Forbidden Lust: SEDUCTION

Copyright © 2013 RJ Moore

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

All characters depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.

Michelle sighed, an exasperated exhalation
of pent-up frustration. She pushed her morning plate of rock melon and yoghurt aside, barely touched, the scraping noise of ceramic on stone shattering the silence permeating the kitchen.

Glancing up, Michelle saw the barely suppressed flinch and fleeting shadow of irritation cross Hank’s face. She knew he hated that noise.
HATED
it. She didn’t care, enough was enough.

Even when angry Michelle looked great and she knew it. She had made quite the impression at the company Christmas dinner some six months prior. All the “old boys” had been sure to let Hank know their thoughts on the subject, their tongues loosened by copious amounts of alcohol in celebration of another successful year for the firm. When she had arrived to meet him back then, her black cocktail dress had hugged her small frame tightly, highlighting the hours she spent at the gym and pool each week. At the start of the evening, they had tried not to stare at the cleavage peeking through her plunging neckline, or the black patterned stockings leading up to her fashionably short hem line. By the end of the Christmas party, with the champagne flowing freely, the lads were not as worried about hiding their admiring stares. Finally, Hank had to rescue Michelle from the senior vice president, who had clearly
had
one Cognac too many.

The cab ride home from that party had been a blur. Hank, seemingly fuelled by the lustful, envious stares of his colleagues had been unable keep his hands off her. With the bright lights of the city barely faded, his hands had
moved to her thighs, playing with the elastic straps holding up the black nylon stockings that had been such a hit at the party.  Michelle had been in the far left corner of the back seat, Hank in the middle beside her, a forgotten Christmas hamper on the far right. Hank had leaned over her, partially blocking the view of the driver who had
seemed
oblivious to the sexual advances in the back seat. Hank’s fingers had pushed further, past the straps to the black panties that Michelle had recently purchased, specifically for the Christmas party.  They were a delicate and expensively made semi-translucent material, something Michelle had only become aware of when looking at herself in the mirror earlier that day. Her lower lips had been clearly visible through the material, sitting below a thin manicured strip of hair that had been also visible in the light.

Hank hadn’t seen any of that detail in the darkness of the cab but he had felt her smoothness as he pushed her panties aside, in his alcoholic clumsiness the thin panty material had ripped, but in the heat of the moment neither had cared.  With uncharacteristic haste, he had pushed his fore and middle finger into her mound, slightly cocking his fingers he pushed up and into her as her wetness encouraged him further.  Thrust after thrust his fingers had stroked inside her, as his mouth sought hers, his tongue matching the thrusts of his right hand. She had groaned as he drove into her.   

Writhing beneath his touch, Michelle had sunk her teeth into his neck and playfully bitten him. As she had raised her eyes from the love bite she had noticed the silent watchful eyes of the hire driver in the mirror. Whether it was the alcohol, the admiring men, or something else, Michelle had been shameless, staring back into the mirror. She had clutched Hank’s shoulder and ground her hips into the palm of his hand, biting her bottom lip to quell the scream that had been growing from her thighs to her chest. 

All too soon the car ride had
ended, the scent of her sex heavy in the back seat. Legs giddy with lust, Michelle had staggered from the cab as Hank handed the company card to the driver for payment. After he had driven away, the two of them, intoxicated by both the champagne and the fumes of their sex, had entered their home.  They hadn’t made it to the bedroom…With her cocktail dress pulled up to her waist and the remains of her panties around her knees, Hank had led Michelle into the kitchen and taken her then, leaning over the very same table they were having their breakfast at now. He had made love to her with a forceful passion that since that night had slowly faded.

Oh, they had had sex over the last twelve months, yes. But it had become more and more out of habit of late and in fact they hadn’t been intimate in nearly a full month. With more of Hanks time taken by the office demands, Michelle was feeling alone and frustrated.

Hank worked hard at his job, there was no denying, and he was good at what he did. Too good. With his success, more and more of his time had been required at the office. Late dinners had turned into missed dinners, had turned into going to bed alone and waking with Hank climbing into bed only to wake up alone again in the morning. And enough was enough.

It was the same old argument, and Michelle was tired of it.  She wanted attention. No! She
needed
it.

Hank drained the last of his coffee and reached for the keys to the Audi R8
Spyder.  The white convertible went to the highest billed partner for the month and it had been in their garage for the last four, making him the envy of all other partners in the office.

“I’ll try, I promise” said Hank, finally breaking the silence that had hung over the table like the morning mist outside.

“You’ll need to do better than try Hank” replied Michelle firmly, fixing her emerald eyes on him.

Hank, who normally cut a confident, even cocky demeanour in his tailored suit, looked unusually uncomfortable, “I’ll try…I will…it’s just this is the final week before our
submis…”

Michelle cut him off, “There is
always
something Hank, I’m not asking you to drop everything all the time, I am just asking you for tonight, just tonight, you be mine”.

“I’ll do everything I can” replied Hank.

