Gracefully Aroused: The Best of K D Grace Page 5

  And he was suddenly an exhibitionist in a way he could have never imagined himself – him always so conservative, always so buttoned down. He pumped hard against his hand, imagining her pussy tightening around him, imagining the slick grip of her. He shoved his trousers down over his hips until his bare arse rubbed and slid against leather.

  ‘You’re full, aren’t you, Alan?’ Her voice was becoming more breathless. ‘It arouses you what you’re about to do in that conference room, doesn’t it? Your balls ache with the weight of it, the anticipation of it. But you can’t go in there like this. You can’t think with your cock. So now’s the time to take care of it, then you’ll go in relaxed and ready. You’re almost there, I can tell. Come for me, Alan. Empty your balls for me, and it’ll be so good, I promise.’

  And just when he was about to burst, she moved next to him and caught his wad in a soft cotton handkerchief, gently wiping and stroking him clean while he struggled to catch his breath.

  ‘There, now. That’s so much better, isn’t it? You came so good. And now –’ she folded the handkerchief carefully and stuck it in the pocket of her jacket, giving him just a glimpse of bare breast as she did so ‘– you’re all set.’

  The meeting had been a complete success followed by dinner and drinks to celebrate. It was only after everyone had been safely tucked in taxis and sent home mildly but happily drunk that Alan realised he’d left his briefcase at the office. As he exited the lift, he was still thinking about the uncanny successes of the past week and wondering if sex – even solo sex – really had anything to do with it. The rustling of cloth and a moan startled him and he stopped in his tracks across from the darkened conference room. There was another rustle and a soft buzz. Cautiously, he pushed the door open and peeked inside. He was greeted by the sound of Victoria’s voice.

  ‘Either come in or stay out, but shut the door.’

  As he pulled the door to behind him, the buzzing became more prominent in the darkness.

  ‘Lock it, would you? Sorry, I forgot to. I wasn’t expecting company at this hour.’ Her voice was breathless, strained, and as his eyes adjusted to the dark, he understood why.

  She sat on the end of the conference table with her legs splayed, stilettoed feet resting on the arms of the chair at the head of the table.

  Her shirt was open and her breasts forced upward over the top of a pale lace bra, nipples at attention from the hard press. Her skirt was up over her hips and the crotch of her panties was shoved unceremoniously aside to make room for a hefty penis-shaped vibrator which was buried to the hilt and buzzing enthusiastically in her grasping pussy. With her free hand, she tweaked and rubbed at her clit, all the while rocking and shifting precariously on the edge of the table.

  She must have noticed the shocked look on his face. She forced a breathy laugh. ‘You’re not the only alpha wolf,’ she grunted. ‘Nor are you the only one who doesn’t have time for a shag.’

  ‘I didn’t know.’ He felt stupid the minute he’d said it, but he couldn’t think of anything else to say. In fact, he found it difficult to think of anything but the way her pussy sucked and gripped the penis-shaped vibrator, which, he was certain, was not nearly as hard as his own cock had suddenly become.

  ‘Is this your chair, the chair where you make the big decisions?’ She spoke between thrusts, nodding to the chair between her legs.

  ‘Yes,’ he rasped.

  She ground her arse hard against the table. ‘You can sit down, if you want.’

  ‘Thank you. I’d like that.’

  Without missing a thrust, she lifted one leg to give him room, and he settled into the chair, taking in the mouth-watering scent of hot pussy and a view that he had fantasised about all week as she brought her foot back down to rest on his shoulder.

  ‘You should probably undo your trousers. I imagine they’re struggling for containment.’

  He didn’t have to be told twice. Once his cock was free, he began to stroke, matching her rhythm as she thrust herself onto the dildo. He had drunk just enough wine and the situation was just surreal enough to make him bold. ‘Lose the vibrator,’ he commanded. ‘I want to look at you.’

  The buzzing stopped. ‘You’ll have to do more than look if you want me to take it out.’

