Undressing For Dinner

Here’s a Christmas treat for you – a story I originally wrote for the All Romance E-books newsletter, in the long-ago days when that was a thing. Enjoy!

I really don’t want to go tonight. If I had the choice, I’d take the much-needed opportunity to have a quiet evening in with Mark, just snuggled on the sofa watching a trashy film and eating popcorn. Work’s been so hectic recently, it’s been almost impossible for us to spend any quality time together. But instead, it’s the company’s annual dinner, attendance as good as compulsory if I want to keep on track for that promotion I’ve been working all year to achieve. With Mark by my side, supporting me every step of the way, of course.

Photo by Gary Bahra, courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Stepping out of the bath, I wrap a towel around myself and walk into the bedroom to dress. Before I’m halfway across the room, I’m halted by the unexpectedly gorgeous sight awaiting me.

While I’ve been cooped up in the office, Mark’s been out running errands, the most important of which involved picking up the tuxedo he’s rented for the event. He’s been working from home for so long now, I can’t remember the last time I saw him in an ordinary suit, let alone the sleek, well-cut black number that adorns his long, lean frame. An air of quiet sophistication radiates from him; an aura that makes me think of secret agents and millionaire playboys. Maybe my mouth drops open for a moment as I gaze at the view he presents: thick, blond hair brushed back from his face to show off cheekbones a male model might envy and a chin that for once has been shaved clean of stubble. How have I managed to forget just how good-looking my husband is?

Desire bubbles in me; maybe not the most appropriate reaction when we’re supposed to be at the Mayweather Hotel for cocktails at eight, but I can’t help myself. A pulse beats between my legs, strong and insistent, and my pussy flushes with sticky heat. The ferocity with which I want him startles me, and I can’t help but act on it.

A woman possessed, I push Mark up against the wall, pressing my lips hard against his. Surprise flickers in his eyes, and I’m sure he’d ask what’s got into me, if only he wasn’t melting into the kiss, opening his mouth so my tongue can flicker inside. Beneath those smart dinner trousers, his cock is an all-too-obvious bulge, waiting to be freed. I don’t often take control in the bedroom, but his reaction proves how much he likes it when I do.

When we finally break the kiss, he’s torn between amusement and stating the obvious. “Hey, Nina, we’ve got a do to go to, you know.”

“I know, but it’s just you, in that suit. It – it does things to me.”

“What kind of things?” His tone is low, lascivious. Seems if I’m not bothered about the time, neither is he.

“It makes me wild – wicked.” I lick my lips, throat suddenly dry. “Makes me want to tie you to the bed and fuck you till you can’t stand it.” Where that last part came from I’m not entirely sure. It’s one of the fantasies I’ve kept hidden away, scared to voice for fear Mark might not like it. The look on his face, and the way he pulls me on to his suit-clad groin, letting me feel just how hard and excited he is, makes me wonder if I shouldn’t have shared it with him earlier.

“Oh, yeah?” His tone is cocky, like he’s taunting me in the hope I’ll turn my dirty words into actions.

“Yeah.” My cocktail dress is laid out alongside my underwear and a pair of silk stockings I’ve been saving for a formal occasion like tonight. With a shove, I propel Mark backward so he lands on the bed, pouncing on him before he has a chance to sit up. An inner wildcat I never knew I possessed has been unleashed, and again I’m kissing my husband with fierce hunger.

He reaches for the knot that holds my towel secure, trying to tug it open to reveal my naked body, but I slap his hand away. “You know what happens to naughty boys who try to peek,” I tell him, and with that I take one of the stockings, and wrap it round his wrist. He makes a token attempt to prevent me tying him to the bed rail, but we both want this far too much. The knot is an amateur effort, making it easy enough for him to wriggle free if he wanted, but he lies there like a good boy as I bind his other wrist in place.

“Now, let’s do something about these…” Unzipping his fly, I yank down his trousers, along with the tight black shorts that already bear a damp spot, more evidence of just how turned on he is. Freed from the clinging underwear, his cock points upward, almost inviting me to stroke it. The absolute picture of elegance above the waist and pure aroused male below, Mark waits for me to make my next move.

Straddling his thighs, I can feel the heat coming from him, smell the musk that is his alone. He jerks his hips, hoping I’ll get the hint and guide his length inside me, but I’m in charge now and I’ll decide when he gets his pleasure.

