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o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
o This part of my collection offers a very wide variety of stories. o
o They have been submitted by people from all over the world. Also from o
o alt.sex.stories (Newsgroups). There is no particular order to this o
o section of my collection, other than offering them to you in alpha- o
o betical directories. o
o I don't believe in categorizing things. "I don't want to be typed o
o therefore I don't type things myself." I think it's a lot more fun to o
o browse around and find 'little' surprises, and topics that you might o
o not have even thought of looking for. I hope you enjoy your time among o
o Kristen's book shelf directories. o
o Lest we forget!!! This story was produced as adult entertainment o
o and should not be read by minors. Thank you, Kristen Becker o
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Adrienne a la Mode (MF, rom)
By Cynthia (Versutiae@aol.com)
* All original material and characters herein copyright 1997 by the
author. All rights reserved by the author. Post only to free sites. *
* This story contains explicit sexual activity between adults. Please
do not read it if you are under 18, or below the age of consent in
your country/state of residence. *
Adrienne surveyed the wreckage of dinner with a satisfied smile and
tipped the glass to her lips again. "A lovely trap," she thought,
bubbles dancing down her throat.
She righted the glass and held it before her face, considering her
husband over the rim. The champagne was doing what it did best,
loosening mental shirt buttons and splitting emotional zippers. Even
with stress fizzing away, he was a still little manic, a little
nervous. Her eyes were to blame; they were burning the clothes from
his body one layer at a time.
Tim had been home little more than an hour, and already the tension
between them was dangerous. For the last twenty minutes, she had
watched him jabber excitedly about work while he devoured her coq au
vin. She only hoped she was next.
Adrienne ran her hand through the lazy waves of her short, black hair
and set down her glass. A sleeveless, black dress hugged her body,
tracing every decadent curve. While not her usual fare, it was fun to
wear when he most needed distracting. She wiggled her behind, the
dress a little too familiar there. The constant feel of being groped
aroused her, thinning her patience.
Random spokes of hair hung over her blue-green eyes. She brushed them
aside, leaving no mystery as to the nature of her stare. Tim kept
talking, avoiding the trap of her eyes. Her thick, arching eyebrows
were her deadly lures. They made her look constantly and unnervingly
inquisitive. Even at her most relaxed, even when asleep, she seemed to
be prying apart secrets.
If that was not enough, she could make every glance, every gesture,
every breath erotic. It just came naturally to her. It was no wonder
her classes had nearly perfect attendance rates.
Adrienne had thrown together the candles, jazz and dinner in the hope
of luring him away from the week, if only for a few minutes. So many
things vied for her attention, but this night was invaluable, not to
be squandered.
A mountain of papers and student poetry loomed around the corner, but
she had no intention of scaling it until morning. Her literary ropes
and pitons were packed up for the night. That he could not let go of
work himself both challenged and aroused her. He had come hundreds of
miles to sit before her and was still out of reach.
He regaled her with yet another anecdote from his business trip to
Toledo, gesturing absently with his spoon, dotting his tie with drips
of vanilla ice cream. She laughed but nodded along with his story.
She didn't care much about what went on in Toledo, but she was excited
to see him again, to have more than five uninterrupted minutes with
him. His unease was peculiar. His voice was like a feather waggling
nervously against her ears, teasing out her laughter despite her
attempts to look interested.
He was still wearing his blazer, and that annoyed her a little. It was
like a shell he wore, an armored chunk of that dull office world that
swallowed him up day to day. It was something out of which he had to
be coaxed.
He tugged at his collar and wetted his throat before continuing. He
looked like a man in a soured job interview. Although she knew she was
to blame, she did not think she looked that predatory. However, she
loved that she could still make him uneasy with a glance.
Despite the prelude that the dinner really was--a neon arrow blinking
at her body--he had to be lured from the cold order of work to the
seething chaos of her eyes. The climate change was a bit daunting.
His relentless chatter was cathartic for him, a means by which he
could slowly peel away the layers of the work week. She knew that he
wanted her and that his stress held him in check. He had trouble
letting go; work always had its claws in him. She hated that jacket.
"Contents under pressure" should have been stenciled across it.
He kept talking, sparing almost no detail. Adrienne bit her lip.
Devious thoughts simmered in her mind. She sipped from her glass and
laid it before her. Her hands vanished beneath the table. She wriggled
in her seat, all the while wearing her "don't worry--I'm listening"
face. Brow furrowed, he continued sketching out proposals and
opportunities and market shares, all of the prattle in which he swore
he could never take an interest.
