by Rachel Cray
Copyright 2011, 2013 Rachel Cray
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination and should not be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons (living or dead), actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
All rights are reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission by the author, except for brief quotations for review purposes.
This book is to be read by ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
The team had worked hard for the last couple of weeks. Each of them had put in an average eighty hours a week and, at last, the final legal documents were signed, the deal had been closed and the clients had returned stateside extremely happy with the way everything had turned out. Our law firm was sure they’d be back with another merger or acquisition project pretty soon, so there was plenty to celebrate.
The clients had given a substantial sum of cash to the support staff that had been associated with the deal and helped make it happen - paralegals, legal secretaries, the library team, the mailroom staff and, not least, the office manager - and now they had hit a quiet bar to spend it. Many of the team had been too exhausted to be there. Some of them wanted to wait a week or two so that they could recover from the long ordeal. But the firm’s partners had insisted that the party should be held tonight because of other work scheduled the following week which might spill into more evening overtime.
Alison felt a little tired. But this was an opportunity she didn’t want to miss. She had fancied Phil, the office manager, for months; previous chances she had had to make a move had come to nothing. He looked tired, which wasn’t surprising; he was less likely to resist her approach.
She turned and saw him at the end of the bar, standing alone and cradling a half-full glass of wine in his hand. He was swaying his head gently to the beat of the music. Her chance had finally arrived; she felt as ready as she would ever be, and inched her way towards him, moving slowly past the others so as not to make it too obvious to anyone.
She caught his eye. It was now or never, she decided. She’d wanted to tell him for months, but now she put enough alcohol inside her to stiffen her resolve, it was time for her to act. "Having a good time?" she smiled.
He grinned his reply. "Yeah. How about you?" His head was still moving rhythmically as he spoke.
"There's something I want to tell you, Phil." And her finger beckoned his face down towards hers.
The music was loud, and as he bent forward he turned and put his ear towards her.
"I love you," she said softly, seriously.
He said nothing, but turned his face again and placed his lips gently on hers.
She responded, pushing her tongue gently into his mouth, searching around carefully and letting it rest tentatively against his. She had had a few drinks more than she would have liked, and wished she had been completely sober so she could have enjoyed every nanosecond of this moment, the moment she had longed for.
He moved away, probably more worried about being seen by the others at the party, most of whom were his subordinates.
"Do you want to go outside?" he asked. "It's getting stuffy in here."
She smiled and nodded.
"I'll go out first, and you can follow in a couple of minutes," he suggested. "I don’t want us to be seen together for too long here."
He went and reached for his coat on the rack, and moved to the door without speaking to anyone else at the party. He didn't turn round as he left; anyone who saw him would have assumed that he would be back later that evening.
Alison waited at the bar for a moment, and then decided to kill time by a quick visit to the toilets. There was a queue, as always, and it would take longer than two minutes if she stayed to take her turn. So she returned to the party, where the dancing seemed to be getting faster, and the music was getting louder. Slowly, she moved across to get her coat.
"Going already?" one of the girls asked. "It's just livening up!"
"No," Alison smiled. "I just need some fresh air outside." She put on her coat and opened the door.
Phil was some twenty yards up the road, pretending to take an interest in the vehicles passing by. "Let's go," he smiled when she reached him.
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere quiet, maybe. Just the two of us."
At last I've got him, she thought, putting her hand on his arm. After all this time....
As they walked, she recalled an erotic dream she’d had the previous week, which had driven her to take this bold step. She was standing naked in front of him in her bedroom, and held a banana, half-peeled, at her crotch. It was like a stiff cock, waiting for a lover to give it fellatio. He’d knelt in front of her and had taken it in his mouth; the symbolism had aroused her in her sleep and, when she had woken up, her crotch was wet and she felt compelled to bring herself to a climax. She felt a surge of anticipation now as their time approached....
They continued walking in the dimly lit street; he soon turned into a darker passageway, and she followed. In the shadows she felt him lean forward and kiss her passionately on her open lips. They embraced tightly, and a warm tingle enveloped her entire being, that same warm tingle that she had anticipated whenever she dreamed of this moment. She had looked forward to this for so long, and now it was finally going to happen. If he wanted it, she resolved, she would surrender to him willingly. There and then.
He undid the top button of her coat and cupped his hand gently over her breast. She pushed herself hard against his hand, wanting him to feel her passion, to let him know that she could be ready for him. His other hand was placed lightly over the nape of her neck while their long kiss continued.
Her hand was resting on his neck and, in the narrow gap between them, her free hand moved down inside his coat and jacket to press itself against his warm and inviting chest, and then down, down past his navel to the hairy tangle.
She had hoped that he would have an erection by now; she was disappointed his hand had not wandered downwards towards her pussy, which was now gently lubricating itself in exciting expectation. Her hand clasped his limp dick. He needs encouraging, she thought. Maybe the drink had affected him.
"Stand against the wall," she whispered. "I've got a nice surprise for you."
He obeyed, and she squatted down in front of him; unzipping the fly on his trousers, she fished out his dick and put the tip in her mouth, working her tongue slowly round, one way and then the other.
"Mmm... that's good... really good," he said. His fingertips reached for her head and began caressing her cheeks.
Slowly, slowly, he grew thick and hard. When she was satisfied he was big enough, she stood up again. "Now it's my turn against the wall," she whispered. "I want you inside."
They changed places; she pulled down her panties, then stepped out of one leg; lifted her skirt and parted her thighs to give him room to slide in.
He pulled down his pants and pushed forward, but his hardness had diminished. She reached down to put it inside her, but it became limp again.
