Fast And Loose. Justine Elyot

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Fast And Loose - Justine  Elyot


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      ‘I told you. No. Do they have the carrot cake today?’

      She fell for my diversionary tactic, and the rest of the lunch break passed without further reference to Mr Crowley.

      I wasn’t usually a clock-watcher but all afternoon my eye slipped repeatedly to the lower righthand corner of my screen, watching the minutes mount slowly, oh, so slowly, towards the golden hour of six o’clock.

      If he was going to be waiting for me in the lobby, how was I going to hide our liaison from Tilda? A guilty part of me thought that I should just be upfront with her about it, but I couldn’t be bothered with the inevitable eye-rolling disappointment, not to mention the lecture, my honesty would provoke.

      In the event, it worked out quite well. Tilda was held up in conversation by the editor, on his way back into the office after some kind of big corporate sponsorship meeting in town, and slightly drunk, so I was able to sneak away on the dot of six.

      In the lift, I fidgeted and jiggled around with my underwear, making sure it was exactly as prescribed. The flutter in my stomach competed against my better judgement, which was trying to tell me he wouldn’t be there. He was unreliable. Tilda had painted me the picture. I shouldn’t get my hopes up.

      All the same, I fussed with my hair and makeup and rotated my ankle before leaving the lift. Happily, my limp was almost completely gone and I was able to walk out into the lobby with a confident stride.

      Tom was leaning over the reception desk, chatting to the woman on duty, showing her something on his phone. The sight of him sent a plume of excitement up from the pit of my stomach, frothing out to every extremity.

      He was here after all!

      His eyes flicked away from the receptionist and towards me, setting off his irresistible smile.

      ‘On the dot, Miss Cox,’ he said. ‘Precise as always.’

      ‘I like to be punctual,’ I said, the words spilling from my mouth unfiltered. Could the receptionist see my nipples through my shirt? We had to get out of here.

      He seemed to understand this, straightening up and bidding a polite goodbye to the receptionist.

      I followed him to the doors.

      ‘Where are we going?’ I asked in a whisper.

      ‘Never mind,’ he murmured, taking my hand as we hurried down the steps to the street.

      Rather than head left for the car park or right for the city centre, he pulled me into the narrow alleyway that stood between the newspaper offices and the conveniently situated pub next door. It was full of empty kegs and crates, and very little light squeezed into the space, which could just about fit Tom and me side by side.

      ‘Wha–?’ I started to say, but Tom already had me up against the wall with his hands on my shirt buttons, unfastening them with speedy determination.

      ‘I’ve been thinking about this all day,’ he said, sighing with pleasure as my uncupped breasts were revealed. ‘Oh, you did. Oh, you good girl. Bad girl. Whatever.’

      He squeezed them in eager hands, then bent to nuzzle them, exhaling deeply into the space between the peaks.

      I was too taken aback to register much beyond what was happening at first. He had a nipple in his mouth before it occurred to me that people were passing by, mere yards away in the open street, and any one of them might choose to peer into the alleyway at any moment.

      ‘Tom,’ I gasped. ‘What if we’re seen?’

      ‘We won’t be. Tell me you’ve been like this all day. You didn’t just pull it down five minutes ago, to meet me?’

      ‘I’ve been like it all day, I promise.’ I looked sideways, anxiously, but he took my face in his hand and wrenched it back to face him.

      ‘Don’t worry about them,’ he said, his voice suddenly so commanding – almost harshly so – that I was stunned into compliance. ‘I want your full attention, and I’m going to have it. I’ll take the rap if anyone challenges us. OK?’

      ‘OK,’ I whispered, rapt and captivated.

      ‘Good. Now raise your skirt. I want to see if you can do as you’re told.’

      The temptation to peek sideways and make sure we were unobserved was almost overwhelming, but I managed to keep my eyes fixed on Tom’s while I raised the hem of my tight skirt slowly up my thighs.

      When he saw my tights, pulled down to mid-thigh, he made a growly noise in the back of his throat.

      ‘Well, I was hoping for stockings, but that’ll do for now,’ he said hoarsely.

      ‘I don’t wear stockings to work,’ I apologised.

      ‘You didn’t,’ he corrected, and my fingers slipped on my skirt lining at the implication. ‘You’ve been walking around like that all day? Wasn’t it uncomfortable?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Good. Higher, then. I’m waiting.’

      I had to take care not to tear the silken underskirt, so it took me a little while to bare myself to his satisfaction. Just as my hem reached the very tops of my thighs, I couldn’t resist a swift glance to the alley opening. It was done before I even knew it, but Tom tut-tutted.

      ‘That’s one minute,’ he said obliquely.

      ‘One minute?’

      ‘You’ll see. Ah. Yes.’ My skirt was fully raised now and the concrete wall of the office chilled my bottom. ‘Bare-arsed in a public thoroughfare. You can’t help yourself, can you?’

      He pressed himself hard against me, grinding his denim-clad crotch into my unclothed pussy. His mouth clamped on mine for a hot, tongue-thrusting kiss. His fingertips pushed into the soft roundness of my bum cheeks, squeezing and kneading.

      I no longer cared about passers-by. I wanted him to rip off my tights and fuck me there and then. It wouldn’t matter if half the population of the city crowded in to watch us. They could take their fill. I needed my fill.

      I reached blindly for Tom’s jeans button, but he pushed my hand away and held it fast around the wrist.

      ‘When I’m ready,’ he said warningly, letting my wrist drop and pushing his fingers between my legs. I clung to him, seeking his mouth again so my own breath could shudder into it while he fingered my swelling clit for all to see.

      He cupped my mound, working his fingers into a rhythm, easing them back and forth and over my sensitive bud until my legs shook.

      ‘Mm,’ he crooned into my ear. ‘Been waiting for it, have you? All day long?’

      I replied in a sequence of grunts and gasps.

      ‘I’m going to have you sucking my cock on your knees in this alley,’ he said. ‘You’re going to wear holes in those tights before I’m done with you.’

      I wanted to kneel to him right now, to take what he had to give me, to worship his cock in front of everyone in town. I was shaking all over, my vision blurred, my orgasm on its way, sending sparks down the line in advance.

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