold attitude froze me to the spot. Usually, I’d give as good as I got but the deep timbre of his voice combined with the look of lust I swore he was giving me left me speechless. It was as if my fantasy was teasing me again, and I could hear the same deep timbre in my head whispering the dirtiest commands to me.

“Today, please,” he added, causing wetness to pool in my knickers. I fumbled with my papers. He licked his lips which had transformed into a grin. To everyone else, it looked like I was struggling with his request, but he knew that’s not what was happening. Fucking bastard.

My anger propelled my words forward, and I gave an excellent presentation considering I hadn’t had any time to prepare and that I was fighting arousal that made my skin prickle with heat.

When I finished, he didn’t quiz me like he had everyone else. Instead, he tilted his head, gave me one last look and nodded my dismissal. I could have killed him in that second, but instead, I purposely dropped my folder next to him and whispered “dickhead” in his ear as I bent down to pick it up.

His chuckle surprised me. I’d never insulted a boss before to his face, especially not the owner of the company who could call for my immediate dismissal, but he brought out my fire.

I strode away and slumped in my chair, unsure if I wanted to punch him or fuck him. The rest of the presentations were a blur. I was only conscious of the back of his head and the occasional movement he gave in his chair. He wasn’t wriggling, but it was as if he suddenly couldn’t keep still.

Suddenly he turned. “Not bad. Not great, but not bad. Some of you need to work on your plans for the year, and a couple of you need to start managing your fucking teams. Now get back to work.” Each of us got to our feet and collected our stuff. I smoothed down my dress for good measure. “Except you.”

I looked up, wondering which sucker was on his shit list now.

He was looking right at me. Of course he was. Fuck.

“You can stay with me. We need to talk about your work.”

I’d avoided being alone in a room with him since the incident in his office. I wasn’t scared of what he’d do to me, but I was scared of what I wanted to do to him. Punch or fuck were the two highest things on my list.

“Lucky, bitch,” one of the accounting team whispered in my ear as she slipped past me on her way to the door.

He pointed to the chair next to him, and I slowly walked and sat while the room emptied. There was no point arguing with the boss.

“First, I want to say that you’re working well, and I am impressed with the plans you laid out,” he said slowly with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“Are you serious?”

That question got me a glare. He didn’t like questions that didn’t need to be asked.

I crossed my legs and marvelled at the way his gaze climbed up my thighs. If asked, I would have denied my actions, but I’d done it to tease him. Hearing his compliment gave me a funny kind of confidence.

“Secondly, I’d appreciate it if you wore something more demure to work next time,” he said, shifting his trousers.

I grinned, knowing I had him where I wanted him for the first time. “You’re not allowed to ask that,” I replied, leaning forward so that the low V of my dress hung lower.

“I believe I am,” he said as he closed his eyes. Was he so desperate to look down the front of my dress that he’d had to close his eyes? My hornyness latched on to my need to repay how angry he’d made me in the past. I wanted power over him.

“See, the thing is,” I replied as I waited for his eyes to open again. “The air con in my office is broken, and we are in the middle of a heatwave. If you would prefer me to be a sweaty mess, then I can wear something different.” I readjusted my seat position, crossing my legs slower this time before raising my arms high in a fake stretch. At his angle, I realised that it looked like I had no knickers on. His eyes darkened as they returned to my thigh. “I will do whatever you want. The decision is yours, boss. Now, if you don’t mind, I have targets to hit.”

I sashayed towards the door. I revelled in my confidence and hoped he was watching my arse as I walked away.

“I didn’t say you could go,” he grunted. That’s when I knew I had him.

I turned, finding him standing behind me. For a second, he stared at my eyes, waiting for consent. I let my lip slip between my teeth before replying, “Go on then, I dare you.”

Like lightning crackling out of nowhere, he exploded. He pushed me against the wall, pinning my hands above my head with one hand. The other moved slowly down my body, across my breasts, pausing to grab my hip before moving lower. His erection was hard against my body, and I rubbed myself against him.

His hand was coarser than I expected as it slipped below the hem of my dress. I opened my legs for him, and his palm brushed between my thighs. He kissed my neck, giving the slightest bite before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Everything trembled as he fingered the hem of my knickers before slipping beneath and grazing my skin. I jumped at the contact. It was the barest touch but felt so good.

“You were wearing underwear. I’m a little disappointed,” he growled in my ear as I wriggled against his finger. “I love it when a woman goes commando; it makes me want to fuck her hard.”

My whimper surprised both of us.

His laugh was as deep as his growl, and it filled every inch of my body, making me breathe deeply. He smelt woody yet musky, and I longed for his scent to brand my skin.

The tip of his finger was suddenly on my clit, and I ground myself against him wanting more. My hands were still pinned within his grasp, and I moved as if controlled by an invisible power pushing myself against him as he held me in place. I was out of control as I writhed against his finger.

“Maybe you should remove my knickers,” I groaned back.

He let out a deep sigh, and his body shuddered against mine. “Good idea. Lift your hem for me, gorgeous,” he released my hands and dropped down to his knees. My head fell back, only held up by the wall, and I gripped the hem of my dress with both my hands revealing my covered pussy to him.

He sucked my clit through my knickers, sending a shot of arousal to my core. The ache in my belly that had demanded satisfaction all morning seemed to grow and burn with pure need.

Slowly he slipped his fingers beneath the waistband of my lacy black knickers before dragging them down my legs. My pussy was exposed to him. The heat inside me was at odds with the cool air between my thighs.

I lifted my legs to step out of my knickers and watched as he slipped them in the pocket of his chinos. He winked at me in a way that made me blush. He ran his hands up and down my legs, never reaching my pussy, before blowing cool air on my wet clit, cooling the air and making me revel in unexpected tingles that crisscrossed my body.

Even when I tried to be in control, he turned me into a mess.

He kissed up my legs, pushing them further apart as he got higher. He gripped one thigh tightly with his hand. The slightest sensation of pain turned me on, and I couldn’t fathom why. I didn’t care. I wanted more of him. His skin was hot against mine, and I wondered what it would be like to straddle him and have his skin against my inner thighs as I rode him.

That we were in a boardroom, and anyone could come down the corridor and see us barely registered in my head. I wanted any part of him that he would give me.

“I’ve wanted to do this for years. Every time I considered it, I knew it would be the stupidest decision I ever made,” he said before swapping to my other leg and caressing it with his lips. As soon as he got to my pussy, I knew I wouldn’t be able to make coherent words, let alone sentences.

“Why now?” I whimpered as his kisses climbed higher.

“I couldn’t think of anything else. I didn’t even need to be here today, but I had to see you. Thank fuck for broken air conditioning.”

It wasn’t the sexiest line I’d ever heard, but the way he said fuck before sucking hard on my clit made me wobble so hard he had to grab my hips to stop me from falling. With a flat tongue, he licked up my pussy in one stroke. I managed to look down for the briefest moment. He looked back at me, his lips wet from my juices.

The most powerful man I’d ever met was on his knees and bringing me pleasure that went beyond every fantasy. His tongue was rough against my pussy. My body shook as he feasted on me. His fingers gripped me tightly as he licked and sucked. I held my cries in, but I desperately wanted to scream his name.

With the tip of his tongue, he made circles across my clit before he pushed it inside me. I bit my finger to stop the shouts that were desperately trying to flee my mouth. His tongue continued to thrust inside me. My body shook, and I closed my eyes, revelling in every sensation. I rocked against his mouth as he continued to push his tongue inside me, relentlessly giving me something I’d been missing on my own.

“Fucking hell, you’re the sexiest and sassiest woman,” he said suddenly as he pulled away and sat back on his heels. Even the slightest touch he gave me was enough to make the wetness touch my thighs. Occasionally he lent forward to run his knuckles between my thighs or give me a playful lick. “Play with yourself for me.”

I reached down and slid my fingertip across my clit. It was wetter than I expected, but I had enough friction to bring the familiar arousal that my touch gave me. He watched with a satisfied smile on his face. I slid a finger inside me, but it wasn’t enough because I wanted him.

My brow furrowed as I tried to get the release I desperately needed. It was like there was a raging battle in front of me, and I couldn’t win; however hard I tried.

“You’re not going to cum for me?” he asked.

“I can’t,” I replied. It wasn’t a whine, but it could have been. I was desperate for an orgasm.

“How about now?” he asked as he stood up and slid two fingers inside me. He pumped me hard as I continued to rub my clit. The combination of him and I together made my arousal somersault throughout my body. The burning in my belly had transformed into a fire that nothing could put out. I squeezed my thighs to make him pump quicker and harder. “Cum for me,” he growled in my ear. “If you do it now, I’ll take you for dinner tonight and then fuck you hard on the balcony of my apartment so that everyone can see how fucking delicious you are. Cum for me.”

Stars exploded, and I came close to blacking out. I held my breath as I crossed into an earth-shattering climax. He pressed a hand over my mouth so that I could scream against him. I pushed myself into the wall as every limb clenched before releasing. I wanted him inside me. I wanted him to bend me over a balcony and fuck me from behind. He kissed and sucked on my neck as I came apart against him. My body turned to jelly as my orgasm ripped through me. I panted hard as he took his hand off my mouth. His shit-eating grin made me laugh and want to punch him. Even as he sucked his fingers, the smile didn’t leave his face. Slowly I came down from my high, my energy gone and satisfaction my reward.

“Best day at work I’ve ever had,” he said with a chuckle as he smoothed my dress down. As I struggled to stand by myself, he grabbed my hip. “You okay?”

“I’m fucking awesome,” I laughed. “Best meeting I’ve had with you, but not my best day at work.”

“The day isn’t over yet, gorgeous,” he replied with a wink that made my legs tremble, much to my annoyance. I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the effect he had on me. I was now in the boss’ fan club, but I wasn’t going to let him know that.

“Maybe catch you later,” I said as I walked shakily to the papers that I hadn’t remembered dropping on the floor.

He grabbed me and kissed me hard on the mouth, making me quiver again. “I’ll pick you up at five.” There was a hint of a question. Maybe he wasn’t as self-assured as he appeared. I kissed him back just as fierce and walked him back towards the wall. We made out like teenagers. I grabbed and pulled at his shirt as his hands kneaded my bum beneath my dress. His chino covered erection rubbed against my pussy, and at the friction, I ground myself against him.

I leant back breathless. “If you insist, lovely,” I replied before giving him one last peck and leaving the room, my papers forgotten.


Chasing Rainbows

Somebody That I Used to Know

Night at the bar

“Homeless, dumped and fired.  Sorry I took “voluntary redundancy”, i.e. leave, or we’ll fire you because the company can’t afford to keep you or the rest of hundred people we’re offering voluntary redundancy to.

