She knuckled down, her fingers stabbing at each key with caffeine-injected vigor. The screen greeted her eyes, and a hoarse grunt escaped her lips. The deadline loomed. Cartec, a major account, needed its monthly account summary and she almost forgot her afternoon appointment. She could always reschedule her first appointment at the new salon, and wait until the next opening. It could stretch to three months, and it wouldn’t do.
“How’s it going Kath?”
She looked up to see Julie, her vivacious colleague slide her arse onto her desk.
Julie’s emerald eyes scanned the monitor. Kathy’s mind rewound. Cats sometimes ate their offspring. She’d been ten, and hiked through the shrubs of her local park only to catch a glimpse of the local feral cat. Its blank green eyes focused on its offspring, and it was too horrific to recall but Julie’s eyes took her to the moment she heard the soft moist crunch…
“I’m nearly done. How can I help you?”
“Heard you’re using the gift voucher.”
Kathy nodded. She received the plastic fantastic birthday present three months prior. The girls pitched in and come half three, they all gathered round her desk for her birthday presentation.
“I’m going this afternoon,” three months passed, far too long for her liking. She’d always adhered to monthly maintenance but the new account placed more demands thanks to a corporate takeover and a sadistic General Manager who called her each day to be updated on the transition.
“Well they’ve added a couple of new items on the list,” Julie smiled, “you should check out 23, 45 and 54.”
“What am I going to do with a 54?”
“I tried 54 two months ago, and I returned a month later.”
Anything to show off, Kathy thought. Julie frequently reminded them of her regular schedule. Where others struggled to book appointments, Julie waltzed in with few problems. Her eyes quickly scanned her showy colleague. Kathy inwardly gaped at Julie’s radiant, near flawless, peachy skin. The whites of her eyes glowed, and she muffled her urge to sigh but venom seeped out instead.
“The 54 would be more suitable to a woman of your…maturity?”
The afternoon, and each laborious task, almost ground up her brain. Kathy wondered if her head ached or whether her brain cells groaned. The wall clock had to be wrong. A half hour remained until her appointment, and her feet needed to pound five concrete paved blocks.
“That’s it. You’re out of here.”
A shrill ring burst through to her brain, via her ear. It took a moment for her to realise her desk phone came alive. She gently picked up the handset, cursing her forgetfulness.
“Hello?” the masculine voice on the other end sprang forth. It could only be one person.
“You’ve reached Kathy Williams. Unfortunately, I’m unable to take your call right now. Please leave a message after the tone,” she said, with a perky squeak.
She thought she’d pass out as the asshole baritone on the other side left a long, terse message, and she couldn’t believe her inner child. She sucked in her breath, and relaxed her lips. Did she dare pretend to be an answering service? Her fingers quickly entered her four-digit pin, activating the real deal and she shut down her computer.
23 seemed to be the right choice. She couldn’t help but smile. Sergei, the Salon manager, commended her on her choice.
“Totally new. Fresh off the rack. Completely trained to satisfy,” his gleeful grey eyes met hers, and she blushed. They both turned their heads toward her selection.
“Anything, Madam. You only have to request. No, demand.”
She needed it straight up, without a twist or fancy arsed umbrella. Her eyes appraised the masked specimen. Once upon a time she would have thought 23 too young for her thirty odd years. She faced 23, a well built man, and appraised his downcast eyes for a few seconds before taking in the rest of him. Smooth tanned skin, visible musculature; he could pin her down at any time with the strength his muscles boasted. Bulging deltoids, cut triceps, she almost swooned as he lowered himself to his knees and waited like a trained canine.
Heat unfolded, like a coil, and occupied her pelvis. She watched the interplay of his Gluteus Maximus and hamstrings as he crawled along the cold marble floor. He stopped in front of a black painted door and leaned toward the brass door handle. A half moment passed, his mouth latched onto the metal and the door opened.
Well within the scarlet and black furnished vestibule, she stripped off her suit and stood, parting her legs.