  ‘Then I’ll take it out.’ He slapped her hand away and slowly eased the vibrator free, feeling her hungry grip tighten, relax and tighten again until, in one last gripping pull, she released the length of it with a shudder. He tossed it onto the floor, then opened her heavy lips with the pads of his thumbs and felt her hips shift forward, pressing in until she was millimetres from his face. The temptation was more than he could resist. He ran his tongue from just above the dark clench of her anus, feeling her squirm, feeling her soft moans and grunts vibrate all the way down through her perineum as he licked and nipped his way up her, flicking his tongue as deep into her gash as he could manage, then moving upward to suckle and nip her clit. She grabbed at his hair, pulling him closer, bucking against him, drenching his face in the sweet flavour of her, all the while making lovely inarticulate sounds at the back of her throat.

  ‘Fuck me,’ she gasped, as though she had just surfaced from a long time under water. ‘I need you to fuck me now.’

  He rose from the chair, holding her open for a better look at the ravenous grasping of her. He caressed her clit, making her quiver before he lifted her bottom off the table toward his pointing cock. ‘Will this help productivity?’

  ‘Yours and mine,’ she said.

  He shoved his hands under the clenching muscles of her arse and lifted her until the angle was just right. Then he inched into her slowly, feeling her yield and grip and yield again like she had done on the dildo. When she was completely impaled, she wrapped her legs around him and pulled him to her.

  ‘You taste like me,’ she sighed against his mouth.

  ‘Then I taste good,’ he replied, lowering his mouth to her jutting nipples, sucking hard and biting just enough to make her gasp. And when she gasped, she bore down, and her cunt gripped him like a closed fist.

  He shoved and pushed his way onto the table, on top of her, feeling her lacquered nails claw at his shoulders before she scrabbled backward to grab the outer edges of the table for leverage against his pounding.

  ‘If we break the table,’ she gasped, as he humped and ground into the vice of her, ‘you’ll have some explaining to do tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m the boss,’ he replied, giving her an extra hard hunch. ‘I don’t have to explain anything.’

  Her throaty laugh ended in a growl, and suddenly she was clawing and wrestling and kneeing until he yielded and she forced her way on top. She sat straddling him in the middle of the big table, leaning forward, pinning his arms over his head. Her impossibly tight nipples bounced temptingly at mouth level as she began to gyrate against him. Her bottom shifted and shoved, massaging his balls. With each rocking, each gyration they felt fuller and heavier, until they could barely contain their load.

  Almost as though she knew just that, she tightened her already impossible grip and bore down until he cried out and began to thrust back in a frenzy, like the friction had lit fire that had to be quenched. It wasn’t just her hungry snatch sucking at his cock. It was everything – the smell of pussy and sweat and expensive perfume. The salty sweet aftertaste of her still on his tongue, the little grunts and cries she made that became growls with her expanding passion. The table trembled and creaked beneath them as they bucked and grunted ever harder.

  ‘This is it,’ she hissed between her teeth. ‘The ideal. Two alpha wolves coming together. It’s what you need. What we both need.’ The howl that escaped her throat wasn’t unlike that of a wolf as her whole body spasmed and shook with her orgasm.

  The vibration of her, the trembling and convulsing of her, was more than he could take. He came hard. He came like he’d never stop, with her gripping him like she’d never let go.

  The next morning, she was waiting for him in his office a
s usual. She wore a charcoal power suit, with matching stilettos. Her hair was scraped back in a no-nonsense ponytail. The briefcase of cordovan leather sat open on her lap. The alpha wolf was well-disguised, he thought. Then he reminded himself that he looked at least as dapper and well-disguised as she did. He offered her his best professional smile. ‘Good morning, Victoria.’

  ‘Good morning, Alan.’

  He nodded to the briefcase. ‘What’s on the productivity agenda for today?’

  She looked up at him over the top of her glasses. ‘It’s the files, Alan. I’ve been thinking about the files ever since you showed me your system.’ She leant forward and he caught a hint of lace pressed against the inside of her silk blouse. ‘This is not a job you need to be doing. Delegate it. You’re the boss. Your time is too valuable to spend being a glorified file clerk.’