“Enjoying yourself, sweetheart?” I ask.

Mark just nods. His hazel eyes shine with lust and adoration as I gaze down on him, before unwrapping the towel and throwing it to the floor. My nipples are tight, ripe to the touch as I run a finger slowly over first one bud, then the other, feeling my pussy flutter in response.

“God, Nina, you look magnificent.” Those are the last words he utters before I start kissing him again, nibbling his lower lip and placing a hot trail of kisses along his throat. Our mouths are locked together as I guide him inside me, feeling his thick cock pushing up as far as it will go. I don’t move, don’t speak, just revel in the sensation of all that gloriously solid male flesh filling me to the limit.

It’s almost like the first time all over again, and once more I find myself wondering why we haven’t tried this before. Having Mark at my mercy is such a delicious thrill, and the next time we play this game I’ll make sure to tease him for as long as I can before he finally gets to fuck me. But that boring, formal dinner at the Mayweather is waiting, whether we like it or not, and so I start to shift up and down his length, rocking in a rhythm that compels him to buck his hips, trying to push himself even deeper into my hot, slick core. He tugs at his bonds, straining up to try and take a nipple in his mouth, but the stockings hold him fast, and that hint of frustration must be adding something to his pleasure. I know it’s doing the same for mine; I’m closer to the brink than simply having his cock in my pussy usually takes me, and when I drop a hand down to touch my clit, I’m lost. My breathing quickens, the tension coils in my belly, then breaks in a glorious, shattering explosion that has me calling out Mark’s name over and over, sobbing and telling him how much I love him. He comes seconds after me, the steady grip of my inner muscles milking every last drop from him.

It’s a wrench to pull myself off him, but it has to be done. We can’t stay here all night, much as we’d both like to. One last, lingering kiss, then I free Mark from his impromptu bondage.

Surveying my reflection in the dressing table mirror, I see that the hair I pinned in a careful chignon before I took my bath has come loose, dark strands tumbling around my flushed, satisfied face. And my stockings, when I examine them, are laddered, torn by the exertions of our lovemaking.

“I can’t wear these, they’re ruined.” I sigh.

Mark pauses in the act of doing up his fly. “Don’t worry about it. Your legs will look great without them.” He grins. “And don’t bother with any panties, either. We’ve played out one of your fantasies, and when we get to the hotel we’re going to play one of mine. It all starts when I reach under the tablecloth and start playing with your bare pussy…”

He doesn’t need to go any further. Looks like dinner might not be so boring, after all.

 

Tall Story

Here’s another story I wrote in my early days on Forum, where one of our unofficial office mottos was ‘we like short men, because they get there faster…’

‘Let’s face it, it’s obvious why women chase after Joe,’ Mike Gallagher said, raising his voice to be heard above the noise of the party. ‘It’s because he’s tall.’

I was tempted  to reply, ‘No, it isn’t. It’s because he’s got gorgeous brown eyes and immense charisma,’ but I didn’t. Mike seemed like a nice bloke, at least from the twenty minutes or so I’d spent talking to him, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. He wasn’t bad looking, with his curly chestnut hair and cheeky grin; he just wasn’t my type. And, to be honest, he was short. In my high heels, I just scrape over five feet. Mike was only a few inches taller than me. Whereas Joe…

Joe Walsh was every woman’s dream despatch rider. Tall and lean, with a body that was built to wear leathers. Dark hair tied back in a ponytail and a permanently stubbled chin. He was often the only bright spot in my dreary day. Hilditch and Grieve aren’t a bad firm to work for, but chartered accountants aren’t the world’s most exciting people. Anyway, working as their receptionist is only a temporary move until I find someone who’s looking for a recently qualified zoologist – or so I’ve been saying for the past eight months.

Still, it was through working at Hilditch and Grieve that I’d met Joe. I can still remember the jolt that went through me when he first slapped a parcel down on the reception desk and took off his helmet – it was like a bolt of lightning straight to the groin. I must have managed to stammer out some coherent sentence and since then we’d chatted every time he’d come in with a delivery – or rather, he’d chatted and I’d drooled. A couple of the secretaries knew about my infatuation and giggled about it whenever they passed the desk and he was there, much to my annoyance. Infatuation was all that it seemed destined to remain, until the afternoon when he’d wandered in and casually announced that he was throwing a party that weekend.

