Authors: Astrid Lee Donovan
The knight got his face level with Celia’s and propping himself up on one elbow he rummaged through her skirts and brought his hand to her throbbing centre.
Ever so gently, he began to swirl his fingers and massage her aching pussy.
“That last guy was a bit brutal in the end, you just relax,” his eyes looked kind, warm and strikingly familiar, but she soon swept that thought aside to succumb to his hands.
Giving in to the sensations, Celia opened her knees and pulled against the holds to try and give the knight better access.
“She likes you,” Anton smiled.
Celia moaned and took a look around the room. From above, she could see the knight’s hand buried in her skirts, the muscles in his arm flexing erotically. To her side, she could see in the mirrors her voyeurs squirming in their seats. Some of the most brazen pulled out their cocks to masturbate to the live sex show.
“It’s ok boys, you can pleasure yourself as you watch, but if you come you leave your chair,” Anton instructed. In the wake of his words several other men open flopped out their engorged members and pumped excitedly.
The knight slid his fingers in her hole and nuzzled her already active g-spot, causing her pussy to clench.
The knight chuckled and slid his fingers out, “My turn,”
The man slipped between her thighs and lined up his erect sex. For Celia, this would be the first time she hadn’t seen a cock before it went in.
Slippery from the previous guy’s come, the knight had no issue sliding his pulsing head into her slit. He groaned with desire, letting Celia’s overexcited pussy muscles clamp onto his considerable girth.
The knight thrust gently, letting her juice spill over and drench the dress. With one hand, he untied Celia’s leather corset and swept her breasts out of the plunging neckline to suckle on them.
Men groaned in lust, with two voyeurs spurting come on the table.
Aroused by seeing these perfect strangers turned on by her loss of control, Celia clenched her pussy and sent her knight into energetic thrusts. Her hard clit was rubbed by the man’s rough pants, and she found a seed of her orgasm take root, her pelvis dropped and her pussy engorged, pulling another inch of the knight deeper inside. With another series of passionate thrusts, Celia screamed and her arms and legs shot out in their manacles as wave after wave of release swept from her toes to her fingertips. The knight grunted heavily and with a final plunge exploded his come, Celia’s pussy dripping with juice.
Panting, the knight propped himself up, gently kissed Celia’s breasts and slid off the table towards his original place.
“Well done Celia, you knocked off three men in one round,” Anton sounded impressed, “Would you like to go again?”
“Yes, just once more will suffice,” Celia gasped.
Anton chuckled, “For that, I am making the next choice, which I’m sure you will enjoy. Dev, your turn,”
Dev, Anton’s newest love, emerged from the shadows.
Dev was a beautiful man, but not one that Celia would ever considered bedding. He had a broad forehead, swept back deep brown hair and a perfectly square dimpled chin. He looked more like a Bollywood star than a lover she would choose, but if Anton wanted her to experience Dev, she was going to trust him.
This time, Dev didn’t undress her. Instead, he climbed onto the table and leveled his face with her crotch. With a warm and soft hand, Dev eased Celia’s damp skirts away to reveal what could only be the richest cream pie any of them had ever seen. Using the wall mirrors, Celia could see Dev lick his lips in appreciation – it all made sense.
Dev gently opened Celia’s labia and trailed his thick, long tongue up the length of her sex from oozing hole to pulsing clit.
Celia groaned with agonizing arousal.
After several tentative licks, Dev nuzzled his mouth down and slurped on her mixed juices of come and pussy. Dev alternated strong flat rubs against rigid tongue swirls around her throbbing bean. Celia clawed at her manacles, part of her trying to get away from the sensations, the other desperate for Dev to ravage her senseless.
Darting his tongue into her hot slit, Dev renewed his hunger and gobbled up the sticky fluid her past lovers had left.
With every stab of his tongue, Dev was bringing Celia to the brink of her next shattering orgasm. Turned on by her mingling tastes, Dev had taken his free hand to his pants and was fumbling with his crotch to free his rigid cock.
Showing no intention of wanting to fuck Celia made the session even more erotic. Celia bucked and thrust with her hips to finish the coiling sensation that grew in the pit of her stomach. Never had someone been so greedy to eat her out before. Her clit ached for release.
With a final tongue-stab, Celia screamed out as her orgasm ravaged her senses and shot her come-infused juice into Dev’s eager mouth, “Suffice! Suffice! Oh my god, suffice!”