Settled once again in her chair, Adrienne sighed, hands hidden,
eyebrows raised in a "my, that is interesting" pose. She let him talk
for a while and then casually laid her panties next to her salad fork.
Tim stopped dead in mid-sentence, his words piling up behind him like
derailed train cars.
A devilish smirk crawled toward her ear. As he sat there blinking,
speechless for the first time since coming home, she let her quiet
magic work on him.
Silence hovered over the table. Adrienne could almost hear the flames
sucking away at the candles. Her nipples pushed hard against the
cotton of her dress. She wanted so much to touch them.
She looked down at her neglected dessert. Raspberries lounged on the
little dune of ice cream and waded in the shallow, white sea
surrounding it. She steeped the tip of her middle finger in the melted
portion, drawing it out slowly. From the short, unpolished nail to the
first knuckle, a glob of vanilla coated her fingertip.
She stared into him as her hand descended out of his sight and into
her lap. A shiver roamed her body, pinching her thick lips into a pout
and flaring her eyes. She blew a single, breathy moan across the
table at him. Smiling wickedly, one eyebrow cocked, she lifted her
hand into the candlelight. The finger was clean.
Held tight in the clench of his face, his slate eyes looked about to
shatter. He was completely dazed. Watching the muscles in his neck
tense, the wordless moving of his mouth, Adrienne worried she had
finally taken teasing to a lethal level and given him a heart attack.
His mouth suddenly tilted in the randiest smirk she had ever seen.
Full of wanting, his eyes raked over her body. She was almost afraid
of what she had awoken.
Tim rose and chuckled at himself. He shrugged off his jacket and
kicked it away. Adrienne grinned, overjoyed to see him finally shed
that workaday skin. His whole demeanor changed. He was alive again but
shaky, a drowned man resuscitated.
He stalked around the table, stepping peculiarly, as though his
pockets were filled with needles. She laughed when she realized it was
due to the rigid bulge in his pants. His own laughter died when he
finally saw what the table had hidden.
Her dress was tugged up over her hips, bunched around her waist, the
smooth wood of the seat cool against her bottom. Her long, pale legs
arched down to black, flat-soled shoes, which she tapped anxiously on
the hardwood floor.
He leaned over her, challenging her eyes. When he seemed about to
speak, to apologize for neglecting her, she stopped him, her fingers
lighting on his lips.
"Such a busy mouth," she said, her first words in half an hour. The
vestige of a childhood in Belgium still lingered in her voice, chasing
it with a subtle and provocative accent. Despite a lifetime in
America, she always had a foreign mystique. "Put it to good use."
She carefully straightened his tie and licked her lips, her eyes
heavily-lidded. Tim knew her serious-business look. "Get to work."
Adrienne scooted her chair away from the table. Tim knelt before her
and leaned in close, the dark triangle of curls pointing the way. He
hummed wickedly when he realized her clitoris, full and inviting, was
dabbed with vanilla.
Beneath the sweet smell, the scent of her teased him, making him ache.
Hands on her thighs, he pushed her legs apart and wrapped his lips
around her clitoris, sucking gently, rhythmically. Adrienne instantly
moaned away all of her breath. Clutching the chair, she braced
herself for his tongue. When she felt it lash back and forth behind
his lips, licking away the ice cream, air crashed back into her lungs
with a gasp.
He sucked the little nub harder, trying to pull her entire body into
his mouth. In moments, the vanilla succumbed to her strong, gingery
taste, and Tim tugged harder at her, adoring it. Adrienne stamped her
feet and moaned at the ceiling. She imagined herself burning from the
inside out.
She squinted down at him, tousling his hair with shaky hands. He
sucked relentlessly, his nose burrowed into her black curls, his sharp
breaths tickling through them. His eyes smiled up at her.
Leaving her with one last promissory kiss, Tim leaned back to catch
his breath. His chin had a telltale shine. Adrienne leered drunkenly
at him, amazed. Unable to take it any longer, he unzipped his trousers
and freed his cock, stroking it anxiously. She loved watching him do
that, flattered that the taste of her could make him so hard, so
desperate for touch.
Hungry herself, she strummed her clitoris with her long fingers,
moaning along with him. For several minutes, they watched each other
pleasure themselves. Close to the edge, Tim stopped. They shared an
old, familiar laugh when she found it hard to take her own hand away.