“My life couldn’t get any worse right? Oh yeah, I lost half my friends, and my parents wouldn’t speak to me. I’ve followed my life plan since I was twelve years old. I used my £25 birthday money and opened my first bank account to save for university. Then I watched my best mate, George, who was born on the same day as me, waste all of his birthday money on CDs from HMV and the biggest McDonald’s ever.

“At university, I met my fiancé, ex-fiancé, Brian. We were studying accounting, and it was his ultimate dream to be a wealthy accountant. I was interested in psychology, but that didn’t fit into my long- term plan of comfortable job, married by twenty-five and first child by twenty-eight so I chose accounting. George rolled his eyes when I told him I’d applied to study accounting. He nearly disowned me when I told him that Brian and I were an official couple. “University is about sex and having lots of it,” he’d shouted down the phone as in the background giggling ladies had screamed his name at his sixth party that week. Maybe university life was about sex for lots of people, including George, but I had a plan.

“Over time, my plan got harder to stick to. I didn’t have the wedding ring or baby by twenty-eight, but as Brian said, we were both completing our qualifications to be certified accountants. We were climbing the ladder. “There isn’t time to do everything,” he reminded me at an old school friend’s wedding as we’d watched George avoid the advances of one of the bridesmaids. It was George who’d sat with me when Brian was called into the office late that Saturday. I’d drank a lot of tequila, cried on his shoulder about not loving Brian that much anyway and then he’d held my hair back as I’d chucked up the contents of my stomach behind the marquee. I’d refused to talk about it after that, assuring George that I did love Brian and it must have been the evil drink talking. But he knew me well enough to know when I was honest. I should have done something about it then.

“Instead, I’m thirty-one, Brian and I have decided we don’t love each other and I’ve moved out of his apartment. Our friends have picked sides, even though it was amicable, and my parents aren’t speaking to me because I’ve diverted from the plan and it must be my fault “because Brian is just the best, isn’t he?”. He was sensible, good at saving and had a brilliant job. What more could a woman want?

“Sex! I haven’t had sex in a year, and before then it was mediocre. That’s what a woman wants; incredible, mind-blowing, headboard breaking sex. The sort that makes you scream if you’re a screamer, that makes you take a photo of yourself in the toilets at work because you’re soaking wet, and that makes you stay in bed all day because you need to do it again and again. But that doesn’t exist beyond books. Right?

“And now, thanks to my godfather who is a university chancellor I’m back at university studying Sports Psychology and living in halls. Over the last week, I’ve felt ancient around these freshers. I reckon at least twenty of them have propositioned me, but I’m way too old to sleep with them, aren’t I?”

“That’s great, lovely, but why are you telling me this? I asked if you wanted another glass of wine,” the Aussie bartender, who’d been supplying all I needed to drown my sorrows that night, stated. Glasses clinked together as he tidied up the now quiet bar. It was depressing to be alone in a bar at eleven o’clock on a Sunday evening, but I was too drunk to care. I toyed with the hem of my wrap around summer dress. It hit just above the knee, except when the wind got up, and I flashed anyone lucky enough to be watching. That might explain the come-ons I had today. Maybe if it blew up in front of the bartender, it would turn him on. I contemplated giving him flash as a taster. “Except now I’m cutting you off. No more alcohol for you, in fact, it’s time you went home.”

“You don’t want to have sex with me either?” I slurred before pursing my lips and giving him a wobbly-eyed wink.

His eye roll wasn’t subtle. “I’m gay, and even if I wasn’t, you’re way too drunk. Is there someone I can call to get you home safely?”

Who did I have? Not Brian, not my parents, and hardly any friends. They’d all be in bed getting ready for the Monday morning grind. One name popped into my head, and I slid my phone over to Scott, the bartender with George’s name and number on the screen. Scott’s sleeves rose slightly to show his tattooed forearms.

“Oh, I like those,” I’d whispered before I dropped my head to my arms and let my eyes drift closed. My dark wavy long-bob hid the world from my eyes. I was so tired. It had been a manic couple of months since the worst day of my life, and now it was the end of Freshers week. I was exhausted keeping up with eighteen-year-olds while wondering how my life went so wrong. The chatter from the remaining patrons lulled me to sleep.

The next thing I remembered was the voice of an angel whispering in my ear. “Grace, can you hear me? Wake up, Grace.”

With his soft home counties accent, he called my name a bit louder. I let out a breath that made my full lips vibrate noisily. Then I drifted off and returned to the lovely dream I’d been having about a sexy, straight bartender who held me against the wall with his thick tattooed forearms.

“GRACE!” the angel had turned to a devil and was hollering in my ear.

I lifted my head slightly and side-eyed the devil. A grin spread across my face when the fluffy, brown hair came into view. “George, you’re here. When did you get here?” My enthusiasm was like that of a teenage girl at a pop concert. I turned to the barman. “Aussie dude, meet my friend George. He’s the tallest man in the world. How tall are you, George?”

“The same height I’ve been since school,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. I wasn’t so drunk I didn’t notice. I coughed into the sleeve of my denim jacket. Gross. When did my mouth fumes get so bad? My stomach dropped as I reached for my wine glass. Damn, it was empty.

I remembered I was talking to someone about my bestie. Of course, the hot bartender. “George peaked early. When we were at school people called us Midget and the Giant. Cause I’m 5 foot nothing to his 6 foot 4. Take off your shoes, and I’ll walk around in them like we used to. It will make Aussie Dude laugh. He needs a laugh; he’s had a hard day. This crazy drunk woman has been telling him her life story.” I giggled at myself.

What did they say about men with big shoes? Oh yeah, they had big feet. No, that wasn’t it. Something about their dicks? I side-eyed George’s crotch. It had to be massive. Why didn’t I know, though? He was my school bestie who at parties I’d share a bed with. He was too busy getting with any female with a pulse to look at tiny, yet curvy me. I’d once been in bed pretending to sleep, after my eighteenth birthday, when he’d had sex with some guy’s older sister on the floor. He thought I was asleep, but I could see what was happening through the reflection in the mirror. I’d never told him about that. He’d kneeled against her as she played with her clit, whispering filthy things as he thrust into her. As she’d screamed his name, he’d covered her mouth, probably worried they’d wake me. But it was his eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched as he came that I’d stared at. I’d wanked over that memory a couple of times at university, even after I met Brian.

George was squatting so that he’s grey eyes were level with mine. All my accounting friends had wanted to fuck him at some point, including my very married boss, but he had kept them at bay. From what I could gather, George had semi-regular secret hook-ups that had no connection to his everyday life. And these days if he wasn’t busy working he was busy exercising. He’d decided to do an ironman competition and was working to be at his peak fitness. “Grace, sweetheart, have you been telling the poor guy about your plan?”

At the reminder of the plan, my face fell. Oh no, I was going straight from happy, annoying drunk to maudlin drunk. “I told Scott that I broke the plan. Everything is broken, Georgey Boy.” I liked to call him that sometimes because I knew it annoyed him. It tended to be a drunk thing.

I dropped my head against the bar, not caring about the bang it made as it hit the wood. Surely that should hurt? I caught Scott’s whispers as he caught George up with what I’d told him. George knew most of it, and he’d been the one who’d convinced me to go back to university. Maybe I should take a leaf out of his book and be shagging my way around uni, but they were all so young! They didn’t even know how good Craig David was the first time around or what a pager was. I laughed loudly to myself, but I wasn’t sure why. I was bladdered. I sensed a couple of people looking over, but I ignored them and played with the cord from my burgundy dress instead. The V at my chest wasn’t low enough to be indecent. How low would I have to bend to show George my boobs? Would he even care? I was too horny, and he was my bestie. I flashbacked to him having sex on my floor. If he was as good at it as I remembered when he was eighteen, he must be Cassanova now. Maybe he’d be the one to give me that one-off experience?

“Okay, Grace. I’m not taking you back to uni now. You can stay at mine,” George helped me off the chair. I got a whiff of his hair, it smelt of grapefruit and was damp at the ends. Had I got him out the shower? I must have been horny because instantly I imagined him soaping himself up as the water cascaded down. What was going on in my head?

My feet hit the sticky floor. What had happened to my heels? As I looked up, I found myself staring at George’s chest. I reached out a hand. When did his pecs get so hard? Even his t-shirt couldn’t hide it.

“Damn, George. You’ve been working out.” I stroked a hand down his chest to his abs and giggled when he sucked in a breath.

“Looks like I’m going to have to deal with you the same way I did when we were at sixth form,” he said with a smile. He took my hand in his, and before I had the chance to ask if we were going to dance, he tossed me over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Midge.”

Ah, the sweet version of my nickname from school. “Don’t forget my purse, Big G,” I chuckled. At school, I’d started calling him Big G when he called me Midge. Our mates thought it was because I’d seen his cock, which according to his exes was big, girthy and every woman’s dream. “Or my shoes. And don’t let anyone see my knickers, they’re my favourites, Big G.”

I giggled again.

“Why do you keep laughing?” he replied, popping a hand on my bum to keep my dress down while striding to the door. The heat from his hands caressed my bum. I gave Scott a wave as we headed outside. The rumble of traffic filled the air.

“Because Mr Strong Man, I’ve just realised I’ve never seen the real Big G close up and I’m wondering how big he is. Can I see it tonight? I’m sure he’d cheer me up,” I tried to coo.

He gave my bum a tap, and I covered my mouth to hold back the moan.

“No, Grace, you can’t see my dick tonight. I’m sorry you’re not having the best time at the moment, but I think it will improve. And just so you know, I’ve missed drunk you. You’re always the most innocent, so when you get drunk, it’s even better. I’m glad you’re not with Brian, he didn’t deserve you,” he replied, but I wasn’t listening. There was something in the way he’d tapped my bum and then said dick that made me ache to have him inside me. Would he spank me if I asked nicely?

I don’t know if it was the thought of his dick or just the alcohol, but I must have passed out soon after with his voice repeating the word dick over and over in my head.

Head Over Feels – Less than three weeks to go!

My Rugby Romance

I can’t tell you how much I love this book. Head Over Feels is a contemporary romance with humour and mouth-watering sex. But why do I love it so much?

Head Over Feels contemporary romance debut novelIs it because it’s my debut novel? That’s right I’ve never released a novel before. You may have read my short stories or purchased my anthologies, but this is my novel, and no matter what happens next with my writing, this was my first. You never forget your first.

Because I’ve been writing Head Over Feels for years? It took me six months to write the first draft and then four years to develop, edit, and perfect. I’ve cried over this story, screamed at it, and improved my writing skills along the way. If not for incredible Twitter writers like Stefanie Simpson and Sarah Smith, who held my hand and helped me believe, I wouldn’t have got this far.