Dev peeled his mouth away and took a nearby towel to wipe his mouth. Anton clapped and the seated guests gently released the manacles.
With gentle hands, the mystery men guided Celia off the table to where Anton stood holding a bathrobe.
“You, my dear, are a treasure,” he wrapped the robe around Celia, giving her some privacy to tuck her breasts back in, “Between you and me, Dev has a terrible time of getting a hard-on in group sessions, so what you did will keep me occupied for another few hours,” Anton winked and walked back to the dimly lit table to bring in the next invitee.
*****
Back in the living room, Celia took a seat on a couch and breathed a sigh of relief; her clit had never been so completely worked.
Appearing from another side room, Trent was backslapping and jostling with another guy. It was the same handsome knight from the table.
Seeing them together triggered a familiarity she had only glimpsed fleetingly in the candlelit room. Her breath caught uncomfortably.
“Celia, I want you to meet someone very special to me,” he led the knight over. Catching her eye, the knight’s eyes flashed and he visibly blushed.
“This, is Celia,” Trent gestured to the stunned Celia, “and this, Celia, is my little brother Mark,”
Celia couldn’t help but laugh, “I’d hardly call him ‘little,’ Trent,” Mark’s lips pulled into a sneaky smile.
“But yes, I think I bumped into him and experienced some of the family resemblance,”
So, Celia thought, this is going to be a family affair.
THE END
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BILLIONAIRE’S FAVOUR
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Chapter One
Reese mumbled nonsensical curses under her breath, looking out the window of her father’s car. He kept shaking his head, his fingers gripping the wheel so hard they were turning white at the knuckles. He looked over at her sporadically, keeping an eye on the busy city streets in front of them.
“Just look at me,” he finally said. Reese responded by pressing her forehead against the window. These streets were not unfamiliar to her, but she rarely saw them through the frame of a car window. In Brooklyn, it made more sense to walk or take the subway most places you needed to go. She didn’t understand why her father insisted on driving to work every day, getting caught in traffic, when he could be at his office in less than twenty minutes on the train.
“It’s not becoming of a man of my position to arrive from public transport,” he’d say, as though being in middle management at a real estate corporation was something to brag about. Sure, the company itself was prestigious; Callion Enterprises was known worldwide as one of NYC’s most respected and exclusive real estate agencies, and its CEO was a billionaire many times over.
But Reese’s dad was a paper pusher. He managed the Lower East Side offices from the corporate headquarters on Fifth Avenue. He certainly wasn’t going to be singled out as not keeping up the company image if it was found out that he took the subway instead of his Hyundai Sonata.
“How many times do I have to tell you this is for your own good? This position is…well, it’s just…it’s
unheard
of, for someone of your age and, uh, experience…or lack thereof…to get this job,” her father said, rehashing the same argument they’d been having all summer.
Reese was not interested in how hard it had been for her father to get her the interview, how impressive it was that she’d managed to actually get the gig. All she knew is that working with her father at Callion Enterprises meant she wasn’t going to SCAD, the Savannah College of Art and Design, the prestigious art school she’d been accepted to the year prior.
Reese was an extremely gifted painter, and a decent sculptor as well, and even a pretty good potter. But she wasn’t necessarily the best student in other fields. And no matter how much she tried to convince her parents that being accepted to SCAD
meant
something, that it could open doors to the career she really wanted, a career in the arts, they only looked at her B-, C+ grades in calculus, chemistry, physics and computer science.
“That’s no way to make a living,” her mother had said sadly, shaking her head and clutching her husband’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Reese, but we just cannot allow it.”
“I don’t care if you allow it,” Reese had spat back. “I’ll take out as many loans as it takes…”
“With what credit? And without us as cosigners? You simply don’t understand what that will mean for you,” her father had retorted, far less sympathetic than her mother. “You’ll come and work for Mr. Callion, and if, in five years or so, you’ve saved enough to put yourself through school, we’ll consider helping you out.”
“Five years? Five years, Dad? By then, they won’t even take me! I don’t have any space here to work; I don’t have a studio here! If I’m going to have to wait five years, I’m going to have to have someplace to keep honing my skills…”
“Painting pretty pictures of fruit is not a skill!” Reese shrank under her father’s judgmental eyes. “If you can afford your own studio space, I won’t argue, but it’ll have to come out of
your
pocket, young lady. Or, you can focus all that energy on a
real
career, something that will get you a retirement fund and health insurance.”