  ‘All right. I can do that.’ As he shifted in the chair, the tight bulge in his pocket reminded him of one of her earlier lectures about not taking himself quite so seriously, and he smiled.

  ‘What?’

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the penis-shaped vibrator. ‘You forgot this in the conference room last night. Understandable under the circumstances.’

  She offered him a crooked smile. A hint of a blush crawled up her throat as she took the vibrator from him. ‘Wouldn’t want to forget that, would I? After all, one never knows when it might be advantageous to come.’

  He held her gaze as she slipped the vibrating cock into her briefcase. ‘One never knows, does one?’ He felt the familiar tightening in his trousers. Perhaps even the delegation of the filing was a task that might go better after a good come.

  Flaws

  ‘I don’t do love spells,’ Sally Haddon said.

  Mick gripped the arms of the chair with white knuckles. ‘Your website said you specialise in sex magic.’

  ‘Love spells aren’t necessarily sex magic.’ She crossed long legs and smoothed the flounces of a burgundy gypsy skirt over shapely thighs. She was a far cry from the old hag he’d expected.

  ‘But you don’t understand. Darlene isn’t like other women. I believe– no, I’m certain– we’re meant to be together.’

  Sally moved to stand beside him, taking his chin in her hand, turning his head from side to side as though she were inspecting him for flaws. He thought she had given him a static shock from the Turkish carpet, but the energy coursed through his jaw, down over his stomach to surge in his penis, which suddenly felt tight in his trousers.

  ‘Have you had sex with her?’

  He tried to pull away, but she held him firmly, her gaze like iron. ‘I haven’t… We haven’t… But I want– ’

  ‘When was the last time you had sex with anyone?’ She tightened her grip on his chin. ‘I’ll know if you lie.’

  His heart galloped in his chest, but his straining cock didn’t seem to notice the definite frisson of fear that prickled his spine on little spider feet. ‘Three years.’

  She pulled her hand away and nodded to his lap. ‘Go home, watch some porn, have a wank. Trust me; it’s not worth the risk of a love spell.’

  He shifted uncomfortably around his bulge. ‘You make it sound like putting a curse on someone.’

  ‘Not much difference, really.’ She poured them tea in china cups and sat back on the sofa. ‘There are so many variables in a love spell, so many factors that, if not properly figured into the equation, can backfire in very nasty ways. That you’ve not had sex recently will complicate the situation further.’

  ‘If you won’t help me, I’ll go to someone else.’

  She raised an eyebrow. ‘Any reputable witch will say the same. If you find a disreputable one, well, things could get really ugly.’

  ‘Haven’t you ever been in love? Don’t you know what it feels like?’ God, he sounded like such a whiner.

  Her face softened and her grey eyes were like sea water. Slender fingers stroked the silver pentacle that hung between her breasts. Then she stood quickly. ‘Come with me. Perhaps I can help you after all.’

  The old Victorian house was exactly the kind of place where he imagined a witch would live. At the top of the stairs, she opened French doors and beckoned him inside. The room was the round tower he’d seen from the front garden. Beyond tall, slender windows was a profusion of foliage from oak and willow trees. It felt like his childhood tree house.

  The floor was covered with exotic carpets. There was a mountain of cushions and pillows piled at the centre. The witch lit candles around the perimeter of the carpeted area. Outside sunset streaked the sky melon and mauve.

  ‘What you need is a clarity spell.’ She lit the last candle and pinched out the match with her fingers. ‘I’ll make you a deal. If you’ll let me cast a clarity spell, if you’ll let it run its course, see what you need to see, then I’ll cast a love spell, if you wish.’

  She offered him her hand.

  ‘It’s a deal.’ He took her hand and moved into the circle. Dusk settled around the flicker of the candles. The world inside the circle of light effervesced and danced, awash in strange, liquid silence.

  ‘The boundaries between worlds are permeable at dusk. It’s the time to catch a glimpse of that which we might otherwise miss. If you’re lucky, you might catch a glimpse of Darlene as she really is. You might catch a glimpse of yourself as you really are.’

  He baulked, standing frozen just inside the circle. ‘You didn’t tell me we’d be navel gazing.’

