His longest finger traced her wet and delicate folds, before spreading her soaking flap. Damon slipped three fingers inside her, then started thrusting them in and out, edging ever closer to her deepest center.
Kirsty moaned, arched her back, and lost herself in a sharp ache that started at her slit, then shivered along her arm hairs before nesting at the base of her neck. She cried again as Damon dipped lower and pressed his thumb tentatively against her tiny, puckered hole. The sudden, unexpected pleasure ripped the morning’s first orgasm from her body. Kirsty screamed as his fingers curled harder against her mound, plunging her on repeat.
His mouth was all over and her knees were in the air. Damon entered her, a massive groan escaping his lips. Kirsty was ready almost before she started, and the speed of her second orgasm was shocking, orbiting her core just seconds from entry, sending a white hot heat soaring through her body, from her toes, past her tits, then up to the tips of her ears.
That was it for Damon, too. His shaft shuddered and spasmed, sending one jolt of cum after another into her quickly filling fuckhole as he screamed her name and she agreed with a deafening series of yeses.
After three years, sex with Damon was still amazing. But Kirsty was angry with him, which was why she had been thinking about Gerald the entire time – the new guy at the office who had mistaken her for a whore the Friday before starting his six-month consulting gig, working alongside her at Miller & Hodge.
Damon had been “working late,” for far too long. Obviously cheating on her, there was no doubt in Kirsty’s mind, which made it easy to say yes to $200 and four minutes of fun. She had never had sex with Gerald, and doubted she ever would, but she had blown him twice and loved each second and every drop of spooge.
Things were getting complicated at the office since the mere sight of him sent Kirsty into a soaking wet tizzy. She had to get shit under control, and would. But for now, thinking of Gerald while fucking Damon was a reasonable way to deal with her sudden, unexpected infatuation.
“That was amazing,” Damon said.
“You mean you’re not bored of me yet?” The question was only half sarcastic. If Damon was getting pussy outside the house, she couldn’t have been that amazing. Not that she had a leg to stand on, she was cheating on him with her new co-worker after all. Kirsty never bought Clinton’s assertion that oral sex wasn’t really sex. It was. She had swallowed and liked it.
Now she had a secret, just like he did.
“Of course not,” he said. “I love you.”
A strong, sudden silence hung like a fog in the air as morning light bled through the open window and turned Kirsty suddenly uncomfortable. Damon rolled toward her, stroking his fingers under her chin, up along her face, then around her ear until he was kneading her bottom lobe between his thumb and pointer.
Damon added, “I could never get tired of you.”
It was a cool blade slipping into her conscience. “You mean that?” She said.
“Absolutely.” There was another long silence, then, “I have something to tell you.”
Oh great, here it comes.
Now she would finally find out what the bastard had been doing. And it looked like it was going to be a game of I’ll tell you if you tell me. Maybe he suspected what she’d been up to. Of course, unless he had her office bugged, knew Gerald, or had had a recent conversation with Celeste where she spilled everything she never would, Damon couldn’t know for sure. That didn’t mean that he didn’t have some idea that something was wrong.
“You know how I’ve been working late?”
Of course she did. She even called Bistro on the Spit several times on nights he said he was working late, just to confirm. But he hadn’t been at the restaurant once.
“Well, I wasn’t really working, at least not at the Bistro.”
No shit, Sherlock.
“I started a small business,” he said, a smile taking over his face. “I’ve been making full menu plans, complete with the food, for the rich ladies who live over an Dalton Park. I’m charging $300 a week for breakfast lunch and dinner, which they are thrilled to pay. I never spend more than $100. Business has exploded. I’m only telling you now because I can’t keep up. I have to hire somebody, and I’m leaving Bistro.”
Damon’s news had stolen her tongue and tangled her thoughts. He turned toward her, took her hands in his, and his face lit with an electric smile.
“I did it, baby. We have enough for a down payment on our dream house, the little one over in Ferrell Cove. That’s where I’ve been working nights. I just didn’t want to tell you until I had enough saved, or until I had to grow the business. As of yesterday, I have to do both.”
Damon must have mistaken the look in Kirsty’s eye for something other than guilt. He started apologizing. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, and I know you don’t want to get married yet, or at all. That’s okay. We don’t have to ever get married, if you don’t want. But I want to be with you, and I want you to have the house you want, and in the neighborhood you want it.”
I’m a monster.
While Damon had been out working late nights and weekends preparing for their future, she’d gone out and blown a coworker, twice, collecting $200 for the pleasure.
She was a monster. While Damon had done nothing but love her and gift her with dreams she’d whispered while drifting to sleep so many times, she made excuses to engage in the indefensible. He had done something she would never forget, she had done something he might never forgive.