It’s about rugby and is unapologetically British. I’ve read excellent sports romance books before. There are racy ones about ice hockey by Helena Hunting, novels focusing on American football and horse racing but rugby union is rare. From the first match I attended I’ve loved rugby. The power and strength emanating from the players are palpable. They are at their peak, in a dangerous battle that could destroy their bodies as they fight for survival. And for those who don’t know, rugby is as sexy as hell. And the British thing? It features the seaside, a curry house filled with lads on stag weekends and a very English cathedral. What more could you want?

Head Over Feels debut contemporary romance novel

The start is inspired by an evening I’ll never forget; the night I met a rugby playing artist. Little did I know that one cold evening in Winter the hot guy flirting with me as I offered him a canapé was a national rugby player. Sadly, there was no illicit romance in the cathedral’s cloisters, and the rugby player in my story bears no resemblance to the man I met, but that one night inspired something significant.

It displays that real life gets in the way of romance. My years of online dating showed me how much baggage people have. While I never met anyone with a medical history or grief like Aidan’s, I have met people who are temporarily damaged because of friends and ex-partners. I know what it’s like to date when you have secrets that you’re scared to share, and I brought that fear and vulnerability into this book.

Best of all, the sex in Head Over Feels is hot and plentiful.


Want to find out for yourself?

Head Over Feels comes out on Friday 12th February. Whether you need something to perk you up during the pandemic or the six nations has inspired you to read about hot rugby guys, or you want a man you can rely on to please you at Valentine’s make sure you download a story you’ve never read before.

You can pre-order the e-book here or wait until 12th February for the paperback.

Here’s an excerpt where Sophia and Aidan meet for the second time in his swimming pool. Is Aidan really who he seems and what is scaring Sophia about taking the plunge?

An Excerpt from Head Over Feels

She’s here. Aidan’s eyes stung with chlorine, and his deep breaths hurt his chest, but still, he sensed her.

It was as if the heat from her stare seared his flesh, even as the cold water created a protective layer around his body. I haven’t swum this hard in years. But he wanted to show her how well he performed. When her eyes fluttered closed at night, he had to be the man she dreamt of.

His confidence faltered as he noticed she was leaving. Was she disappointed? Aidan wasn’t a big rugby player, but he was strong and muscular, and women adored his agile form.

“Wait!” he shouted, water rushed into his mouth, the ensuing coughs hiding the desperation in his voice. The waterline peaked above his pecs as he stood on the tiles of the bottom of the pool. Droplets of water trickled off his shoulders before joining the rest of the pool with a drip-drip noise. Sophia stopped, her shoulders sagging.

His pulse raced as she turned. He’d memorised everything about her and yet now she was finally in front of him, she took his breath away. Aidan’s gaze followed her curves, pausing at the hips he remembered holding, his hands twitched in anticipation. With deep sighs, Sophia’s breasts moved slowly up and down. The familiar sensation of his jolting cock stole blood from his brain.

“Why were you were leaving?”

Sophia faltered. Her gaze flitted around the room, looking at everything but him.

“I didn’t want to disturb you, I mean, disturb your swimming,” she said quickly.

“You weren’t disturbing anything.” His palms went to the edge of the pool directly in front of her feet. He fixed her with a stare as he pulled himself up and out, but her face reddened, and she quickly broke eye contact. Water slid down his naked body. He stood in front of her, not close enough to touch. His muscles continued to burn from the swim, but they competed for his attention against his growing erection.

Her eyes struggled to meet his. They repeatedly dipped, trying to see more of his body, almost as if controlled by an unwavering force. He grinned when her eyes finally lingered on his. He hoped she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“You look tired. Didn’t you sleep well last night?” Aidan asked, causing Sophia to flinch. He’d hit a nerve.

“Aren’t you cold? Maybe you should get dressed,” she replied.

“I can’t get naked in front of you.” He stated. Her dark brown eyes widened. He caught her looking at his crotch before looking away. Aidan nearly pumped his fist triumphantly into the air.

They stared wordlessly at each other. Sophia’s teeth tugged at her plump lower lip, which made him craved a kiss from her. Would she taste sweet? How would the rest of her taste? Sophia was a mystery he was aching to uncover.

His old Irish team swim shorts couldn’t hide his erection much longer. The green material clung to his thighs. They were roomy, but soon he’d be straining if she carried on staring at him like that.

“Don’t you have a towel you could put on? You might get cold or something?” Sophia responded hesitantly, fiddling with her blouse, pulling the bottom of it down. All she succeeded in doing was pulling it tighter against her breasts and giving him a view that made his body hum.

“There’s one over there.” A lone finger casually pointed to the corner of the room, eyes never leaving hers. “You can get it for me seeing as you’re concerned.”

Golden flecks appeared to crackle inside her eyes.

“I couldn’t care less to be honest,” she replied with a cheeky smile. “But I thought that you’d want to give your best performance tomorrow, seeing as you’re playing Bath. Aren’t the Bulls and Bath meant to be massive rivals?”

“Did you Google me?” She rolled her eyes, but the grin didn’t waver. “I’m flattered you’re so concerned about my “performance”.”

She huffed at him but continued to stand her ground. He stepped closer, and she met him head-on.


Smutathon 2020 – Cheerleader

Smutathon is today! The aim this year is to raise money for Endometriosis UK. Smutathon is when erotica writers , sex bloggers and adult educators write something smutty for good causes. Endometriosis is a condition where tissue similar to the lining of the womb starts to grow in other places, such as the ovaries and fallopian tubes. It can be extremely painful and debilitating. It’s also a widely misunderstood condition.

You can donate here and read some lovely erotica here.

When one of my friend’s told me that this week she’s been diagnosed with endometriosis I knew that it was time to get writing. What was my prompt? This particular friend calls me her cheerleader, based on some life coaching we had at work. Your cheerleader is someone who supports you and cheers you on in your life. I started with the word cheerleader and here is what happened. Note – one quick story with no editing.


“Go on show me,” Greg shouted from outside the bedroom door.

“I look stupid,” Kate replied, turning to the side before shaking her head and turning back to face the mirror. Pop tunes from her university clubbing days played in the background. Maybe they’ll get me pumped for tonight.

She shrugged at the black and red cheerleading dress. It was so tight it could have been painted on. The outfit started at her shoulders, creating a deep vee at her bust before travelling down and then the dress pleated at her upper thighs. Kate turned quickly making the skirt part of her dress flutter in the air. A flash of red caught her eye. Why hadn’t Greg’s sister, Jan, told her it was a fancy-dress hen do before she’d agreed to go? The regulation cheerleader costume was indecent. Even the red pants that were a little bigger than knickers and supposed to reduce the flesh on show had “sexy bum” written on the back.

“I bet you look stunning. Let me in. I’ll massage your ego,” Greg said before dropping his voice in a way that made her subconsciously clench her thighs. “I’ll massage other things too.”

She’d never normally wear something like this. It wasn’t that she was against a bit of skin showing, but Saturday nights in town were a thing of her past. Greg was the only one who saw her dressing sexily these days. And I’m scared what they’d say about me and my body. Jan didn’t care what people thought about her. Her main aim was to be herself and have a good time doing it. She’d probably accessorise her cheerleader costume with a flashing penis headband and a giant inflatable cock. Maybe I should be more like her.

Kate opened the door, and Greg let out a long whistle. “Fuck me, honey. You look amazing.”

She shook her head again, forcing her high ponytail to bounce in the air. “I’m going to look ridiculous compared to the other hens. All of your sister’s friends are hot.”

“You’re hot,” he pulled her towards the mirror and eased her in front of him. “When I look at you, I know I’m the luckiest man in the world. I got to marry you. You could have chosen anyone, but that day you asked me out at the office Christmas party I knew I would do anything to call you my wife one day.”

Kate returned his gaze in the mirror. He’d said this to her before. She’d been so drunk at that party that she’d finally advanced on him, her crush for two years, and shouted out her request. Her friends had egged her on all night, and eight gins later she’d declared her interest. Now they were married, and they were building up to another wedding. Jan’s was going to be epic, but before that, there was a hen party to get through.

Greg bent down and pulled up one of her black and white stripey socks, securing it above her knee. His lips brushed her thigh briefly before he pulled up the other one. This time his kisses climbed higher. He paused at the edge of her cheerleader pants.

“Hmmm, ‘sexy bum’. I couldn’t say it better myself,” he said hungrily before giving her bum cheek a little bite through her pants.

“I’m nervous about tonight,” she confessed. Greg stood quickly and grabbed her hips, squeezing gently. She rocked her pelvis gently against him. “I don’t know how I’m going to cope with all those women and their excitement.”

“I know, honey. But whenever you want to come home, call me and I will be there.” He planted kisses against her neck. One of his hands dropped lower before slipping under her pleats. Kate held her breath. “And I’ll send you messages all through the night of what I’m going to do when I pick you up. Maybe I need to get you more excited too so that you rival them.”

“Please,” she released it like a breath of longing. Beyonce’s ‘Drunk in Love’ came on her playlist. How many times had they had sex to that song?

He dragged his nails up the inside of her thigh. Kate made a bleating noise that in public would have embarrassed her. He loved that noise.  

“Or I could give you a taster of what will happen now,” he said between kisses.

He brushed his hand across her pants. Kate grabbed it as he tried to withdraw it and held it against her. “You’re very hot, sweetie.”

Their marriage was often a game of teasing. Their weekends were spent pushing the boundaries of patience and toying with each other’s wants. Tonight wasn’t the first time she’d dressed up in front of him, although the outfits she wore were usually a little more risqué.  

He massaged her pussy through her pants, running lazy circles with his thumb against her heat as he met her gaze in the mirror.

“Don’t stop,” she mouthed. Greg slipped his hand inside her cheerleader pants, and she gasped when she felt the skin on skin contact.

“I love it when you’re wet for me,” he stated before rubbing her clit. He worked faster this time. His finger was rough, and she moaned at the friction. “Tonight, when I pick you up, I’m going to do this to you in the alleyway next to the club. I’m going to stand you in front of the security camera and put a show on for the security guards who will check the footage. How do you feel about that?”

Although anxious about showing her skin, he knew there was one time she was happy to perform. She insisted on exhibitionism when she was drunk and horny. He usually stopped her in anticipation of her embarrassment when sober, but a couple of times she’d gone down on him in car parks in nearby cities and once when camping they’d sneaked to the beach at midnight and fucked quickly. The sand in awkward places had been worth it for the rush. She hadn’t regretted any of their experiences, and they’d talked the other night about pushing the boundaries. But sex near their home with people they knew in the building was something new.