‘I’d really like you to come along, Zoe,’ he said. ‘There’ll be a few eligible men there. Do you know my mate Mike? Short geezer, curly hair, rides a Yamaha? No? Well, I’ll introduce you. You’ll like him, he’s a good laugh.’ Then he winked at me. ‘I might even drag you into the room with all the coats, if you’re lucky.’

‘Won’t your girlfriend object?’ I asked.

‘Nah, we split up a couple of weeks ago.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ I said, but inside my heart was backflipping for joy.

‘Don’t be. I’m not. The party’s to celebrate the fact.’ For a moment, I almost believed him, until I saw the grin that was threatening to split his face. He scribbled his address on a docket sheet and handed it to me. ‘It doesn’t really matter what time you get there. I intend to party all night.’

Then he was gone through the revolving door. I clutched the sheet of paper he’d given me, already planning a knock-’em-dead outfit that would ensure Joe and I ended the night together.

And we still could, if I could prevent Mike from monopolising me all evening and Joe would turn his attention away from the tall, curvy brunette he was talking to on the other side of the kitchen. As if he’d read my thoughts, he glanced over and his dark, intense eyes met my grey ones. He raised his bottle of Newcastle Brown in a silent salute. I smiled back at him, my insides churning with lust.

‘Now,’ Mike was saying, warming to his theme, ‘if I could change anything about myself, it’d probably be my height, ’cos it’d make me more desirable. You, on the other hand, would probably want bigger breasts.’ Now who was mind-reading? I thought. ‘But they wouldn’t necessarily make you more desirable. I mean, I think they’re perfect as they are. And after all, the smaller they are, the more sensitive they are.’

That was certainly true. My nipples were already stiffening with the thought of Joe running his hands over them, pinching and teasing them.

‘Honestly, Mike, you’re perfectly desirable as you are,’ I assured him, slightly embarrassed by the directness of his compliments.

‘I’ll drink to that,’ he said, draining his can of lager.

I looked across the room and saw that Joe and the brunette were no longer standing by the fridge. Probably gone to dance, I thought. I’ll just finish my wine and then I’ll go and find them, see if I can get Joe to join me in a smoochy number.

I swallowed the last mouthful of wine and put the glass down.

‘Can I get you a refill?’ Mike asked.

‘No, thanks, I’ve had more than enough,’ I replied. ‘Can you point me in the direction of the bathroom?’

‘Yeah, it’s just down the hall.’

I left him and squeezed my way through the press of bodies into the hall. The party was beginning to warm up; a couple were kissing passionately in the kitchen doorway as I passed.

I pushed open what I thought was the right door, but I wasn’t in the bathroom. Instead, I was looking into Joe’s bedroom. In the semi-darkness, I could make out a couple on the bed. The girl’s top was pulled up, revealing her heavy breasts, and her legs were wrapped around the naked back of her partner, whose tight buttocks rose and fell as he thrust into her. There was no mistaking her partner’s familiar ponytail; she was making love with Joe.

They probably weren’t aware that there was someone else in the room, but I blurted out, ‘Sorry,’ picked up my coat from the pile on the floor, which they had obviously pushed aside in their exertions, and blundered out tearfully into the hall in search of Mike.

He was where I’d left him in the kitchen. ‘I’m going home,’ I announced. ‘Do you know the number of a taxi firm?’

‘What’s wrong?’ he asked. ‘Why are you leaving?’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ I said. I couldn’t get the sight of them out of my mind.

‘Look, don’t worry about a taxi. I’ll take you home. My bike’s outside.’

I looked at Mike dubiously. ‘Is it safe?’

‘If you mean am I sober, the answer’s yes. Come on, I’ll make sure you get home in one piece.’ He took my hand, grabbed his leather jacket from where he’d slung it over the back of a kitchen chair then led me out of the flat.

Mike’s bike was parked on the road outside Joe’s flat. He took a crash helmet from the top-box and handed it to me, but before I could put it on, he caught my arm.

‘Look, why don’t you tell me what went on in there?’ He sounded genuinely concerned.

‘If you must know, I went into the bedroom by mistake, and I saw Joe and this girl…’ My voice trailed off miserably.