"Never mind," she whispered. "You can come between my legs. We'll soon get you worked up again."
She rubbed his dry tip against her moist clit, and pushed herself tight against him, closing her legs so that his dick was trapped at the entrance to her pussy. She felt him lodged next to her; if only she only could get him bigger again... she jerked her pelvis back and forth, and he soon followed with the same rhythm. But after a minute, his limp dick flopped out. He tried rubbing it against her clit and, whilst it gave her a delicious tease, it just wouldn't grow again.
It was no use, she decided. He was tired, and he'd had far too much to drink already.
"Sorry," he said. "Let's go back to my place. It isn't far."
She replaced her underwear while he pulled up his pants, and they walked off in silence together for another three blocks to his apartment.
At last they reached his home; he unlocked the door and gestured her in. He took her coat, and hung it up next to his in the lobby.
"Can I fix you a drink?" he asked.
"I think we've had enough already, don't you?"
He smiled. "Straight to the bedroom, then..." he held out his arm, pointing the way.
She kicked off her shoes and removed her clothes, dumping them on a chair next to the double bed. She heard him use the bathroom and, by the time he emerged, she was sitting up in bed, displaying her breasts.
He came in, stripped and joined her in bed. His hands went straight to her breasts.
She giggled mischievously, reaching down for his balls and dick.
They kissed for a few moments; he withdrew his tongue from her mouth as she fought back with hers, feeling her way past his lips and onwards towards his throat. She broke loose, and went down inside the sheets to suck his cock.
And still she couldn't get it to grow. This guy is tired and just can't take his drink, she thought. She fondled his balls, hoping this would stir his attention, but to no avail. They'd have to talk about it, she decided. She went up to face him again.
He had fallen asleep. She could hardly believe it. "Phil!" she called. "Wake up!" But he didn't move. Is this a wind-up? she wondered. Is he kidding me?
She lay facing him for a few moments, her arm propped up on her elbow. No, she decided. He had really fallen asleep.
Then she remembered all the hours they’d put in at the office the last few weeks. Phil had certainly put in even more hours than most of them. All it needed was a few drinks in his belly and everything would suddenly catch up with him. He’d come crashing to a full stop. And here he was, flat out on his bed. His body was hers for the taking - but his brain wasn’t at home tonight.
Well, I want him, and I'm damn well going to have him, one way or another, she told herself. She reached for his dick again, and wondered whether it would be possible to jerk off a man while he was still sleeping. If she could do that to him, that would at least be something. She made a mental note to consult Wikipedia on the Internet to see if there was any advice on the subject. She chuckled to herself and, for a short while, she fantasised about getting him to come over her breasts. She decided that she wouldn't get too much pleasure from it.
He still wasn't moving. She pushed his legs together, and climbed on top of him, her legs apart, and grabbed his dick again between thumb and forefinger - not gently, this time - and rubbed it up and down against her clit as she rocked back and forward. At least if he can't get to come, I'm going to, she thought. And I'm going to take my time about it. No rush. Let's take it nice and easy. She continued to push it up and down, occasionally poking it in her vagina entrance to give herself an extra little tease.
And all the time, he didn't stir. It was as if he were comatose, but now he began to snore softly. Boy, if he knew what he's missing, she thought.
She was getting herself really moist now, and the end couldn't be too far off. She thought about going down again to suck him, to see if anything happened, but she didn't want to interrupt the exciting advance of her approaching climax.
I'm in charge here, she told herself. I can have as many orgasms as I want....
She came in a blistering cascade of yellows and reds as she squeezed her eyes shut. She moaned softly in delight as it went through her. And still he remained undisturbed.
She got up, found a bottle of whisky and a glass on a shelf in his living room, and poured herself a drink. Then she returned to the bedroom, ready for a second orgasm. Looking at his motionless body, laying on his back with his mouth half open, she contemplated what she could do next.
She turned him over on to his stomach, very slowly, careful not to wake him up. Sitting astride his buttocks, she wished her clit was bigger, big enough to have crawled into his ass crack, so she could simulate fucking. She remembered seeing a jelly double-dildo in a sex shop recently, a sex toy used by lesbians. If she had had one, she could put the end up his asshole and the other end up inside here. Now, when she was fixing herself that drink, she had seen a fruit bowl containing a couple of bananas. Could a banana make an effective substitute...?
She climbed off the bed, went back to pick one of the fruit, and returned to stick the stalk end of the banana in his asshole. She clambered back on the bed and lowered herself slowly on to the other end of the banana, allowing it to take time to glide gently into her moist, open pussy. This was as near as she was ever going to get to giving him anal sex. She managed to gently slide the banana a couple of inches inside her, but she had to hold the other end in place in his ass as she started to grind into him. With one finger of her free hand she was rubbing her clit. She had never fucked a man this way before, and it was good.
He groaned. Was he waking up? No. He didn’t stir. She continued pushing relentlessly, oblivious to his condition. He'd still be too drunk to do anything if he woke.
Suddenly, without any warning, she climaxed. The tremor wasn't as great as the first time, but it was nonetheless very, very satisfying. Leaving the banana in place up his asshole, she pulled herself away and got dressed.
The evening hadn't turned out the way she expected it to, or wanted it to, but she made a mental note to start thinking about nice things she could do if she ever found herself in this situation again. The possibilities were endless. And falling asleep next to him wasn't an option.
She quickly drained the glass of whisky, went to the bathroom to pee and freshen up, and collected her bag. She slammed the door behind her as she left, hoping the noise would wake him up and make him feel his banana.
She’d have some explaining to do the next day when she saw Phil at the office. But, then again, maybe not....