“Do you like the sound of that?” he asked as he eased a finger inside her. She moaned quietly. His smile was against her neck as he kissed her again. What did they say about men? That they couldn’t multi-task? Thank god that was an old wives’ tale.

He pumped his finger inside her a couple of times. She wriggled, but he reached his other hand into her bra and squeezed her breast, holding her tightly against him. He was as horny as her, and his erection pushed into her back.

“You know we’ve only got a couple of minutes before the cheerleader taxi arrives. I don’t know if I’ll get the chance to make you come,” he growled. “You might have to spend the night horny and soaking wet.”

She knew he was right. In this position, she usually struggled to orgasm, but it didn’t stop her opening her legs wider.

“Then I guess you’d better hurry up,” she replied, a Cheshire cat smile across her face.

He squeezed her hard nipple between his fingers, causing her to shout out.

He laughed so deeply behind her that her stomach flipped. His cock pulsed against her arse, and she writhed against him. If she was going to spend the evening worked up, then so was he. “I’m going to make you cum so hard in front of those cameras tonight. Your mouth will be in the perfect O shape as I slip my cock inside you.”

The dirty beat of the music was a soundtrack to her moans, and her musky scent filled the air around them.

His fingers pumped quicker as if he was responding to her haste. Greg’s kisses against her neck became little sucks and bites. Was he marking her as his and warning off other guys tonight? She smiled at the idea. With each passing second, her need for release grew, and she moved her body in rhythm with his fingers willing her climax closer. She was panting his name now. Sweat beaded her forehead, and she splayed her hands against the cold glass of the mirror.

“Everyone is going to see me fuck you,” he growled as she ground against his fingers.

“All the men are going to want you tonight.” He grunted loudly. She’d avoided kissing him for fear of smearing her makeup. But I don’t care anymore. She turned to feast on him, something that would help her closer to the edge if not over it.

Her orgasm was so close. One more minute was all she needed. The song filled her limbs, and her arms started to tremble in anticipation. She could go on her night out satisfied.

The doorbell rang as her phone bleeped with a flurry of messages. Women screamed outside the front door.

“Fucking hell,” she screamed in annoyance.

Time was up, but the night had just begun.

I Gotta Feeling

Friends to lovers short story. Kiss

Don’t forget to read parts 1, 2 & 3 of this friends to lovers romance first, you can find them here: Stories

Lights flashed across the dancefloor as bodies moved against each other. The scent of sweat and sweet shots surrounded me as I danced with my flatmates to the latest Calvin Harris beats on a beer-soaked dancefloor. I’d not drank alcohol since George had left that afternoon, wanting to have a clear head. Instead, I attempted to forget him by dancing until everything hurt. I wanted my brain to stop. The one positive was that the moment with George on the sofa had put an end to Jamie’s advances, but at what cost? I hadn’t heard from George since he left the flat. Maybe Adele had invited him partying? Or he was avoiding me and what happened.

Had the interview gone well? George would have smashed it. Although I was full of hope for him, I couldn’t ignore the thing that hurt my heart and made me want to dance until I couldn’t feel anymore. Had I lost my best friend?

I let the beat thread through my limbs as I closed my eyes and let go. But every couple of seconds I opened my eyes and searched for his face in the crowd. Occasionally a hand touched my shoulder, and I’d twist, hoping to see his smile, and each time disappointment hit my gut as I came face to face with a stranger. The couples flirting within my eye line were a reminder of what we could have if we both felt the same way. Why had I waited so long to get to this place? What if it was one-sided? Were his reactions the result of hornyness that he’d now worked out of his system with a stranger?

I let all the questions out with a sigh and writhed my hips to the song. George had helped me recognise how sexy I was. Even if that knowledge was all I got from today, then it was a win. Sweat beaded my chest and slowly dripped down beneath the black satin slip dress I’d borrowed from my flatmate, Minnie. It was indecent, and I was so hot that it stuck to my skin. My feet would hurt in the morning, but I didn’t care, I was a fucking goddess in it, especially as I’d partnered it with sky-high black heels. The dress hit at the top of my thighs giving me legs that “went on for miles”. I ran my hands through my shoulder-length hair, closed my eyes and let go. The beat consumed me.

“That guy,” a shout that was as quiet as a whisper in my ear came from Minnie.

“Huh?” I asked, struggling out of my disorientated state.

“There’s a guy over there, near the bar. I can’t see his face properly, but I swear he’s staring over here at you,” she shouted. “He’s been looking for like five minutes.”

I squinted at where she was pointing, but I couldn’t see past the group to my right. It looked like some rugby players were out, even in my heels they eclipsed my view.

“Oh shit, he’s coming over.” She shimmied by my side. I’d made her promise that she wouldn’t let any guys try it on with me. I wasn’t in the mood tonight.

Suddenly it was as if the crowds parted to let him through.

“Oh my God,” she screamed in my ear. “It’s that radio presenter George Webster. I’m not standing in his way. Grace, you’d be lucky to have him.”

I knew he must have seen my Instagram. I’d unashamedly posted a picture of Minnie and me taken from the ladies toilets. I’d accompanied the photo with a tag to hint where we were dancing with the hope of baiting him. Minnie had called it a thirst trap because I was trying to get his attention with my sexy outfit. I couldn’t argue I’d posted it only with him in mind.

He nodded a hello at Minnie as he bent down and growled in my ear. “I hoped I’d find you here.”

A beaming grin hit my face. I didn’t want to play it cool with George anymore. “How did the interview go?”

“It was amazing. Adele divulged things she always used to refuse to talk about in interviews before. My boss said it was the best interview I’ve ever done. Today all my dreams came true.”

I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him hard, grateful he was still bent low. “I’m so happy for you.” He lifted me in the air and spun me around, making me giggle in delight. By the time he popped me back down on the floor on my wobbly heels, I was breathless. Being so close to him, his heat against me had left me more flushed than I’d expected.

“I think I just showed my knickers to the club,” I said through giggles.

“Lucky club,” he joked. “I was wondering if we could chat later.”

I nodded as the sweat on my chest trickled down underneath the front of my dress. I swore George watched the bead travel. He stared at my breasts as if he could see beneath the satin. “No, bra?” he mouthed.

I shook my head as wetness collected in my knickers.

He smiled broadly and started to dance with our group. We were surrounded by people but only looked at each other. What was he going to say? Couldn’t we have our chat now?


We fell into his flat, my heels hanging off my finger. The sun was coming up as he softly closed the front door. My housemates had gone back to the flat, but somehow we’d ended up at his apartment. I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to. It was time for the chat.

He took my hand and led me over to the sofa. His hand was warm, and my nerves fell away. I was with my best friend now, and whatever we said we had each other’s best interests at heart.

I dropped my shoes to the floor and tucked my legs beneath me, revealing my knickers in the process. George watched with an upturned mouth and raised eyebrows, but he didn’t comment. I sat against the soft leather facing him. With his long legs, he wasn’t going to tuck his under, but he looked at me anyway. There must have been a window open somewhere because the tweeting of the dawn chorus carried on a slight breeze.

“What’s going on, Grace,” he asked. “Was tonight about pretending to be your boyfriend again, or is there something going on between us. You’re my best friend, and that is important to me.”

“It’s important to me too,” I said so quietly that my voice was barely a whisper. “Tonight wasn’t about pretending to be anything. I’ve loved you as my best friend since we were kids, but something changed recently. I don’t understand it, and I’m scared of losing our friendship over a mistake.”

“Was earlier a mistake for you?” He furrowed his brow, and I fought my need to run my thumb across it and ease his confusion.

“No, it was one of the hottest moments of my life,” I confessed. In our twelve years together, I’d never felt like that with Brian. I’d been desperate for George to kiss me all night, but instead, he’d laughed with my friends, taken photos with fans in the club and danced until dawn. He’d stayed by my side all night. He was the same George who at our friend’s wedding had listened to my problems and taken care of me.

“Mine too,” he confessed.

I scooted closer. “But you’ve slept with so many women. You’ve met all kinds of celebrities who must have given you their number. Remember that one who wanted you to call her. The one that was in that American girl group; The Kitty Cats.”

He laughed and shrugged. “Yes, but thankfully nothing came of that. Grace, I think there’s something you should know.” He took my hands between his. They were rough from his workouts. The familiarity of being held by him was significant. It felt like home. “I’ve fancied you since we were twelve.”

“What?” I held his hands tighter. I thought back to the gangly teenage boy who took a while to grow into his body. At first, he was all limbs without any control over them. He used his humour to stop the bullies, and with that same humour, he’d transformed into a star on the radio.

“It was a teenage crush, at first. But then as we grew up, it turned into more. Do you remember when we played Truth or Dare, and we had to kiss?”

“Vividly. I can’t believe I vomited on your shoes.”

He smiled shyly. “I thought that would be my chance to make you fall for me.” He pinned me with his eyes, and my heart beat faster as he revealed a new side. His honesty made him vulnerable, and I didn’t dare look away.

I inched closer, encouraging him to open his heart to me. “And I ruined it.”

His laugh was brief but sincere. “Yeah. But I decided then it was time to let you go and live your life. I wanted you to go to university and work towards your plan. Then during uni or if I could wait, graduation, I would tell you how I felt and see what you thought. I wanted the opportunity to get over my crush too, but I wondered if we had a chance.”

“Is that why you told me to screw around instead of study all the time?” Even after hours of dancing, I could smell his aftershave. I breathed in the vanilla and grapefruit scent. It was the same smell that had been on his pillow the other night. It was like breathing our shared past. “Hold on. I recall you were screwing around a lot at university too.”

“But I wanted you to see the world. I knew your plan was important to you, but I didn’t want you to miss out either. And I wasn’t having as much sex as you thought. Don’t get me wrong, I was no innocent, and I have had a lot since.” My wide-eyed stare at the conversation made him hesitate. “Not that you need to know the details. Anyway, one night during our first year, I decided I couldn’t wait any longer. I was on the train from London to Birmingham, and I got the message that you’d met someone called Brian, and you thought he might be the one to fit with your plan.”

I dropped my head with embarrassment. Was that the reason I’d started dating Brian?

George tucked a finger under my chin and lifted my face to meet his eyes. “It’s okay. I didn’t know how you felt about me, let alone how you’d feel knowing that I’d been hiding this from you after all this time. What if you thought our friendship was a lie?”

“Was it?”

“No, I cared about you first and foremost as a friend. I hoped my the crush would fade. When you started going out with Brian, I resigned myself to you and him forever.” His Adam’s apple bobbed with every nervy swallow.

“And did it fade?” My breath caught in my throat.

“Yes.” I attempted to stop my shoulders from slumping. “Instead, I fell in love with you.”