So that’s how Reese came to be sulking in the passenger side, watching lower Manhattan fade away into the opulence of Midtown. It would be her first day as the assistant to the assistant to Mr. Callion. She stewed over how rich the guy must be to be able to hire an assistant for his assistant. Not to mention how needy.
It was no secret that Mr. Callion was high-maintenance. Reese need only watch her father’s face fall in shades of fear when he spoke of his boss, or watch the woman she’d be helping jump as her boss paged her for the tenth time in an hour, to know that the man was something of a force of nature.
And Reese was no fan of authority on any level. She didn’t foresee herself lasting very long at this job if she had to act the part of dutiful and deferent underling. Which was fine with her; maybe if she got fired and had to take a job at Burger King, her parents would see the point in allowing her to attend college.
They’d said they would consider helping her get through one of the city universities if she could get in and agreed to study business, but Reese knew herself well enough to know that she’d be wasting her time pursuing anything that wasn’t art. It was her one true passion.
When she’d brought up the possibility of community college, where she could rack up some credits before transferring to save money, her father had clucked and said he’d be ashamed to tell his colleagues his daughter was in community college. Reese hated her father’s obsession with his image. It had made her life a living hell for long enough.
As the car slowed, preparing to turn into the underground garage, Reese’s heart sank even further. The building was one of those huge, glass monstrosities she hated so much. She much preferred the gentle brownstones and elegant architecture of Brooklyn and lower Manhattan. Her art teacher had called buildings like this one “glass prisons.” She sighed thinking of Mr. Selter, on whom she’d had quite the crush.
She had no interest in the boys her own age, finding them all immature and dull, but Mr. Selter had been sophisticated, intelligent, and handsome. He was in his thirties, with long hippie hair and a bohemian style that made Reese’s mouth water. She’d always liked older men. Not that she really knew what it would be like to be with one; she’d only had sex once, experimentally, believing that sex and death were at the heart of all great art, and thus an important part of her education. She’d found it unappealing, but at least it got it out of the way.
The car pulled into a parking spot reserved for her father. When she finally turned to look at him, he was puffed with pride.
“Someday, you’ll understand what perks really are,” he said. Reese rolled her eyes; her father considered his own parking spot near the elevator a worthwhile life goal. She did not.
She stepped from the car and immediately stumbled; the kitten heels she’d worn as part of her business attire were far more uncomfortable than her Vans and Converse. The whole outfit was uncomfortable. She was used to paint-stained skinny jeans and an oversized t-shirt, one that fit snugly around her generous chest but flattered her slightly rotund stomach.
She wasn’t the sort of girl to obsess over diets and fitness, and it showed, but only in her tummy. She thought she was rather becoming, even with the few extra pounds. Her C-cup breasts certainly made up for the extra curves in her torso, and her wide hips and plump butt reminded her of the voluptuous women of days gone by, who were considered sex symbols by the men who painted their portraits.
Her blazer made her suck in her gut, the tight skirt nearly bursting around her derriere. Her mother had brought the clothes home after Reese refused to go shopping with her, and there was no time to return them for a more comfortable size. Her chest looked almost too large in the blazer, and she felt like she was going to find bagel crumbs in between the canyon of her cleavage when she took her bra off that night.
“You look lovely,” her father said, kissing the top of her auburn hair. Reese huffed, following him to the elevator.
“So, I’ll show you to your desk, I’m sure Mandy will be there to take care of you,” he said after pressing the button for the thirtieth floor. “And then I’ll be just a few floors down the rest of the day if you need anything. Or just miss your old man.”
Reese scowled.
“I can’t believe my daughter is already working above me,” he said, turning to her with a smile so large she actually wanted to return it. Somewhere deep down, she really did love her stupid, corporate-ladder-climbing, image-obsessed, artistically dense father. And he was
so
excited about this…she almost felt guilty about her sour grapes attitude.
When the door slid open, Reese felt a chill. All around, people sat in cubicles. Gray carpeting covered the floor. Opaque glass offices lined the far wall. The chatter and drone of phones, keyboards, and chatter hit her ears like a train. She wanted to turn right around and leave. But, instead, she followed her father through the office, eyes growing wider at each kitschy coffee mug and poster, all seemingly designed for the sole purpose of turning a hellishly unimaginative space into a place suitable for human habitation.