The laughter felt as good as anything else.
Raising an eyebrow, Tim laid his hand on the seat between her legs,
palm up. She sighed decadently, anticipating what he was about to do.
She rose just a few inches off the chair and waited. When Tim's middle
finger stood up straight, she lowered herself onto it, so wet she felt
little more than an erotic tickle as it entered.
Knowing that he wanted to tease out the moment and torture her, she
scowled at him. In an instant, his long finger was thrumming inside
her, rapidly waggling back and forth. Adrienne sang to the ceiling
again, her voice vibrating at his finger's tempo. Sharp pleasure
squeezed her eyes shut.
She brushed and tugged her nipples through her dress. They were tall
and achingly sensitive, stirring a delicious sting into her pleasure.
Tim grinned up at her, his finger trilling without pause. A heavy,
crackling warmth spread through her body, stretching all the way to
her toes.
Nearing the edge, Adrienne ground her ass against the seat, pushing
him as deep as she could. Although his arm was beginning to ache, Tim
moved faster. He was rewarded with a high, throaty moan. Her hips
trembled, and fire blossomed between her legs.
Her hands abruptly went to the seat, latching tightly. She whimpered,
teetering on the brink, and moaned like a siren as she tumbled into
orgasm. Adrienne thrashed against the back of the chair, her nerves
burning up. Completely out of control, deep in the throes, she gyrated
upon the seat.
Within a few moments, her body seized up one last time before
collapsing with a sigh. Tim smiled and moved his hand out from under
her, counting himself lucky his finger was not broken. She grinned
back at him, her eyes promising to return the favor threefold. She was
impressed; whenever she seemed to have caught her breath, it danced
out of her reach again.
"It's your turn in the chair," she whispered, standing and tugging her
dress back into place. They exchanged positions. Tim's cock stood tall
and rigid from his lap. Adrienne smirked at it and laid his hands on
the sides of the seat. "You'd better hold on tight," she said.
>From just a breath away, she stared at his cock, watching it hunger.
>She tried to
imagine what it felt like to be so hard, so confined. It amazed her.
Over a week's worth of tension coiled in one place. She knew he got so
wrapped up in work on his trips that he didn't masturbate. She had
gotten him to do it over the phone a few times but only with a lot of
provocation. Unless she was there to inspire him directly, desire was
just something that silently knotted him up, making him cranky.
Adrienne masturbated often, finding more inspiration than she could
handle during the course of a day. Poetry was not the only product of
her sensual nature. Textures, tastes and sounds swirled around her
daily, stirring her up inside until she had to do something about it.
She wished it came half as naturally to him.
His cock twitched, ticking away his pulse. She wondered if she even
needed to touch him, if she could simply make him come with her voice.
"That might be fun to try sometime," she thought.
She splayed her left hand on his pelvis, and he winced. The muscles
beneath her hand were strained taut. It was as though his cock was
pulling away from his body. Adrienne leered up at him, her eyebrows
daring him to beg.
"Ade," he whispered. "Please."
She wrapped her right hand around him and clenched her fingers. Tim
groaned, and his entire body stretched toward her hand. He was iron in
her grasp.
A telltale glisten appeared on the tip, warning of the deluge to come.
"He'll be lucky to survive thirty seconds," she thought, a little
disappointed but thoroughly flattered.
She laid a feather of a kiss upon the very end, savoring that first
anxious drop. She wondered why it was so different from the
horrible-tasting rush ahead. No matter how he pleaded, she would not
do that again, would not take that in her mouth. She had forever
closed the doors on the argument by saying, "You try it, and then
we'll talk."
Adrienne stroked him slowly: up and down, up and down. She rotated her
hand a little so that her fingers slithered around him with every rise
and fall. Tim lay back with his eyes closed, moans rising like smoke
from his open mouth. Every time her hand moved, his body shook as
though suffering tiny shocks.
Just when he seemed to be building up for release, she let go of him,
laying her right hand next to her left on his stomach. She waited. Tim
cracked an eye and smiled meekly at her. Her thick lips stretched out
in the most remarkable grin.
Without warning, her mouth was around him, engulfing him, taking him
in all the way to the base. Back arched, toes curled, Tim howled at
the ceiling. Adrienne hummed around him, pleased with herself. She
clenched her lips around him and drew away from him slowly, inch by
inch.
When only the tip of him was in her mouth, she gave it a hard suck.