“But I don’t expect you to feel the same. I just needed you to know. I couldn’t keep this in any longer. But no matter what you think or feel this friendship is still the most important thing in my life. I never want to lose that. But I need to know what was going on earlier when we kissed. That wasn’t a pretend boyfriend kiss.”

“All my life I’ve been following this plan and I wonder if somewhere along the line I forgot to enjoy life. The times we spent together when we were younger brought me joy. I remember going to parties, listening to hours and hours of music in your room and even volunteering at that retirement home. You were the one I could share my true self with. I knew you wouldn’t judge me. But I got caught up in the plan and I started a relationship with a man I’m not sure I ever loved. I believed that if I just stuck to the plan, I’d be happy.”

“And what made you the happiest?”

“You, always you. Wherever you were, I was happy. But the sexual thing? I don’t know where that came from. Maybe when I reset my life and started at university, I found something that was missing. I found me, and that version of me, the real me, wanted you. I want you for as long as this works.”

Sunshine poured through the window. When George went to university, I’d bought him a prism suncatcher that when he stuck to his window and the sun shone rainbows would fly around his room. He’d kept it all this time and hung it in his fancy London apartment. Rainbows covered the walls around us. It was a symbol of hope. But did I dare let myself believe we had a future? We had an incredible past, and maybe it could happen.

He stared back at me. The grey of his eyes left me mesmerised. “Are you sure this isn’t because Jamie rejected you tonight? I saw him kissing another “MILF”,” he teased.

I punched him in the shoulder as I pouted.

He quickly cupped my face and drew me to him. I leaned close as his lips met mine. The kiss was different from earlier. It was hot as hell but tender too. He tasted of sweet strawberry shots. I closed my eyes, and my hands travelled up to his face as he took the kiss deeper. George’s eyelashes fluttered against my skin; they were like little butterflies. My heart beat so fast that I wasn’t sure if his heart had merged with mine to create a frenetic beat. I eased his mouth open with my tongue and explored. His scent in my lungs and his hands against my skin felt right, and we kissed like two people who had been waiting a lifetime to share a caress.

Eventually, we pulled back at the same time as if synchronised. The smile on his face melted any trace of worry in my heart.

“We’re really doing this then?” he asked, his vulnerability clear when the question slipped from his lips.

“I can’t believe we waited so long,” I replied with a grin so wide I knew my face would hurt in the morning. Shit, it was already morning.

I took his hand and led him to the bedroom. He may have been a giant compared to me, but I knew I could lead him anywhere I wanted.

“Give me a moment? I need to go to the bathroom,” I said simply. With any other guy, I would have been too anxious to admit I needed the loo halfway through foreplay. But not with George. Doing it with a best friend made it easier.

“Ah, the old Gracie bladder,” he joked. “Just hurry, I want you back as soon as possible. It’s time I gave you my best.”

“As long as it includes you deep inside me, I’ll be happy,” I replied swiftly. George swallowed noisily, and I delighted in my ability to turn him on with a phrase.


I left the bathroom and found him sat on the bed in his boxers.

“I wanted to undress you,” I teased as I stepped closer and stood between his legs. I ran my hands across his chest. He was so broad now. My fingertips trailed a line across his pecs and down his abs. He tightened his stomach as I got lower and a sigh caught in my throat. He was beautiful.

His hands stroked the back of my thighs as they travelled towards my bum. “Next time you can do what you want with me, but I’ve been waiting for this moment for a very long time, and I don’t want my clothes to get in the way.” He stared up at me in awe. The heat between my legs burned as he reached up to my knickers and dragged them down my legs.

I stepped out gracefully before his hands moved up again. “I do have one question.” His voice vibrated through me. “Why do you keep wearing things that I get the urge to undo?”

I laughed; he had a point. The dress had a ribbon back. Our moment with my dressing gown belt had been on my mind when Minnie showed the dress. I turned to give him access to the ribbon, lifting my hair and holding it out of his way. His fingertips brushed my skin, heating it with his touch. The end of the ribbon skimmed my lower back, and he made a point of stroking me there as he undid it. My skin tingled as he ran his fingers across it.

The dress fell to the floor. He feathered kissed across my hips and gave my bum a little bite. I glared at him over my shoulder, but I was immediately transfixed by the way his pupils had dilated, and his mouth fell open. “Fucking hell. How did I get this lucky?”

“Before I turn, I just want to warn you that I don’t always love my body. I’ve worried for years that my breasts are too big, considering I’m only five foot.”

He choked. “They can’t be too big for me. Don’t forget I am a big guy and they won’t be bigger than my hands. Also, what the fuck, Grace? I’m pretty sure my mouth was on them earlier.”

I laughed and gave him a wink.

His laugh was strangled. “Now stop trying to distract me and show me your tits.”

“I’ve never heard you say tits before.”

“I’ve never heard you say tits either.” The way he said it brought a jolt of need to my belly. How dirty could he be? He was blessed with a voice that could make me do all sorts just to hear it say my name. He licked closer and closer to my nipple, drawing out the tension and groaning as he pleasured me. His hand slipped down to between my legs. It was like our moment in Grand Central but a billion times hotter.

George stroked the inside of my thighs just beneath my pussy. Each moment was a tease that ramped up the anticipation. Maybe it was payback for the years he’d imagined this. Wetness pooled between my legs, but it didn’t make him move any faster.

“Please, George,” I moaned. If anything, it made him move slower.

I looked down and watched the tip of his tongue circle my nipple. Arousal coursed through my blood, pushing me higher. My legs trembled, and a whimper left my mouth, surprising both of us. He smiled up at me, a fire in his eyes before dropping his head back to my breast.

I was drowsy with desire, and when I thought I couldn’t take anymore his thumb slid across my clit, and his lips brushed my nipple. It sent a spark of electricity right back to my pussy. I shoved my fingers through his hair, pulling at the strands as he stroked me higher. He thrust one then two fingers quickly inside me, his mouth never leaving my breasts.

I swore he was learning what made me cry out the loudest as he licked and sucked my breasts and pumped his fingers inside me while thumbing my clit. Maybe pressing all the buttons at the station had improved his dexterity. I squeezed my thighs to make him move faster and wiggled my hips to force his fingers deeper.

He had me close already, it had been building all day, and it wasn’t going to take much more to push me over the edge. Cool air replaced his mouth as my breast slipped from his mouth.

I groaned with displeasure.

The reprimanding look he gave in return sent my pulse racing. I wanted everything he had to give me. I closed my eyes to accept the waves of pleasure from his fingers, but his deep timbre caught my attention.

“I’ve got a lot of fantasies about your body that we need to make real. I’m not going to stop making you cum for hours. I can’t wait to have my tongue inside you,” he said licking his thumb before returning it to run circles around my clit.

He sucked on my nipples and thrust his fingers back inside me, building me higher. The pressure radiated from my pussy and my limbs quivered as I teetered on the edge. As if coaxing me to orgasm he fingered me quicker. The pressure was too much and I threw my head back not wanting the moment to end yet desperate to climax. The noises of my soaking pussy would have freaked me out with Brian, but with George, I loved how dirty and decadent I was. I couldn’t wait to see his come face. There was so much I needed to do with him. The idea of all the different ways we would fuck overwhelmed me.

Did he sense this? Suddenly he pushed deep and bit my nipple. At the intensity of the pleasure and pain, I came on his fingers. I screamed his name as my legs shook around his hand. He held me against him until I was sure I wasn’t going to fall, and then he lifted me and pulled me onto his body. I hadn’t considered this benefit of our height difference; he could take me where he wanted me. I knew I held the power, though. He wouldn’t push me too far, and I was confident enough to speak up if I wanted something different. He was my best friend, and my trust for him overwhelmed me.

“Can you ride me like earlier?” he asked frantically.

With one movement, I yanked down his boxers and palmed his cock.

“You are Big G!” I squealed with a mixture of excitement and nervousness. Would I be able to take all of him?

“I’ll be gentle. Take what you can manage,” George said, reading my mind.

It was the challenge I needed. I was not going to be a precious flower. I’d dreamt about George inside me all week, and I wasn’t going to stop until he was as deep as possible.

I continued to palm him, delighting in the way his face twisted with urgency. He jerked in my hand. This man had wanted me for years, and yet I was the one in control, I’d never felt so much power.

I knew he was clean. He’d insisted on taking me to the sexual health clinic before university started, just in case I got carried away with anyone when drunk. I’d made him take the tests as well in solidarity. I was on the pill for the same reasons.

I reached into his bedside table and took out some fancy lube that I’d never seen before. I took my time in dripping it onto my hand before massaging his cock. It was like silk. His eyes rolled back in his head, and I bit my lip with satisfaction. I wanted to watch him come in my hand and feel him twitch in my mouth. I squeezed around the head of his cock, distracted.

“Grace! I want to be inside you.”

“Sorry.” I smiled as his cock jerked against my palm. He jokingly glared at me, before squeezing his eyes tightly together as if he was undergoing sexual torture. “You ready?” I asked with a wink. He was fun to tease.

He let out a strangled groan in response, and I straddled him. I pumped him one more time before slipping him inside me. The first inches were comfortable, but then I took him gradually further inside me. My hips attempted to grind before I was ready. What was with my body? It was desperate for him.

We panted in unison until finally he was buried deep.

“Sit up,” I demanded.

“But won’t that hurt?”

“Sit the fuck up, George. I want to kiss you. We have spent our lives not kissing, and I want your mouth on mine as you cum inside me.” He didn’t argue again.

I held tightly onto his shoulders as I lifted myself before dropping back down. His skin burnt mine as I rode him hard. His chest chair rubbed and tickled my nipples. I wanted his lips on mine, but the zips of pleasure filling my body as he kissed my chest and neck had me moan as if I was trying to wake the apartment building. I rode him faster as he bit and sucked my neck, leaving his mark on my flesh. My thighs and butt got the best workout as I pumped my legs. He filled me completely, and I knew that he was filling me emotionally too. I didn’t care how soppy it sounded I knew it, and I knew I wanted to be with him beyond some mind-numbing fucks.

I was on the brink of orgasm. I pulled his head to mine and kissed him hard. Our tongues fought for control, as our bodies had battled. The urge to come fought against the need to experience an endless pleasure. I’d only longed for this for a week. He’d wanted this for years. Sweat dripped between our bodies, and as I had hold of his face, he gripped my arse, pulling me onto him again and again.

He squeezed my flesh hinting he was close. I knew my orgasm would rip through me and trigger his. Every thrust of my hips met a push of his pelvis, and soon his cock was hitting me deeper and deeper. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on tight. I kissed him with years of repressed thoughts as if we were eighteen again and dared to kiss in front of our mates.