Turning a corner, she saw the woman who’d interviewed her; Mandy was in her late 30’s but looked to be in her 50’s, with frizzy hair and a frazzled, anxious demeanor that made all her movements seem jerky and unnatural.
“Oh,” she said, eyes popping open as Reese and her father approached. “You’re here.”
She was holding a coffee, and thrust it into Reese’s hands. She looked down, wide-eyed, at the hot beverage, some of Mandy’s anxiety rubbing off on her.
“Oh, uh, thanks but I don’t really drink…”
“It’s not for you,” Mandy interrupted with a strained smile. “It’s for Mr. Callion. The first thing you’ll do every day is bring him his coffee. He likes it black with one sugar. I figured you should just do it now so you can meet him and get it over with.”
“Jumping right into it! I like that!” Reese’s father said, patting her on the back. “I guess I’ll leave you to it, then, doll. I know you’ll do great. Mandy, I’ll see you around.”
And with that, Reese was alone, with Mandy’s thin smile and the boring bustle of an office surrounding her.
“Are you sure I shouldn’t, like, meet him first?” Reese said, biting her lip. It seemed a bit strange to immediately be given a task, before even getting a tour of the office or filling out any paperwork.
“But you will meet him,” Mandy said. “When you bring him the coffee. He knows to expect you.”
“Oh…okay,” Reese said, looking around. “So…where’s his office?”
Mandy pointed to a door not far from them down the hallway. Green-frosted glass lined the wall, separating the private office from the outer office. With a shrug, Reese followed the glass wall to a door: Robert Callion, CEO was printed in bold black letters. Pushing the door open slowly, Reese popped her head in.
It was all she could do not to gasp; the office was like night and day compared to the workroom outside. Huge, clear glass windows made up the three walls, with darkly vibrant flowering plants in each corner. Natural light flooded the space, made the artificial lighting of the workplace seem even harsher. At the far end, with a view of Manhattan stretching out behind it, a dark wooden desk sat, ornamented with a computer, some type of small statue, and nothing else.
Except, that is, for the man behind it, who Reese immediately saw as something of a work of art himself. If the office itself hadn’t taken her breath away, her new boss would have. He was on the younger side of his 30’s, with full, jet black hair and broad shoulders; she could see, even from across the room, the strong dimple cut into his chin. His well-tailored suit seemed to fall like molten obsidian on his muscular arms.
Reese felt her body reacting immediately, and strangely; he was exactly the sort of man she’d always imagined when she let herself fantasize about lovers she might have. Older, dark, well groomed and well kept. She’d just never seen someone like him in the flesh, believing such men to exist only between the pages of books.
Get over it;
she scolded herself, crossing the room now as his face turned up to take her in.
He’s your boss, not some could-be Casanova.
“Hi,” Reese said as she approached, holding out the coffee like it was some piece of trash she wanted nowhere near her own body. As she got closer, her pace slowed. His eyes – boldly green – were so intense she almost felt afraid to approach. And as they scanned her from top to bottom – and back again – she felt her heart fluttering behind her ribcage, her stomach turning over on itself.
He’s looking at me like I’m a piece of meat,
she thought.
Or art…
Indeed, it was hard to tell exactly
what
was going on behind Mr. Callion’s eyes. Whatever it was, it stopped almost immediately as she stood in front of his desk and his eyes snapped back to his computer.
“I’m Reese Sherman,” she said, setting the coffee down and waiting, awkwardly, to see if he would react to her at all. “I’m Mandy’s new assistant.”
A pause. Mr. Callion clicked his mouse. Finally, turning to her slowly, as though still distracted by something on the screen.
“You’re young,” he said finally, leaning back and crossing his arms across his chest. Now, his eyes stayed firmly on her own, though she still felt strangely judged. Reese didn’t know how to respond, so she simply shrugged.
“They hired me,” she said, blushing now. Was this
really
the man she was going to work for? Despite her immediate reaction to his good looks, she already got the distinct feeling they wouldn’t get along very well. He seemed so distant, so gruff, so…mean. Her father’s fear of him, and Mandy’s attitude, suddenly made a lot more sense.