Tim groaned, thrusting up at her, trying to push himself farther into
her mouth. She held on hard with her mouth, refusing to allow him
deeper, her head bobbing along with his hips. When he stopped, she
took him all the way in again. This time she held him there, sucking
on him like a straw, luxuriating in his moans. He quivered in her
mouth. She loved the sensation. She loved him.
Still surrounding him utterly, she tickled the base of his cock with
her tongue. He laughed achingly, prying open his eyes. She was staring
at him-- into him--through her sharp, black bangs. Her eyes reflected
everything from confidence to cruelty to love. She raised a bushy
eyebrow like a warning flag. He clutched onto the seat.
Adrienne suddenly bobbed her head, noisily sucking at him. She moved
so quickly, his nerves couldn't keep up with the sensations. She held
the very tip of him between her lips one moment and tickled her chin
against his balls the next. He felt as though she was literally
sucking the energy from his body.
He throbbed against her tongue, wringing up harder than before.
Abruptly, he was out of her mouth, quivering in front of her. She
sighed heavily, catching her breath, and took his cock, warm and wet,
tightly in hand.
She jerked hard, emulating the movement of her mouth. Tim stuttered,
howling his way over the edge. She loved this moment: when the sluice
gates opened and all the stress and tension in him rushed out. He
pulsed wildly, but she held on, yanking his orgasm from him.
He seized up and released, draping a long, white stripe through her
hair. Startled, she laughed and glanced up at her hair in mock
annoyance. She would be ready for the next burst. She jerked harder,
shaking the come out of him. Spurt after spurt leapt from him,
covering her hands and his lap.
She laughed in amazement. A week's worth of stress had poured from
him... and made rather a mess.
When his breath returned, she let go of him, and he slouched in the
chair. She snatched her napkin from the table and dabbed at her hair,
laughing. Humming to herself, she wiped her glistening hands and
pitched the spent napkin aside.
She grabbed her panties and draped them around his drooping cock. She
worked the cotton against his skin, delighting in the exhausted,
"please--no more" grunts and groans her touch provoked. She carefully
cleaned him up, soaking her panties with his strange, seashore scent.
She dropped them and climbed to her feet, leaning over to kiss him.
The spice of her was on his lips, and she adored it, wishing his come
tasted more like that and less like insecticide.
"Thirsty?" she asked, drawing away from him. Tim nodded blearily. She
stretched and walked to the end of the table, her shoes clicking on
the hardwood floor. She picked up the champagne bottle and sauntered
back toward him, her smirk leading the way.
Grace suddenly abandoned her as she slipped on her wilted panties and
toppled into his lap. The bottle wobbled at the foot of the chair,
coming to a rest upright, not a drop spilled. They both burst into
laughter, shaking against each other in the candlelight.
As the giggles began to wane, he patted her affectionately on the
behind, signaling for her to get up. Adrienne went quiet.
"Spank me," she said, arching her back to look him in the eye. He
chuckled, but the champagne veil had lifted for the moment. She was
serious.
"What?" She had him off-balance again... and delighted in it.
She lowered her head and stared at him through the black veil of her
bangs. She steeped her voice in the warmest of her fantasies and blew
it at him like smoke. "Spank me."
"Ade. Come on. It's the champagne talking," he said, uncertain. "You
don't want me to do that." However, he knew she was still in charge,
still lucid, and that made him all the more nervous. The champagne
might have tickled her voice and her skin, but her eyes were still
clear and incisive.
She never ceased to amaze him. Here was this accomplished poet, this
respected professor, asking him to spank her. From the lofty to the
lusty, there was nothing she could not do. Her range was unnerving.
She knew she would have to provoke him again. He always slipped back a
little after he came, his driven passion fading into drowsy
pensiveness.
Still holding his eye, she slowly pulled back the hem of her dress,
baring her voluptuous behind to the candlelight. She ran her hand
adoringly over the curves, smiling disarmingly. Her ass was a monument
to decadence. She knew how he gawked at it when she was fresh out of
the shower in the morning, how he loved watching it quiver when he
took her from behind, grabbing and groping it at every chance. She
knew its power over him.
He stared numbly, savoring every curve. The tiny, X-shaped scar on her
left buttock inspired a smile. As a child, she had caught herself on a
barbed-wire fence while nipping grapes from a neighbor's vineyard. She
told him often how the sweet taste had been worth the pain.