  ‘I told you the rules. Play by them or there’s no deal.’

  He moved forward, swallowing the strange combination of fear and arousal he’d felt almost from the moment he entered Sally Haddon’s house.

  ‘Lie down.’ She nodded to the cushions.

  He did as he was told, suddenly finding it difficult to stand. As he nestled into the mound of cushions, the world around him downshifted to slow motion. The tall windows loomed over him like large gaping mouths. The candle flames roared like forest fires. ‘What was in that tea?’ His tongue felt unmanageably thick in his mouth.

  ‘Just tea. It’s the effect of the spell you’re feeling.’

  He forced a chuckle. ‘No eye of newt or hair of bat?’

  ‘This is sex magic, not Halloween.’

  When he managed to focus on her again, she stood over him tall and commanding. Completely naked. For some reason, that didn’t seem strange.

  ‘Are you going to fuck me?’ he asked as she knelt to unbutton his shirt. It bothered him how badly he hoped she would. Surely he should be thinking only of Darlene.

  ‘Possibly.’

  With a hand he seemed to have little control over, he cupped the witch’s full breasts, his thumb lingering over the heavy press of her nipples. He wanted to taste, but he couldn’t lift his head from the pillows. He managed to raise his hips as she undid his trousers and eased them down over his butt. His balls felt full. His cock stood thick and stiff like the trees outside the window.

  It was hard to tell what was real and what was just the result of the spell, and he was well past caring when Sally squatted over his face. She splayed her pussy, smoothed her creaminess onto her fingers and brought it his lips. Her fragrance penetrated the fog. As she slipped her fingers into his mouth, he suckled her taste, breathed her fragrance, and everything became clear, sharply focused.

  ‘Remember now,’ she spoke inside his head. ‘See clearly, more clearly than you saw the first time. Remember Darlene, be with her again. Pay attention.’

  He had worked late. He thought he was alone in the building until he heard sounds down the hall. He figured it was the pipes groaning. Abacus Accounting was in an old building. But pipes didn’t giggle.

  How could it have been only three weeks ago? His desire for Darlene filled him so completely it was as though he had never not wanted her.

  He pushed back from his computer, listening, holding his breath. Sure enough, someone somewhere was giggling. On tiptoe, he moved down the hallway past his boss’s darkened o
ffice toward the conference room, with its big window and vertical blinds, incongruous in the 19th century building.

  Through the cracks in the carelessly drawn blinds, he could see the HR manager, Ted Engels, in the chair at the head of the mahogany table. Spread in front of him, like the business of the day, was Darlene. She sat splay-legged, skirt hiked over her hips to reveal the exquisite pillows of her pale bottom.

  She wore black suspenders with a matching bra, which Ted had pushed off her shoulders along with the black silk blouse. Movie star breasts, crowned with large peek-a-boo nipples, spilled over the rumpled lace, rising and falling with excited breath. One hand curled in Ted’s mussed hair, the other braced against the table.

  Mick’s hands found the quickest route to his fly, releasing his heavy cock. Jealousy tinged voyeurism making his arousal sharp edged and tense. He had wanted Darlene since she joined the billing department two months ago. She was perfection, slender yet curvy, large blue eyes, ripe fruit lips displayed against a sweet cream complexion and all curtained in a lush tumble of blonde hair. He wasn’t alone in his lust. All of the men at Abacus wanted her.

  As Ted pulled away, Mick got a glimpse of her smoothly shaved pussy, every fold of it, every bud of it displayed for worship. There was no mistaking Ted’s piety as he fumbled to free his cock while she whimpered in a little girl voice, begging him to fuck her.

  But Ted was no match for a goddess. He only managed a few hard thrusts before he grunted out his wad and cursed his frustration. Caught in the throes of his release, he didn’t see Darlene roll her eyes in irritation.

  ‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I couldn’t hold back,’ he gasped when he could finally speak again.

  ‘It’s all right, Ted.’ Her words were tightly wrapped in a forced smile. ‘Just finger me until I come.’

  Still struggling for breath, he pulled out of her pussy, plopped down in the chair and began awkwardly stroking her.