And that was where it was left.   Hank departed for the office with a kiss on the cheek, and Michelle, after deciding a tea would be more calming than what was left of her breakfast, began her daily routine. 

“He’s definitely fucking someone” said Mandy, her strawberry blonde curls bobbing enthusiastically as she nodded, as if agreeing to her own statement.

The statement was met by raucous laughter from the other two girls at the table; Michelle however was not laughing and didn’t know how to react.

“Oh come on darling it’s not that bad,” laughed Tina, the unofficial ringleader of the table.
 
“Ask Vicky, she would know. Her Trent has booked more overtime with that red headed secretary slut of his than with clients this last three months,” 

With their husbands away and maids at home keeping their respective houses clean, the four women had all joined the local tennis club looking for companionship, or at the very least someone empathetic who enjoyed a drink and a good gossip. Their similar souls had bonded, enjoying drinks after tennis every Tuesday. Michelle was the youngest of the group and newest addition to the club. She looked a little at odds with the rest of the table, with all save her, having had at least a breast and nose job.  Michelle however liked her breasts the way they were, somewhere between a B and a C, large enough to make an impression but not so big as to lose eye contact from every male in a ten foot radius.  Her nose, also untouched, was small and slightly
upturned, a quirk from her mother’s side of the family and a feature she was quite proud of.

Michelle finally cracked a smile and swished the celery around in her Bloody Mary before lifting and biting off the tip to show to the rest of the group what would happen if Mandy’s prediction were true.

The rest of the conversation was uneventful, and truth be told, Michelle’s heart wasn’t in it. 

Normally she looked forward to their weekly meet, but the constant bickering between herself and Hank had her distracted. 

The scent of freshly cut flowers filled the kitchen when Michelle finally got home around three. A light buzz from one too many bloody Marys had her in a better frame of mind and there, sitting on the kitchen table, was a large arrangement of fresh flowers and a small white box tied with a black velvet ribbon.

The card was in Hank’s handwriting, “I have a meeting with a client at 6pm but can make it home by nine. Wear this and I’ll make it up to you tonight… I haven’t forgotten”.  In the box, was a small package wrapped in tissue paper, inside was a pair of small black panties, the same as the ones she had worn to the Christmas party six months prior.

The rest of the day passed quickly for Michelle, her mood lightened considerably by the flowers and card, and the anticipation of finally having her husband’s attention all to herself.  She had phoned Babette, her beautician to see if she could squeeze her in, “of course dear…” and so the majority of the afternoon had been spent there. After eating dinner alone, she took a bottle of sparkling wine into the bathroom and ended up having several glasses while soaking in the tub.

Lighting candles, Michelle finished drying her hair and slipped into a silky lace camisole, something she had bought several months back for a special occasion but had yet to wear.  It barely covered the panties Hank had given her at the front and her pert toned bottom peeked cheekily from behind
.

The night was warm and so, with the covers off the bed, she lay on the silk sheets, and sank comfortably into the pillow, waiting for Hank to arrive.

Michelle awoke with a start.  The candles had burnt low and flickered to an unseen breeze, casting dancing shadows up the mirror and onto the vaulted ceiling above the bed.  Her hair, tousled from sleep, pressed against her pale skin, looking almost auburn in the light and was reflected wildly in the crystal of the fallen wine glass on her dresser. Beside it the empty wine bottle, bathed in the burnt orange glow of the candles and looked like it was alight.

Hearing movement in the bedroom and realising how late it was, Michelle decided against turning over and confronting Hank over yet another missed date and instead decided to lay still and ignore his return.  She tensed as his heavy form lay on the bed next to her, yet she still refused to turn, lying on her stomach facing away from the door and his side of the bed.

He lightly touched her shoulder, and trailed his hand gently down to the small of her back through the sensual material of the camisole she wore, lingering there for a moment.  The black silk sheets lay over her legs and partially covered her backside, revealing her milk white cheeks and black panties. 

Hank’s hands continued to run and stroke her back, and as his fingers continued to rub and caress, Michelle started to relax a little, the annoyance fading.  She relaxed into the bed, enjoying the attention.  Deciding that she would roll over and pull him down for a kiss, Michelle started to push up from the bed and roll over onto her side. 

The gentle hands turned strong, preventing her from turning over and pushing her back down onto the sheets. Michelle opened her mouth to protest when one of the hands which had been rubbing and stroking her back for the last few minutes, came around her throat to her lips and pushed a finger across them, to silence the protest which was about to escape from them.

As she stopped struggling, the weight from the hand relinquished, and moved off her shoulders briefly. Then to her surprise, a thin scarlet scarf, one she did not recognise, looped over her head and fell in a loop at the bottom of her neck and resting against her left breast.  The weight on the bed shifted and Michelle could feel his leg go over her waist and settle on the other side as he leant forward and pulled the silk scarf up over her eyes and tied it in a tight knot at the back of her head, bunching her dark hair up where it caught and pulled it from the sides.