Adrienne slowly and rhythmically clenched her behind, trying to entice
him, but sensed his uncertainty. She would have to play tough to lure
him into her fantasy.
"You know," she said, her voice low and husky, "it's been so long
since you've made love to me that I've taken to fantasizing about
everyone in your office when you're out of town."
He sat stark still, dumbfounded. He knew how voracious her mind was,
and that worried him. Adrienne smirked. She hoped she could embellish
enough to draw him.
She wiggled her ass and casually lifted her glass from the table with
her left hand. When she teetered on his lap, he absently clapped his
hand on her thigh to steady her. She lifted the bottle from the floor
and topped her glass.
"Seriously?" he said, a tiny needle of hurt popping the champagne
bubbles.
"Seriously," she said into the glass as she sipped. Her eyes seethed.
She licked a stray drop from her lips. "In my mind, I've come with
each and every one of them. Several times."
"Ade, don't play games..."
"I had Steve take me from behind while I was draped over your desk."
"Steve? My best friend? Ade, he would never..."
"He would never," she confirmed. "In fact, I seem to recall him
yelling, 'I can't do this to Tim's wife!' just before he came all over
me, all over this naughty ass." She raised a challenging eyebrow and
casually took another sip. She watched his face change, watched his
emotional scales wobble up and down.
Tim was clearly taken aback. His hand tensed, clenching her thigh,
rising almost imperceptibly. She hummed into her glass.
He frowned down at her. "Who else, Ade?"
"Well, there are so many. It's hard to keep track. Throw out some
names."
He felt completely trapped. "Ben Rouse?"
"Your boss?" she said, biting her lip and rolling her eyes across the
ceiling.
She smiled. "Tallish fellow? Always looks like he's just missed his
train by ten seconds?"
"Yes..."
She smirked so hard a dimple rose on her cheek. "I sucked him in the
elevator." Tim's eyes swam. Adrienne warmed up her voice some more,
intensifying her accent. "We got on on the thirteenth floor, and he
got off on the third." His hand rose a little more, cradling her left
buttock. He could not believe she would be so shameless with her
fantasies.
"Well, then there's always Bob."
"Bob from Accounting?!" he snapped, completely nonplused. "The Star
Trek guy?! Beam-Me-Up Bob?!"
"I bet he has a huge cock," she cooed. "And do you know where I want
it?" She dipped two fingertips in her champagne and, leering up at
him, rubbed them against her asshole in lazy circles. "Right there."
A bittersweet rage boiled up through him. He smacked her sharply on
the behind, making it quiver. The blow shook her whole body. The
champagne sloshed in the glass. Adrienne winced for but a moment then
moaned luxuriously.
Instantly taking on a ruddy glow, her ass looked even prouder to him.
Before she could catch her breath, his hand crashed into her again.
The sensation was delicious. When her moan trailed off, she casually
sipped her champagne, unimpressed, her eyebrows high and haughty.
Infuriated, Tim shifted, holding her firmly in his lap, his left arm
draped across the small of her back and around her hip. In rapid
succession, he swatted one buttock and then the other, sending ripples
through her flesh. Adrienne groaned in ecstasy, in realization of her
fantasy.
Relentlessly, he warmed her behind, the soft smacks echoing about the
room. Despite being tricked into the role, being goaded to her whim,
he was careful. Each blow was little more than a pat, just enough to
give her a little, well-deserved sting but not enough to hurt.
Adrienne loved it, moans hiccupping from her with every swat. Her
behind blushed in the candlelight, adoring his hand. She smiled to
herself when she felt his cock slowly stiffening against her belly.
Moaning and laughing, she kicked her feet when he began spanking her
in earnest, paddling her with his gentle hand. The blush spreading
across her behind spread inside her as well, singeing her, making her
very wet.
When at last he stopped, she reached back and ran her hand over the
warm, quivering curves. Her breaths fell heavily, and she shot him a
wild, appreciative look. She had nearly come.
Tim retraced the course of her hand, enjoying the heat of her skin.
Adrienne moaned at the floor, her behind just tender enough to make
every caress arousing to her. As his fingers glided over her, tremors
rode her body, and her ass clenched invitingly. He smirked. It was his
turn to surprise her.
He looked up at the table. A little lump of ice cream remained in her
dish, a little iceberg in a swollen, white sea. The raspberries had
drowned. He dipped his fingers in the cool cream and rubbed it on her
toasted behind.
Adrienne cooed. The ice cream made her ass feel that much hotter.