He released me from the kiss to growl his own needs. “You’re so fucking sexy. I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long, but I never thought it would be this good. I’m so hard, and I just want to come inside you.” He kissed me again, his lips hitting mine before he eased them apart and massaged my tongue with his. I rode him hard, moaning in his mouth as his grip on my butt tightened. I squeezed my thighs and pressed myself against his chest as I bounced faster and faster refusing to break the kiss.

My whole body began to shake and it was as if arousal filled my veins. Suddenly my orgasm obliterated everything. It rushed through me and I pulled him close and cried into his mouth. He came too. His liquid shot inside me. Filling me just as his cock had. I rode it out, pumping softer and softer. I had a lot more planned for us and I didn’t want to break him.

Eventually, we collapsed on the bed, still holding each other tight. We were panting hard, and sweat dripping down our skin.

I whispered in his ear, “I don’t know what the plan is for the next thirty years, but I want to spend the next thirty hours doing that again and again.”

“We will, trust me. Hopefully, we’ll be doing it for the next thirty years too,” George replied breathlessly as he held me tightly.

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Good Vibrations

Woman in a dressing gown. Friend romance.

Don’t forget to read part 1 & 2 of this friends to lovers romance first, you can find them here: Stories

Good Vibrations

Friday lunchtime finally came. I’d made it through my first lectures, and in between downed a sickening amount of shots while partying with housemates. I’d made new friends too. Did I party this hard during my first time at university? There had been a lot of late night’s spent studying in the library and ensuring I followed the plan. Still, I couldn’t remember going out, nor drinking until my head exploded and there definitely weren’t guys pinning me against the wall as their kisses brushed my neck.

I was still horny, and I hadn’t heard from George apart from a couple of messages checking in on me. Although I hadn’t spoken to him on the phone, I’d listened to him every morning in my shower while getting myself off. His deep voice had caressed my skin as water had cascaded down my body. Every word he spoke made me ache between my thighs. My wetness had joined with the soapy water, and I’d stroked my clit as he’d talked about some inane topic or played a random quiz. No matter what he spoke about, his voice reached inside me as I’d moaned his name. Phone sex with him would probably kill me, not that we’d ever do that because we were just friends and couldn’t be more. How many times had I reminded myself of that this week?

I recalled the one kiss we’d had when we were seventeen. We were playing truth or dare, and Erin from our class, who’d never hidden how much she fancied him and was jealous of our closeness had dared us to kiss. I don’t know what she expected, maybe that he couldn’t go through with it because of our friendship? I would have noticed her disappointment, but his tongue was in my mouth. He was never one to ignore a dare. I was knee walking drunk and had followed up the kiss by vomiting on his shoes. We hadn’t repeated our moment after that. His reason being, “I only have two pairs of these trainers, and I don’t want them both ruined.”

There was another problem in my first week of university. My housemate, Jamie, had decided that he was going to bed me. He was attractive for an eighteen-year-old. But that was the problem – he was eighteen. Jamie repeatedly called me MILF. He thought he was cute, but I was ready to punch him or show him how good sex with a grown woman could be.

But then again, did I know?

I’d had some mediocre sex before university and then Brian. He was pleasant enough, and he knew his way around my body. But I’d never screamed. I’d never woken up knowing that I craved another fuck with him. He was as efficient in the bedroom as he was with a spreadsheet; he got the job done, but it was all about finishing, rather than the fun you could have on the way.

Since moving into halls, Jamie was always by my side, especially on our night’s out. Was he waiting for me to give him the nod? He’d be waiting a long time. My body wanted George, and it was getting harder to ignore it. I needed to fuck George out of my system with a random guy, but I didn’t want to become the legendary university MILF to do it, and I didn’t want anyone else anyway. Why was everything so complicated?

During my last lecture of the week; Performance Anxiety and Motivation, I considered the teenage kiss again, or rather George’s inability to say no to a dare.  Should I dare him to go on a night out with my housemates? I could sell it as giving him fodder for his radio show and insight into his target audience.

I quickly tapped out a message to him and waited. His reply came in quick.

George: I’ll be at yours for lunch, and then I expect to have the craziest student night there is.

My face flushed bright enough to draw a furrowed brow from my lecturer. But I styled it out by pretending I’d lost my pen and then holding it aloft as if it was a prize. But how was I going to style out a visit from George? If only it were as simple as pretending I’d lost my pen. There was the other, more significant issue, too. We had a friendship that I couldn’t destroy for something as minor as a good fuck that I might be able to get somewhere else. I had to stop craving George or tonight could be the end of the most important relationship in my life.

What was I going to do?


“The thing is,” Jamie started as he thrust a hand through his quiff, “you’re hot as fuck, and I reckon you could teach me a lot. So what do you think? You could come to my room now if you want.”

I was standing in the communal area of our student apartment in just a fluffy dressing gown and a pair of my best knickers. George was due in the next hour, and I needed the time to make a lot of effort so I could look like someone who’d made none at all. Men had no idea what we women put ourselves through.

Jamie gave me a wink from the other side of the room. His back rested against the wall next to his bedroom door. All the bedrooms opened out onto the communal area I shared with two other females and three males. In the short time since we’d moved in, we’d affectionally named the space Grand Central. People were coming and going all the time. In two weeks, there had been more sex in this apartment than I’d had in the last couple of years with Brian. I’d walked in on a couple of pairs doing it on the edge of the kitchen sink on different afternoons. I was jealous, but not enough to go near Jamie.

“I’m alright, Jamie, but thank you for the offer,” I replied with a polite smile. His eyes lingered on me as I opened the fridge and reached for the bottle of wine I’d picked up after my lecture. I needed alcohol-fuelled courage to get me through today.

Jamie cleared his throat, and with a sigh, I turned back. I’d tried tough love. What else could I do? How many requests did he think it would take to convince me?

“You’ll change your mind. Already I’m one of the most wanted guys on campus. We’ve got a year together in this flat. One night you’re going to come home drunk and horny, there will be a knock at my door, and then we will have passionate sex,” he replied. Was I as confident at his age? I wasn’t even that confident now. There was nothing aggressive in the way he shared his tale of the future. It was more hopeful and had a hint of wistfulness.

“No, there won’t be, Jamie,” I replied sternly.

“Yes, there will be, my lovely MILF,” he smiled. I don’t think he realised how much of a dickhead he sounded. He believed it would happen. I couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t if the level of arousal I was fighting was likely to continue. Imagine if I had come home last week? Thank goodness for George.

“Look there won’t be because, because,” I stuttered at his hopeful face. “Because I have a boyfriend already.”

“And this is the first time you mention it? I don’t believe you. I’ll continue to wait for that knock at my door, my sexy MILF.” He gave me one last smile before heading back into his bedroom.

“He’s coming round in a bit and partying with us tonight,” I shouted to his retreating body.

Why had I wanted to move into halls? I’d wanted to experience university life properly like I’d missed out on the first time. The staff had assured me I would be in an apartment with people nearer my age, but aside from a twenty-six-year-old woman, they were all either eighteen or nineteen.

I unscrewed the wine and took two long swigs, ignoring the nasty sharp taste. It was the cheapest in the off licence.

Maybe I should move, but that would be the whole first-semester rent gone as I’d paid upfront and I’d have to fork out more for somewhere else. There was no point worrying about it now. George was due in an hour. I ticked the jobs off on my finger.

Make-up? Done.

Hair? Done.

But what was I going to wear? I took another swig hoping to clear my hangover and headed back to my room.


I froze in my doorway. That couldn’t be George; he was never early. But I couldn’t risk Jamie getting to him before I did. I daren’t imagine his face if Jamie asked if he was fucking the MILF.

I skidded across the lino to the front door and yanked it open. I swallowed noisily. George was in front of me in his night out best. A checked shirt that clung obscenely to his body, smart jeans and brown brogues brought an internal sigh of delight. He was handsome as well as hot, and my sex clenched immediately with expectation.

His gaze trawled from my head to my toes, pausing momentarily at where my dressing gown gaped at my chest. At the heat from his look, sweat beaded my neck.

“Wine already? Bad morning?” He smiled. I wasn’t sure how, but he immediately conveyed his unusual combination of shy cockiness. I heard it when he was on the radio, and face to face he was the same. George was cocky, and he charmed and amused everyone with his boy next door persona, but he had vulnerabilities too, and in groups of people, he often listened because he wasn’t sure what to say. He understood the impact of mental health struggles and had helped his brother through panic attacks brought on from PTSD. He’d been there for me during my most vulnerable moments; when I’d failed my first accountancy exam, when Brian’s parents had embarrassed me at a family party, and the night I found out my mum was having tests for cancer. I’d loved him like a best friend since I was fourteen, but this urge to have inside me while covering my body with kisses and pushing me to climax was different. Was it new or had it always been there, and I’d learnt to ignore it?

More importantly, how did he feel? Was I just Midge, best friend and like a sister. Everything had changed for me, but that didn’t mean it had for him.

“No. It’s not been a bad one,” I replied flustered, heat burning my cheeks when I remembered George’s question. “I, just, you’re early.”

“Yeah, well, it’s the weekend, isn’t it, and I don’t want to waste time faffing at home. Can I come in?” How was his hair bouncy after wearing headphones all morning? I wanted to touch it and run my hands through the strands, but friends didn’t do that. Instead, I beckoned him in and headed for the kettle. He always had a cup of tea around this time. It helped ease his energy after the rush from presenting his morning radio show. “Did I catch you doing something?”

I flushed again, grateful that with my back to him, he couldn’t see the guilty look on my face. I’d listened back to his show while playing with myself in the shower. It had been a great way to ring in my first proper weekend as a student, even if it left me with some conflicted feelings now that he was close.

“Just getting ready,” I replied with forced breeziness, relieved at how long it was taking the kettle to boil. The bubbles and sighs suggested it needed replacing, but I’d realised early on that risking a fire for the price of a kettle was what being a student was all about.  

“What’s the plan for tonight?” George asked. The springs pinged from the direction of the sofa. I didn’t need to turn to know he’d sat on it. His hands probably rested at his knees. I wanted those hands on me, fisting through my hair as he kissed me. I imagined his body towering over mine in bed as his tongue slipped into my mouth. Would we fit together easily? He was nearly a foot and a half taller than me. ‘You’re the same height when you’re lying down’. I’d heard that once, but from who? My thoughts were a distracting jumble of ideas. “Grace. You okay?”

“Huh?” My unrelenting arousal was getting ridiculous. George was my friend, and that was all that mattered. I faked a smile and turned to face him. “Oh yes, a plan for tonight.”

