Monica Murphy - Three Broken Promises

“I can’t.” I dive my hands beneath her skirt and skim my fingers along the soft skin of her upper thighs and higher. Her ass is bare, she’s wearing some sort of lacy thong, and all I want to do is tear it off of her. “You’re trying to drive me absolutely insane, aren’t you?”

Her smile turns wicked again, the sight of it taking my breath away. I’m used to a feisty Jen. A friendly Jen. I’ve seen almost all of her moods, every little facet of her personality, or so I thought.

But a sexy Jen is almost too good to be true.

She licks her lips, shifting on top of me so her lower body rubs against my erect cock. Leaning in, her mouth is at my ear, her damp lips brushing it when she speaks. “I want you to fuck me in this chair.”

A bolt of lust shoots straight to my cock. I squeeze her ass, pulling her in as close as she can get. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She nods, her teeth nibbling my earlobe. “I’ve been wet for you since you interrupted Fable and me talking earlier, all bossy and demanding. God, it turns me on when you act like that.”

Okay, she is seriously blowing my mind. I had no idea she had it in her, not that I’d ever given her an opportunity to act like this with me in the past. “Well, let me see if you’re right.” I slip my fingers between her legs from behind and discover that she is most definitely wet. And hot. She moves against my fingers, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, lids at half mast, looking like the sexiest thing alive, and all I can do is watch her, too captivated to do anything else.

“Oh God. I’m going to come,” she murmurs when I slip two fingers deep inside her. She lifts her hips, riding my hand, getting herself off with my fingers, and then she’s shuddering, my name falling from her lips, her hands curled around my shoulders as she clings to me like she might tumble off my lap if she doesn’t hold on tight.

Just as I imagined, I got her off in what? A minute? Maybe two? Fucking unbelievable.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” I whisper, kissing her lips softly, reverently, my fingers still moving slowly inside her body.

She releases a shuddering breath, slipping out of my hands, off my lap. I’m momentarily confused until she kneels before me, her hands resting on my knees. Clearly indicating her plans without saying a word.

This is like my every fantasy come true. I would have rather fucked her in my chair, but having Jen on her knees in front of me after I just got her off with a few thrusts of my fingers? Amazing.

And yeah, I’m all for a blow job, but is my office door locked? If anyone can just walk in, it’s going to happen when my cock is in Jen’s mouth because come on, that’s the sort of luck I have. Shit would hit the fan and the gossip would be rampant.

“Is the door locked?” I ask, nodding toward it. The last thing I want to do is break this magical sexual spell that’s fallen over us and get up to go lock the door. Talk about spoiling the mood.

“I locked it when I came in.” She reaches for the button on my pants, undoing it with ease. “So don’t worry, no one can walk in on us. It’s just me. And you.”

I hold my breath when her fingers brush against my stomach. She slides the zipper down on my pants, then spreads the fly wide, exposing my cock straining against dark gray cotton. She curls her fingers around me, squeezing gently, her gaze locked on my boxer briefs.

Conflict ripples through me. I want her to be quick and get to it, yet I also want her to take her sweet time so I can savor this sexy-as-hell moment between us.

“You’re big,” she whispers, her gaze lifting to meet mine.

Smiling, I reach out and cup her cheek, pleasure sweeping through me when she turns and places a kiss to my palm. “Every man appreciates that type of compliment.”

Jen rolls her eyes and I drop my hand from her face. She grips the waistband of my boxer briefs at my hips. “It’s true, though. You’re definitely the biggest I’ve ever seen.”

I barely contain my scowl. Damn, I hate when she talks about other guys, which she seems to do quite often, and so casually, too. I know I’m a total commitment-phobe, but I’m starting to realize she is too. I don’t recall her ever being with anyone in a long-term relationship. Not even in high school.

I’m both curious to know her sexual history and not interested whatsoever. Only a glutton for punishment would ask her such a thing.

So I let it alone.

“My break’s over in less than ten minutes,” she says, a saucy smile curling her lips, her fingers teasing my abs. “And my boss is kind of a hard-ass, so I don’t want to make him mad.”

“Is he now? And what will he do to you if you’re late coming off your break?” I sit up straight, lifting my hips when she starts to pull my underwear down. I’m left sitting before her in my shirt with my pants and briefs in a heap around my ankles, my erect cock pointing directly at her.