“I love you,” she said. And because there was no way to show Damon how much she really did love him, and how sorry she truly was without blowing her load of lies, she placed her hand on his already spent cock and started stroking it back to life.
She would swallow her secret, along with Damon’s second load of the morning.
“You’re going to be late,” he said.
“They’ll get by without me.” She took his cock into her mouth, the blood already rushing to fatten it.
“Mmmmm….that feels amazing,” he said, as Kirsty bobbed her head faster and faster, giving Damon’s dick all of her lips and tongue, holding nothing back, the slopping sounds of sucking sweetening their morning air.
Kirsty would have given the world to be thinking of Damon rather than Gerald, but her thoughts were insidious and held court in her mind. She imagined taking her co-worker in his Escalade, swallowing every bit of what he had to give. All the better for Damon.
Her mouth moved up and down with a fevered purpose, covering his cock in a coat of saliva, flooding her pussy as she hummed a slew of mews and whimpers.
In the old days, Damon used to like to cum all over her, but that had changed. Now he almost always liked to cum inside her pussy, though she had no idea if that was out of respect or desire.
“Where do you want to cum?” Kirsty moaned.
The question pulled a deep groan from Damon. His hand moved to the back of her head. His fingers curled inside her hair and his body went rigid. The first warm shot landed in her mouth, but then he pulled himself free in time to see the second shot splash across the bridge of her nose. He held himself steady for the second stream, which hit her cheek and drizzled down her chin. Kirsty slapped his hand from the base and took his cock while it was still shooting so she could catch the final two shots in her mouth.
Once his breathing relaxed, Damon said, “That was truly, truly amazing. Amazing squared, actually, seeing as how it was two times in one morning, and one of them was half in your mouth and half on your face and was out in minutes. We haven’t done it like that in a while.” He laughed. “Remember that time you blew me in the alley? That was so fucking hot. I think about it all the time.”
“Yeah,” Damon said. “Really. All the time.”
“You better get going. You’re going to be late.”
Kirsty stood from bed, wiping cum from her face as she headed toward the shower. Halfway there, Damon said, “So how are things with the new guy? Easy? Hard? Is he a dick? Nice guy?”
“A little of all of that,” Kirsty said. Already at the bathroom, she returned to the bed, kissed Damon on the mouth, then said, “You are a wonderful, wonderful, man. And I am so lucky to have you. We’ll talk more when I get home. In the meantime, think supremely nasty thoughts about me all day so you can cover me in your famous cream sauce after dinner. I think I’ve milked you dry for now.” She smiled.
“That you did,” Damon agreed.
Kirsty turned the shower to scalding, then sent herself into another orgasm. The morning had given her several, but she was primed. Hot water at her back and swollen lips between her legs put an orgasm a short rub off.
Kirsty lathered her tits, then went to town to her twat, rubbing nub until ripples of ecstasy shot through her body, driving her toward a pounding orgasm. Heat flooded her box until she went rigid and trembling. She tried not to make any sounds since she didn’t want Damon to feel like he hadn’t done enough, when Lord knew he had and then some.
She stepped from the shower, toweled herself dry, hydrated her body at twice her usual speed, then went to get dressed. Damon was in their walk-in, handing her a pink pair of panties with a white laced edge.
“Will you wear these?”
“Sure,” Kirsty said, taking them from the hook of his fingers.
“So what’s on your plate today? Any cool campaigns?”
“Not really,” Insight Toys has a new product called Punchy Bear. They think it’s going to be big. I’m not so sure.”
“Yeah, it’s a stuffed animal you can punch. Not sure who the market is, angry parents or angry kids, but the whole thing seems like a mess. I figure we’re a half-campaign away from angry parent protestors, PETA, or both.”
“Can’t you advise them against it?”
Kirsty shook her head. “No one at M&H is going to do that. Insight believes in their product and they’re throwing millions of dollars at the campaign. If they want a Punchy Bear commercial, they’re going to get a Punchy Bear commercial. I’ll get run around on this, then they’ll pass it to Jay.” Kirsty frowned in the mirror. “I look like shit, but fuck, I can’t be late.”
“You look great,” Damon said, then added, “and I’m sorry.”
She smiled. “You’ve nothing to be sorry about. I’m the one who should be sorry.”
She looked down. “I thought you might be cheating on me.” As soon as the word me left her lips, Kirsty’s voice cracked. She started to cry.
“Honey!” Damon said, pulling her close. “Don’t cry! I understand why you thought that. I probably would’ve thought the same thing. I’m sorry for being so distant and secretive. That probably wasn’t right. But I really wanted to keep things secret until they were far enough along. Maybe I should have told you a while ago, but I was so close to having enough for the payment, well, I just really wanted to get there first, you know?”
Kirsty nodded. “How long has this taken you?”