His exemplary obedience further moistened her anxious cunt. She needed him close by, standing a couple of inches away from her, and his fingers wedged deep inside her. He silently took his place, her eyes closed and she deeply inhaled his salty scent.
“Does it turn you on?”
The menace in her tone, so unlike her, briefly alarmed her. The song in her chipper sweet voice morphed into a cocktail of metallic spiked lust. She pictured his face underneath the black shiny mask, and her eyes opened to peer down south, detecting a stirring erection within his leather pouch. How long before the tip of his cock slid out to nudge her belly?
Kathy grasped his collar, and firmly yanked it. Her ass nudged the edge of heavy, ornate mahogany bench. She didn’t feel the need to strap him onto the table, even though each heavy leather strap beseeched her. God, how she wanted to laugh. Did he sigh with relief beneath the mask? She detected his eyelids, slowly blinking, and perched herself on the edge of the bench, spreading her thighs apart.
“You know what do,” she said, and gave him a brief introduction. Her fingertips skated over the wet groove, pushing her labia aside. Her three fingers merged, and she firmly rubbed herself up and down. His obscured face minimized his needs, and his psyche. 23 became a vessel, or toy, she focused on his middle and forefinger.
She panted as his fingers steadily ploughed into her creamy hole. A hole or slit, was how she saw it, in addition to it being a cunt or a pathway to her pleasurable climax. Her hands trailed over her torso, appreciating every microscopic river of blood that warmed her skin and inflamed her nipples to firm rosy peaks. She gripped his forearm, and held it firmly in place so she could grind against his knuckle deep fingers. A spasmodic pair of butterfly wings tickled her chest before rising to her throat, almost knocking the wind out of her.
She let go, ordered him to strip down, and redirected her attention to his cock, firmly stroking it without any wet love from her lips.
“Does it hurt?” Not that she cared. He was hard, and ready to fuck her.
She caught sight of his bulging Adam’s apple.
She decided to push the envelope, and take a risk.
“Take it off now,” she nodded, signaling his mask, “oh, you’re pretty,” and he was in a matter of symmetry. Flawless skin stretched over his high cheekbones, and firm jaw. For a moment, she couldn’t believe her luck and saw his fleeting glance, how his eyes glimmered within their sockets.
She quickly guided his cock inside her, a firm stab and he began his dance, pummeling into her. She told him to fuck her.
She looked at his shiny cock exiting before re-entry, coated with her need, lust and he then moaned, thinking he could take the lead because of his face.
She slapped his face on re-entry, her energy briefly adjoining with his to then reverberate through to her limbs. A train of soft moans danced along her neck as his hips repeatedly met hers. Each wild thrust sparked further thoughts. Her left palm met his cheek, but he continued fucking her. An orb of electricity coalesced at the base of her spine.
So this is Kundalini?
The orb emanated outward, and she squeezed her eyelids shut, appreciating the prickling heat within her. Her Yoga teacher certainly avoided the Kundalini reptile within everyone.
Kathy rode it for a short while, and abandoned her initial mission. She pushed him away, stood and crouched.
She licked up the muted scent of her arousal off his cock, and swallowed it all, snatching it away from him. His eyes widened when she instructed him to fuck her mouth.
It was funny, she thought. She entered the room with a sense of authority, and now his hips became the lever, pushing his cock deeper into her mouth.
She slurped, and dribbled along the way.
What a messy bitch…
Her fingernails dug into his buttocks at the right moment of his cataclysm, and she eagerly absorbed each pearly jet only to stand, wipe her lips with her fingers and smile before stepping into her clothes.
She arrived home. Overcome by the scent of sautéed mushrooms in, what she correctly detected, red wine.
“You look energized. Gym?” her husband Terry smiled as he oversaw he oversaw his sauce.
“Went to the Salon.”
“How’d it go or how much did it set us back this time?”
Kathy fished through her handbag and retrieved the receipt.
Terry eyed it and whistled.
“Care to share?”
“It’s tax deductible…”
He rolled his eyes. “Go on. I’d like to hear. Was he good?”
“That’s something I’ll discuss after dinner…in the bedroom, or anywhere else that takes your fancy?”
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