“I don’t know. Fire me?” She laughs as she strokes my cock with feather-light precision, her delicate fingers dancing over my sensitive skin, my belly, the insides of my thighs. Anticipation curls through me, driving me fucking insane with every pass of her fingers, and finally, she leans in, brushing her mouth across the head of my cock.

If I could, I’d keep her on hand as my personal sex slave. Because damn, her touch, her mouth, her everything feels so fucking good . . .

I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes at the sensation of her lips slowly taking me inside her mouth. Her tongue licks, her mouth sucks, and soon she’s bobbing up and down on me, her hands gripping my thighs, her lips tight and hot and working me into a frenzy in a matter of seconds.

She hums in pleasure around my cock and I jerk in her grip, ready to come, not embarrassed at how quick she made that happen. We’ve both been riding the edge all night. The past few hours out in the restaurant have been nothing but torturous foreplay.

Lifting her lids, her gaze meets mine, hot and dark and completely unreadable. I want to say something, anything, ask her what the fuck she’s thinking, what the hell is she doing to my head since I’m not thinking the way I usually do. She’s a trip. The two of us together, we’re a complete trip and I want it to continue.

So what’s stopping me?

Pushing all negative thoughts from my mind, I concentrate on Jen. What she’s doing to me with her skilled lips and tongue, how much she seems to enjoy pleasuring me. She slowly releases my cock from her mouth, her tongue darting out to tease at the tip, circling around the flared head, not missing a spot.

And still her gaze never leaves mine.

Fuck, that’s it. I can’t take it. I’m coming, all over her lips, her tongue. She drinks it in, her mouth back on me, easing me through my orgasm, and when it’s finally over I slump in my seat, shocked at the exhaustion that settles over me. My body’s languid and I feel drowsy, completely spent.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she stands, smiling down at me. “Was that okay for you?”

Okay is the understatement of the century. I can hardly form words, let alone lift myself out of the fucking chair. “Uh . . . yeah. It was fucking amazing, Jen,” I manage to choke out.

Her smile grows and she tilts her head. “So I guess my work here is done.”

“I’ll say,” I mutter as I lean over and grab some tissues from the box on my desk. I clean myself up, then stand and start to pull my clothes back on.

Laughing, she turns away from me, heading toward the door. “I need to get back to work before my boss punishes me for taking too long of a break.”

Her choice of words is certainly intriguing. “All this talk of being in trouble makes me wonder. Do you want to be punished?” I ask.

She pauses at the door, her hand gripping the handle fiercely. She keeps her back to me. “What are you talking about?”

“Are you into that ‘I’m a bad girl, please punish me’ type of thing?” I’m really not. I’ve always preferred to be the dominant one in the bedroom. I enjoy taking command. Sometimes I’ll even get a little rough, though nothing too extreme. Pull hair. Bite plump, sweet skin, then devour all that wet, hot flesh.

Just thinking about doing all of that and more to Jen has me growing hard again. Unbelievable.

“I never thought I was,” she admits, slowly turning to face me. She smiles, her eyes wild with desire and some other foreign emotion I don’t recognize. “But I could be. With you.”

Well, fuck. That confession just filled my overactive imagination with all sorts of ideas.

Jen

The shackles of my recent past have slowly been loosened, allowing me to be free with Colin. I can almost forget all of the shameful things I did during such a scary, desperate time. A time I’d rather push from my memories forever, but I still can’t, no matter how hard I try. Stripping for a living gave me a sort of freedom I’ve never experienced before. I felt powerful, at least at first.

Giving myself to men in the backseat of their car for fifty dollars had left me feeling powerless. The contradiction had been . . . confusing.

But nothing filled me with so much power as when I was with Colin. I am on a sexual high and I have no regrets over what I’ve done with him. It’s liberating. Funny how I thought leaving Colin would bring me the escape and freedom I needed. Maybe I was wrong.

Having sex with Colin, finally letting down my guard and showing him all the many things I want to do to him? How I feel about him?

That’s beyond liberating.

Not that I can tell him how I feel about him with words, no way. That would just freak him out, the very last thing I want to do. But I can show him. Oh, how I can show him! Which I’ve done. Repeatedly. I worried it might be awkward between Colin and me after the first time we had sex, but, um . . . no. It is definitely not awkward.