Lots of things happened at once. Jamie’s door squeaked as the wine reacted with my empty stomach. The scream of the kettle sent me into a panic. Were they the catalyst for my desires or an excuse to kiss my friend? In a flash, I straddled George’s thighs. “You need to pretend to be my boyfriend.”

I made the most of his open mouth and kissed him as if my life depended on it. His mouth paused against mine, but any hesitation was brief as his hands stroked my naked thighs beneath my dressing gown. His kiss was hard and fast. I was hungry for him, and my moan echoed between us. His hands climbed higher as I started to grind against him. His cock swelled beneath me. The roughness of his jeans against my barely covered pussy was heavenly friction, and I twisted my hips harder.

A slam came from the direction of Jamie’s door, but we didn’t stop. His tongue massaged mine as he reached around and grabbed my butt cheeks. His fingers dug into my flesh as he pulled me against him. His cock may have been constricted by his jeans, but it rubbed against my clit in a way that had me desperate for more. Shit, I was kissing my best friend, and I wanted him to fuck me.

I pulled back needing to get my breath and my head together.

We sat panting, staring at each other as doors banged and mixtures of Drake and The Weekend played around us. I brushed my thumb across his lower lip while staring into his grey eyes. It was as if they were sparkling. It was the sexiest kiss of my life. I wanted more, but was he playing the part of my boyfriend as I’d asked? His cock was rock hard beneath me, but that couldn’t tell me what was in his heart.

“Well, that happened,” he finally said.

“And?” I said softly, desperately trying to keep hope out of my voice. But my body betrayed me, and I slipped my hand into his hair and ran my fingers through it. The scent of grapefruit seemed to settle between us. I touched his hair again and smiled. Now that I’d finally crossed a barrier, I couldn’t leave him alone.

He squeezed my arse cheek before moving his hands back to my thighs, beneath my dressing gown. His hands were hot against my flesh.

I knew everything there was to know about George and yet sat on the threadbare sofa his thumbs stroking my inner thighs I couldn’t work out what he’d say next. It could be a “we shouldn’t ruin our friendship”, “I don’t like you that way” or “take me to your bedroom” with anything else in between.

“And,” he replied the side of his mouth lifting in a half-smile.

The guy who made a living through his voice had gone quiet. The dirty beat of the music around us pounded through my veins. His thumbs stroked higher. It was a matter of moments before he realised how wet he’d made me.

He stopped short of my knickers. “And I don’t know why you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend as there is no one to pretend to, we’re all alone.”

My mouth had gone dry waiting for the thoughts behind his gaze.

“But I suppose someone could walk in,” he said with a gravelly voice. I clenched my thighs at the thought of someone catching us. The public kiss had been a way to convince Jamie I was out of bounds, but now it had become a game.

“Oh, you like the idea of that, Grace?” He laughed in a voice so deep that I pushed my pelvis forward, rubbing softly against him. “I don’t know what is going on with you and right now I don’t care. I want this.”

With his eyes fixed on mine almost as if he was asking for consent, he slipped his finger through the belt on my dressing gown and pulled. The more undone my belt became, the more sensual his smile. Every movement he made was slow and considered and what could have been a quickie in Grand Central was torture. My heart thumped hard as if every sense was on high alert. I swallowed noisily as the belt came undone and fell to my sides. Even with all we had done this felt like the precipice. If someone walked into Grand Central now, we’d stop and probably never talk about it again. With one move, I would be nearly naked in front of him. But was he willing to take that step and change everything? I licked my lips and squeezed my thighs in an attempt to will him further.

“I want this, George.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving my eyes, reached up and pushed my soft robe apart. I sat in his lap, my body on display for him. I wanted to moan, yet we’d barely done anything. I ached for his touch.

He was my best friend, and my fantasy.

His gaze dropped down, and he stared in awe at my body. Brazenly I lifted my chest and presented myself to him. My nipples were pert, and my chest flushed. “Fucking hell, Grace. You’re gorgeous,” he said with a gravelly voice. I’d never felt alluring before, but with him, I was a vixen.

Anyone could walk in on us, and I didn’t care. I’d do anything for George to fuck my brains out on this tatty sofa. He dipped his head, never breaking eye contact until his lips covered my nipple. I hissed with pleasure as he sucked and bit at the sensitive flesh. I made soft circular movements with my pelvis against his jeans, trying to get more satisfaction to my pussy.

“Please, more,” I moaned as he lavished my breast with his mouth. Wetness pooled in my knickers as he ran his fingertips down my legs. His nails were sharp against my skin, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to stop crying out.

Even behind my hand, a “oh” of pleasure fell from between my lips. Suddenly George’s hands were everywhere; one massaged the breast that was missing out on his mouth while the other was between my legs. It stroked closer to my pussy. I held it fast scared he might take it away. It was so close to touching me where I needed it.

He leant back to watch me as his thumb brushed my clit on top of my knickers. Before I could respond with more pleading a familiar melody filtered through to my conscious.

It was the ringtone he used for work.

No, please, no.

He paused. I couldn’t blame him. I knew how important his job was to him. His boss rarely called unless it was significant.

“It’s okay, you can answer it,” I said softly, trying to convey that I wasn’t annoyed. Sexually frustrated, but not annoyed.

His features twisted as if he couldn’t decide what to do next. “I’ll leave it,” he said as the tune stopped. “See, all sorted.”

The melody started again. It had to be a serious call.

“It’s okay, really,” I replied with a peck on his lips.

He fished through his pocket as I stood back up and took extra care in retying my dressing gown. I didn’t dare look at him. Maybe he had regrets for the line we’d crossed or perhaps he wasn’t thinking about me at all.

I pretended to tidy up the kitchen, but all I was doing was picking things up and putting them back down again in the same place. I caught George’s end of the conversation, but it gave me no hints to what was happening.

My body hadn’t got the message that playtime was over. My knickers were soaked, and my heart ached as hard as my pussy.

“Bye, boss. I’ll see you soon,” he finished the call.

Don’t drop your shoulders. Don’t you dare look sad, Grace.

I turned to face him, hoping to see some of my disappointment on his face, but he was smiling so hard it would have been infectious if it hadn’t hurt so much.

“They want me to interview Adele. It’s the first interview she’s done in years, and she wanted me! She’s only in town for the next two hours, so it’s now or never,” he beamed as he tidied his hair and pulled his shirt back down. He was gorgeous, and I hated myself for wanting him to stay even though he was about to do the most significant interview of his career.

“I’m so happy for you,” I replied breezily. I looked down to his crotch that hinted at what we’d been up to. “I think I’ve left a wet spot on your, umm, jeans.”

He looked down and back up, and I saw a hint of arousal and conflict in his eyes. It was the only sign that what was affecting me had got to him too. “It’s okay. I’ll get my boss to bring a spare pair to the interview.”

He headed to the door, pausing for a second. “I’ll be in touch as soon as I can be. I’ve got to go and prep. See you, Grace.”

The door slammed, and I was left horny, sad and ready to guzzle the rest of my wine before my night out. Would I hear from him again and if so would it be like nothing had happened between us? What if the sexiest moment in my life was already his biggest mistake?


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Last Night a DJ Saved My Life

Grace wakes up in the home of her favourite radio presenter.

Don’t forget to read part 1 first, you can find it here: Part 1

Last Night a DJ Saved My Life

The bang of a door dragged me from my sleep.

“Oh, God, no,” I grunted. It was like a gang of bikers swinging metal chains were at a rock concert inside my head. I tried to swallow, but my tongue was thick and dry against the roof of my mouth. Please, I need water. Maybe Brian had done the thing he never did and left me a glass.

Suddenly everything came rushing back to me. There was no Brian in my life or job or apartment. Where am I? Had I gone home with the Aussie barman? No, he was gay, I think. I had propositioned him, though. I rubbed my face with my palms. Did I return to university and sleep with an eighteen-year-old? I’d never live it down. Oh shit, they’re going to call me a cougar, or worse. I groaned louder.

Slowly I opened my eyes, scared where I’d find myself in. Crisp cotton bedding that was as soft as a cloud on my hanging head and blinds that hid a window stretching from the ceiling to the floor made me gasp. I was in George’s bed. A safe space. When we were younger, I used to sleep next to him at all the parties, and we were always platonic. But we weren’t young anymore. I eyed the space next to me, but it was untouched. Where had he slept?

On top of the round bedside table was two full glasses of water and paracetamol. George knew me too well. I gulped down the pills and both drinks before flopping my head back on the pillow. I pulled the duvet up to my nose and breathed in the mixture of vanilla and grapefruit. He always smelt so good. Even his scent on the bedding made my headache better.

Snippets of last night returned like a haunting. I’d propositioned the barman and asked George if I could see his cock. For fuck’s sake. I buried my head beneath the covers.

A soft knock came from the door. What time was it? Lectures started today, and uni was a train ride away. I tried to distinguish outside noises to give me a hint at what time of day it might be, but his windows muffled the sounds of London. How many women had slept in this bed, waking up to his warm body beside them? Did he wake them by stroking between their legs and caressing them gently or did he pin their hands above them and lick down their bodies before thrusting inside them? My body seared as he knocked again. Fantasies about your best friend weren’t allowed.

“Come in,” I replied sheepishly from underneath the duvet.

“Only if you’re decent,” he replied. I pulled the duvet back to see what I was wearing. Shit. When did I take my dress off? It had to be in the night. I wouldn’t have done it in front of George. We’d had some boundaries even when we were younger. So why can’t you remember what you did? And why are you hoping he removed it?

I hid back under the duvet now desperate for answers.

“I’ve hidden my decency for now, but I’m going to need answers. Come in.” He strode straight to the windows and pulled back the curtains. Daylight forced its way inside the bedroom, and I sunk deeper into the bed.

“Not feeling your best?” he smirked as the sunshine burnt my retinas.

I peaked out from beneath the duvet and marvelled how good he looked in comparison to my slummy self. His long-sleeved baseball shirt was tight enough to remind me that I’d touched his solid pecs the night before. My gaze travelled down to his jeans that hinted at the package beneath. Oh shit, I talked about his cock. Did I dream about it too?

Why did he have to have such a sexy voice? My colleagues had often talked about his sexy voice. I’d noticed it, but now I wanted him to whisper filthy things in my ear as he pushed inside me. I couldn’t stop staring at his package. Did it move when I was staring at it? Why do I suddenly care about his cock now? Maybe it was because I was dealing with a long term build-up of hornyness or because I was around students who never stopped fucking.  I remembered again the way George said dick. I needed to get laid as soon as possible and not by my best friend.

“Finished staring?” My eyes flipped to his, and I was relieved to find them crinkled in amusement. “What’s going on with you, Grace?”