“Four months, one week and three days.” he smiled.
Kirsty wanted to die. She planted a long kiss on Damon’s cheek. “I don’t deserve you.”
“Yes you do. You deserve more.”
She shook her head. “I can’t wait to get home. We’ll have a great dinner, okay? Whatever you want.”
He laughed. “I know. I’ll be cooking it.”
It was true. Kirsty wasn’t sure when she’d cooked last, probably a month. She gave Damon a final kiss as he handed her a banana and a cup of coffee. She turned and walked out the door.
Though she knew she couldn’t do anything to make it fade all the way, Kirsty figured calling Celeste would make things a pube or two better. She fastened her safety belt, then said, “Call Celeste.”
“Whatup Sister Fister?” Celeste said on the second ring.
“I hate it when you call me that.”
“No you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” Kirsty insisted. “Now shut up, I need to talk to you.”
“What the fuck?” Celeste said. “You only call me now when you have an emergency? What happened now? Some guy make a mistake and think you were the lead in White Collar Bukake VII and cum all over your face?” Celeste laughed. “And what makes you think I don’t have to talk to you first. Big things happening at the Sinclair house. I was gonna call you this morning anyway.”
“There are always big things happening in and all around you, Celeste. At all times.”
“Not like that,” she said. “I can tell you mine later. You go first. You sound frazzled to fuck all.”
“Damon’s not cheating.”
“Sure,” Celeste said. “Everyone is cheating. That’s how marriage is done these days.”
“We’re not married.”
“He’s still cheating.”
“No, Celeste, I’m serious. This is a really big deal. He’s started a diet plan company for rich bitches up in Dalton. No shit, he’s made like 20K.”
“What? He’s made twenty grand? In how long?”
“Four months, and I’m not sure it was twenty grand, but that’s my guess. We have 30 saved, and the house we want needs a downpayment of 50. He said we had enough.”
Celeste laughed maniacally into the phone. “Wow,” she said. “Just. Wow. What are you going to do, you slut. Are you going to tell him?”
“I don’t know what I’m going to do. And I’m not a slut!”
“Are you over Señor SwallowME at the office yet?”
“Don’t call him that, and I’m not sure I was ever under him. But no. He’s pretty much all I was thinking about while getting smothered and covered this morning. Both times.”
Celeste whistled. “Wow, a couple of pickles no matter which way you look at it. But you do like pickles, right?”
“I’m going to hang up on you.”
“No you won’t,” Celeste said. “Besides, you haven’t even heard my news yet.”
They spoke a few more minutes, first with Kirsty finishing her story and next with Celeste giving advice to, “Make sure to collect the cash if you can’t keep Señor SwallowME’s dick from the inside of your mouth!” The rest of the conversation was spent on Celeste spilling everything that had happened with her and Rick, or at least her side of the story. Apparently, Rick had a secret of his own, but Celeste wanted to tell Kirsty while they were “face to face and sitting down.” Kirsty could only imagine. Celeste finished by telling Kirsty about the Pink Triangle, along with a faux offer to join.
“No thinks, I think I’ll stay in marketing. It’s the sort of whoring I prefer.”
“But you have direct experience with this!” Celeste laughed.
Kirsty had already warned her, so she killed the call without a word. She pulled into the parking garage of Miller & Hodge, then passed the gargoyles and headed to her office upstairs. She said hello to Abby, then closed her office door.
She was alone for a total of five minutes before one of the firm’s partners, Mark, entered her office. “We’ve got a problem,” he said.
He looked serious enough to make Kirsty sweat. She prayed it had nothing to do with Gerald. Not that she thought he would spill anything more than his load, but he and Mark seemed like they were getting awfully chummy. She said, “What’s up?”
Mark ran his hand through his hair and said, “Some big-time parenting group has a problem with Punchy Bear. They’re going to protest whatever we put out. We can’t sit on the the two million, but we need to do something with Punchy Bear that doesn’t promote violence.”
“But the toy is called Punchy Bear,” Kirsty shook her head. “Have you talked to Creative?”
“Yeah,” Mark said. “Everyone is on alert. I don’t need you to do anything except be aware, for now.”
“Okay,” Kirsty said, “thanks.”
Mark left her office. She had wanted to be alone, but was grateful for the distraction. Without it, her mind immediately had space to conjure Gerald. She wondered where he was and how close he might be, then wondered if she could manage to make it through the day without having to see him.
Not a chance.
It was maybe 10 minutes before Gerald sauntered into her office, strolled to her desk, then leaned against it. His smile was a wet tongue on her cunt. She hated herself for getting hot, and hated him more for what she knew he was going to say.
Gerald folded his arms and said it again, this time in a whisper, “I need you to suck me off NOW. How much will that cost?”