‘Zoe, I know how much you fancy him, but he’s just a flirt. It’s all a game to him; he can pick and choose who he wants. She’ll just be a one-night stand. He would have done the same to you, and you deserve more than that.’

‘Let’s get away from here,’ I said. I climbed up on the back of the bike behind Mike and he kicked the engine into life.

We seemed to fly through the deserted streets of the city, the night air plucking at my clothes. It was an exhilarating feeling and, with my skirt rucked up and my stocking-clad legs clinging on to Mike’s surprisingly muscular body, an arousing one, too.

The bike pulled up outside my house all too soon.

‘Thanks for the lift,’ I said.

‘Any time,’ Mike replied.

‘Why don’t you come in for a coffee?’ I suggested. ‘I know it’s late, but the girl I share with is away, so we won’t be disturbing anyone.’ I was aware of a pulse beating between my legs, more insistent than that of my heart.

The front door stuck as I tried to open it, as it has a tendency to do. Mike gave it a helpful push; I was still holding on to the handle, with the result that we fell into the hallway in a tangle of limbs. We burst out laughing, then our eyes met, closely followed by our lips. Mike pulled me to him, and our kiss became more passionate. Our tongues met, tasting the softness of each other’s mouth.

‘Come on, let’s go upstairs,’ I said. Mike needed no further prompting. I paused only to fling off my shoes and coat and then I dashed up to my room, Mike following closely behind.

Mike was kissing me again before I’d had the chance to turn on the bedroom light. As his lips traced the contours of my mouth, I was struck by how well our bodies fitted together. Normally, I either have to drag my partner down so we can kiss in a sitting position, or else stand on tiptoe and strain my neck, but with Mike there was no problem. You could almost say we were made for each other. I didn’t have much time for philosophising, though, as he was pushing the straps of my dress down over my shoulders, his mouth moving down to nibble at the nape of my neck. The heavy buckle of his belt was pressing uncomfortably into my skin and I wrenched it open. Mike paused in his exploration of my dress to heave off his boots and jeans. His erection, free of its confines, slowly grew to a respectable length.

I stepped out of my dress and stood before him in my stockings, suspenders and skimpy lace panties, originally chosen to impress Joe. Mike ran his hands over my breasts; his fingers were calloused from work and my nipples hardened at their rough feel.

‘I’ll say one thing,’ Mike murmured into my hair, ‘I was right about your breasts.’ His tongue replaced his fingers and I sighed with pleasure. One hand snaked down to touch my clitoris, rubbing the slippery bud in circles until I was more than ready for him to enter me.

Mike’s erection was warm and hard against my mound, not poking into my stomach as a taller man’s would have done. ‘Before we go any further…’ I whispered, breaking away from him. There was a packet of condoms in my bedside cabinet; I took one out and peeled back its foil wrapping.

‘Perhaps if you lay down on the bed…’ I suggested, to his obvious puzzlement. He was clearly expecting to fit it himself, but quickly realised I had other plans in mind.

I knelt over him and put my face very close to his cock, so that my hair brushed the tip. Then I planted a kiss on the glistening purple glans and carefully rolled the sheath down over his shaft.

He smiled up at me, a smile that widened to a Cheshire cat grin when I slowly lowered myself down on to his latex-clad cock. My muscles tightened around it and he gasped. I began to rock gently backwards and forwards, gyrating my hips in a rhythm that he had no choice other than to follow. He cupped my breasts in his hands, squeezing and twisting my nipples in a way that sent spasms of pure pleasure down to my womb. I moved my hips more urgently, feeling my orgasm beginning to build inside me. The fiery sensation spread through my nerve endings and I threw my head back and cried out as the feeling peaked within me and my vagina clutched and clutched again at Mike’s cock. As I struggled to regain my breath, I could feel the surge of his own climax, his heels dragging at the bedsheets as his body shook with pleasure.

We hugged each other tight, the taste of sweat on our lips as we kissed, and then he carefully slid out of me.

‘And to think I thought you were only interested in tall men,’ Mike said.

‘I told you, it doesn’t make any difference,’ I replied. ‘We’re all the same height lying down.’

‘Well, perhaps we can prove this if you lie down this time.’

And that’s when I knew that this relationship was going to be anything but short.