I paused and took another breath, filling myself with his scent. That only made things worse. I should leave as quickly and politely as possible.

“I think that breaking up with Brian and then surrounding myself with students who shag like rabbits has made me horny as fuck,” I confessed. Don’t stare at his dick again. But it drew me in, and my gaze flicked that way. His package twitched. It definitely twitched that time!

“You told me all about your hornyness last night. I thought that was you in drunk mode.” He sat on the edge of the bed. Was he trying to hide his cock from me by sitting down? Had I stared that much? Nah, we were friends. Midge and Big G. Oh shit, now I’m thinking about his Big G again. “Especially when you tried to barter with me so that you could see my dick.”

“What?” I covered my face in shame and also because he’d repeated the word dick. The heat was coursing through my body.

He eased the duvet back so he could see my face. His grey eyes were dancing. Was I still drunk? Eyes don’t dance. They seemed to sparkle like never before. “You told me that I could undress you if I showed you my, and I’m quoting here, ‘massive, panty-dropping cock’.”

The heat was now between my legs, and I didn’t want it to go. Even with a hangover, I felt alive like never before. My stomach flipped, and my pussy pulsed. I had missed out on so much with Brian, but I didn’t want George really, I couldn’t. But I had to admit that a big part of me, and not just the part that was wet and aching, did.

Why did his voice have to be so deep and seductive? I knew it was his job to entertain millions with his voice as a radio presenter, but this was me trying to hold on to any dignity I still had.

“And did you undress me?” The idea excited me. My heart rose as I imagined his finger slipping inside my dress and undoing the knot that kept the material together. Was his skin against mine as he lifted the hem and cupped my bum. Did he squeeze it briefly to see my reaction? I wanted his hands pushing the material off my shoulders and revealing my breasts hidden by the thin lace material of my bra. I fought the pull to squirm against my knickers.

I fixed him with a gaze. Humour left the room. Why had we never got together? In sixth form he was too busy screwing anything, teachers included, but never me. It was like our friendship was the most important thing to both of us, and we didn’t want to risk it. Then at university, I met Brian, and that was that. But I’d never been attracted to George before, had I?

“Did you undress me, George?” Please say yes. Maybe I’m still drunk because this isn’t me.

“No. I let you do that once I’d left the room. I needed my sleep for work,” he said quietly. His emotion was indistinguishable. I was too old to be having these feelings about my best mate. He was one of the few friends I had, and I couldn’t risk that.

“Phew.” I forced out my laugh. “You weren’t late for work, were you?”

As one of the best radio presenters in London, I knew nothing mattered more to George than his job. He’d reached his dream of being a breakfast radio presenter a couple of years earlier. It was the most coveted show. Only the best got to be breakfast hosts, and he was undoubtedly the best. The only problem was the way it fucked with his life. That was his other reason for hook-ups. Breakfast presenters were famous for being too exhausted for proper relationships. He was up every weekday morning before sunrise. He got invites to the best parties but was too tired to attend them.

“No, I was fine. I did tell my millions of listeners about my night and how my best friend was propositioning me.”

I sat up straight. “Please no, tell you me you didn’t.”

His gaze dropped down. The duvet had fallen, and my bra was showing. In the old days, it would have meant nothing, but there was heat in his eyes. His gaze seared my skin, and I licked my lips in anticipation, holding my sigh tightly. Something had changed between us and I wanted more. My nipples hardened, and he looked at my face before rubbing his hand across the stubble on his chin. What would that stubble feel like between my legs? I wanted him to scratch my thighs as he licked my pussy. I ached at the possibility of his soft lips against my nipples.

The ticking clock brought me to my senses. “Hold on, if you’re just getting home, that means it’s nearly lunchtime.” I jumped up; my blushes already forgotten.

It was Monday, and I had my first lecture in a couple of hours. I couldn’t miss that.

George was silent as I ran around the room. He stared between my legs. I dragged my dress from the floor and briefly glanced in the mirror to see what had caught George’s attention. The pink lace of my knickers was darker at my pussy. Was I that wet? Had George made me wet before?

I threw the dress on and shoved my fingers through my hair as I attempted to detangle the knots. Where were my purse and shoes? George remained frozen on the bed, his legs wide. He watched everything I did with raised eyebrows. I didn’t have time to worry about it, although it would consume me later.

“I guess I’m going to do the walk of shame,” I joked giving one last look to his parted lips as I dashed out the door.

“You wish,” he called back although it seemed like he was on a delay. He was right, though. I wished it more than I wished I had time to get to my halls before the lecture. I wanted to stay in that bed and scream louder than any of his conquests had before. The reality would struggle to live up to my fantasies, but I wanted to give reality a chance and find out for myself.

What the fuck was going on?

His Scent Lingers

“No, you tidy the house. I’ve got to go and buy food for dinner, which I expect I will be making again,” I shout as I slam our front door.

Is this what love means? Unreasonable levels of patience just to get through the day. It’s his friends, Harry and Chris, who are visiting and yet I’m doing all the work. My heels clack against the concrete as I storm down the steps.

It’s not enough that I’ve been to work and back by bus. No one gets the bus in my village except Herbert with the false teeth that fall out every time the bus goes around a corner. It’s like the movie Speed, but with the threat of getting slapped across the face by a pair of gnashers. Then there’s the Karen who I overheard on the phone this morning. She loudly told the caller about her latest wax appointment. Apparently the hair round her “vag”, her words, was as stubborn as her orgasm the other night. She used every toy known to man, including “the one that does both my holes” and still couldn’t get there. What with Herbert and Karen on both my journeys I should be horizontal in a hot bath with a large glass of something red right now.

But we promised Harry and Chris dinner so here I am.

I reach for the handle and offer a silent prayer to no one in particular. He promised he fixed my car today and that was why he hasn’t cooked dinner. If it’s still making that rattling noise I’ll be sneering through a night of social platitudes.

I yank open the door and suddenly I’m hit with his scent. A musky vanilla saturates the inside. With a deep breath I fill my lungs with him. I can taste him on my tongue. My anger flows out of my body and is replaced with something that makes my pulse race. I shiver as my skin tingles. The effect is immediate and so quick it nearly floors me.

Sliding into the driver’s seat I get highlights of our times together. His lips brushing against my neck, his fingertips grazing my inner thighs. Flashes of him tease me as notes of sandalwood and vanilla climb into body easing any remaining tightness in my shoulders. I swallow loudly as I recall the last time we were together; his naked body beneath me as I straddled in him in bed. He’s the perfect stress reliever.

He must have been working on my car all day, maybe he was inside it immediately after his shower. A wisp of memory fools me into thinking he’s sitting beside me. I turn to the passenger seat, but he’s not there. My car radiates with his presence. I start the engine and drive slowly down the road, my thoughts a blur as I head towards the shops.

I regret saying goodbye without kissing him hard enough to leave him thinking of me and what we might do when his friends leave. Why didn’t I stroke him slowly over his jeans or run my hands under his t-shirt? He’s been training a lot recently in preparation for a 10k. His body is tight enough to kiss each ab. The reminder of his endurance when he had me bent over his desk last week sends shivers down my spine.

A trickle of sweat runs down my chest when I remember his hands gripping my hips as he thrust inside me, but I don’t want to open the window to cool down. The air doesn’t deserve the heady smells fanning my lust. The scent of him fuels fantasies of going down on him as he pulls into a layby. His cock in my mouth as the lights from other cars flash by us, strangers oblivious to the agonising need in his eyes as he cums in my mouth.

I slam on my brakes, grateful that no one is behind me. Scrolling through my console I find the name he used when he put his number in my phone a couple of years ago. We met in a club, both of us merry. The number for Sexy Lobster starts ringing and I bite back a smile. The only thing sexy about his lobster costume that night was the body beneath it.

“What now?” he says gruffly, his voice on speaker throughout my car.

“I’m picking you up, meet me outside the house,” I respond without hint of my plans. “I need you in the car with me.”

“It can’t still be broken. There was no noise when I tested it,” he replies, mistaking the reason for my call. “It was the air con. I fixed it.”

I hang up without revealing my intentions.

Without delay I reverse back up the street. I stop so suddenly outside the house that my seatbelt yanks me into my seat. Impatiently I honk the horn.

He strides out, his brows furrowed. I breathe deeply again as he saunters towards the car. He’s only wearing jeans and a t-shirt and yet I’m salivating at the sight of my sexy lobster. I wriggle in my seat, my knickers tight against me reminding me how much I want him inside me. He rolls his eyes when I nod towards the passenger door. Knowing he’s annoyed turns me on more. I want him frustrated and taking me hard.

Thank god I wearing a floaty dress. I had no idea how easy it would make my evening adventure. The soft cotton rests against my naked thighs and I part them slowly while offering him a smile.

He sits down and slams my door. “What-”

I’m kissing him hard before he finishes his question. It’s barely a beat before he responds.  His hands fist my hair as my tongue parts his lips. I’m pulling at his t-shirt desperately dragging him closer. A moan vibrates the back of my throat and my thighs tremble against the leather seat. The gearstick bars my access to him.

Suddenly I pull back. He’s panting hard and his eyes are wide. The last time I caught him wild like this it was at his parent’s house and I surprised him coming out the bathroom. We had sex on the edge of the cabinet while everyone was downstairs playing Christmas games. His brother winked at us when we returned, and the wild look remained on my sexy lobster’s face all night.

I breathe in the lingering smell on his neck. It’s the same smell as the car, but at his natural musk combined with it my guttural moan is released.

“I want you inside me,” I whisper in his ear slipping my hand to his crotch.

His cock twitches against my hand and he licks his lip with the tip of his tongue. “Let’s go inside.”

“No, I want you in the car,” I reply reaching for his hand and sliding it up my thigh. “But not here. I know the best place. Are you up for it?”

I continue to slide his hand higher until it’s against the wetness that has seeped through my knickers. At his barest touch I whimper.

“Fuck yes,” he replies as he dips his hand inside my knickers. “But I get to do what I want with you.”

He fingers me gently, no doubt aware of our neighbour’s security cameras. Will any of them watch it back and enjoy what we’re doing? I’d love to give them a show one night, maybe next time.

His finger moves deeper. “Poppy, I get to do what I want,” he says again adding his thumb to stroke my clit. I can’t deny him anything when he rubs me there, not that I would deny him. His skills, especially with my body, are never ending.

I nod as he takes his finger out and pops it in his mouth. He sucks it hard before pulling it out with a pop. My heart thumps in my chest.

“Come on then, let’s get going. By the way, Harry and Chris cancelled as you left. We have all night.” His grin is broad as he secures his seatbelt.

His musky vanilla scent is everywhere as I speed back down the road.