Slowly, teasingly, he covered her warm behind with vanilla, smoothing
it all around her. Besides being intensely aroused, she felt
cherished. She relaxed, savoring the cool strokes.
Tim raked his eyes over her lovely behind while soaking his middle
finger in ice cream. He smiled at the cleft between her cruelly
curvaceous cheeks, his mind exploring with his eyes. When his finger
was thoroughly covered and achingly cold, he pressed it into her ass.
Adrienne's head flew up, and a long, throaty moan shook from her
mouth. She clenched hard, which only pushed his finger deeper. The
contrast of the heat on her skin and the cold inside her nearly pushed
her over the edge. She loved his finger there, loved the way it sucked
the heat and the pleasure from her body.
Trying to bluff him, to make it seem as though she was bored, she
tried to take a casual sip of champagne. Hands shaky with pleasure,
she missed her mouth and popped her nose into the glass. She laughed
at herself and gave in, giving voice to the deeper moans she had held
back. He was harder than ever against her stomach.
He moved his finger slowly, drawing out her moans. Wanting to hear
more of her beautiful, husky cries, he gave her random swats with his
free hand, complicating her pleasure, pushing her toward release. He
was amazed with himself, amazed he had become entangled in her
fantasy. He loved all this, and she knew it. She was deviously cunning
when it came to getting what she wanted.
She was tight around his finger. The aching cold dwindled away
quickly, leaving him feeling only the quivering heat of her body. He
could feel the warning shivers in her even before she cried out for
him to stop.
All at once, Adrienne wriggled out of his grasp and scrambled to her
feet. She laid the glass on table and turned toward him. Her breathing
erratic, her eyes wild, she closed his legs and straddled them,
hovering over him. Her dress drooped over her thighs, and she tugged
it roughly above her waist, rolling it under until it stayed in place.
Startling him, she clapped her hands on chair's high back and glared
at him through a ragged veil of bangs. Her intensity unnerved him.
Feeling the warmth of her brushing the tip of his cock, he shot her a
look of appeal. Adrienne smiled, kissed him tenderly and reassuringly
on the nose and engulfed him, her ass crashing warm and sticky into
his lap.
Air silently vanished from his lungs, and he sat still as pleasure
loomed up over him, eclipsing everything. Adrienne, on the other hand,
growled at full voice, rolling her hips, pressing harder, savoring him
savagely.
Absolutely driven, she pistoned upon him, repeatedly pushing herself
up with her toes and letting her full weight fall hard on his lap. The
chair creaked as she bounced upon him. The candles threw a strange,
bobbing shadow on the wall behind them.
Holding onto her waist, Tim could do little but weather her storm.
Overwhelmed as he was, he could barely even make a sound. He felt
utterly used... and did not mind a bit.
Every impact spread a tingling sting through her ass that she adored.
Desperate for more, she came down upon him harder and harder, driving
him deeper thanhe had ever been. The chair groaned. Lightning danced
throughout her body.
Sliding his hands up to the sides of her breasts, Tim pushed at
Adrienne's nipples with his thumbs. The fabric heightened the
sensation, adding a bittersweet friction that made her back arch, her
thighs twitch.
She was so warm, so wet. He was so hard, so deep. They both ached from
the pleasure, their faces pinched comically. They would have laughed
had their eyes not been squeezed shut.
Holding back as best he could, Tim waited for her, every moment
fighting the urge to explode. The pressure building in him made him
harder, giving her a greater sense of being filled, making her come.
Adrienne's eyebrows scrunched together, the pressure bearing down
heavily upon her before sweeping her away. She slammed into his lap
one last time and ground down on him, clenching her behind tightly to
hold him at that fantastic depth.
A molten sensation seethed between her legs, pouring fire into her
arms and her legs. Head back, she whimpered and moaned, singing out
her ecstasy.
Dragged over the edge, Tim erupted inside her. He grimaced, yelling,
the release so great it almost hurt. He held her steady as pangs of
pleasure knocked her body about. In moments, they were crumpled
against each other, shuddering and murmuring and stroking each other's
hair.
As breath returned and shivers fell silent, they talked and laughed,
exhausted. It was time for a shower and who knew what afterward.
Still holding him inside her, Adrienne reached back and lifted her
glass from the table. She sipped her champagne and smiled, trying hard
to look bored.
"You were kidding about my co-workers... right?" he said.
She cocked an eyebrow and smirked around the lip of her glass. "Of
course."
END