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Chapter Four
The skyline of the city was as drab to Jocelyn’s eyes, as the bleak picture of her next few days. In the midst of the depression, her attorneys having just walked out of the office, her stomach fluttered nervously as though she wanted sex. Unfortunately, there was no one available to help assuage her current grief.
Picking up her phone she dialed the number for Reggie’s hotel room in New York. There’d been a little magic between them when he called the evening before. He’d suggested that she call back when she got to the office the next morning, thinking some old fashioned submissive assignments might cheer her. She’d awakened with a smile remembering his offer.
The phone rang seven times before she returned to the operator. “Mr. Harold is not answering, would you like to leave a message?”
“Message?” she repeated to herself. Too late, the attorneys chewed up half the morning, and she was left with her sex about to climb out the window onto the ledge, and Reggie likely ensconced in meetings for the remainder of the day. “No, I guess not.”
Pulling a slip of paper from her purse, she dialed a second number and heard a familiar voice answer.
“Ah! You did call,” Ian exclaimed.
“It might be best to come around six,” she suggested.
“Sneaking around, huh?” he asked.
“I want it private.”
“I’m easy to accommodate,” he returned. “And I’ll have a surprise for you.”
***
With the lights out, Ian Pennywhistle’s second assault on her in a week could be accomplished nearly anonymously. She waited for him in near darkness, an attitude of mind as much as the reality in her darkened office where she anticipated his arrival.
Skilled at the extemporaneous moment, Ian was quick to answer Jocelyn’s mood and was for a second time amused and elated by the prospect of having this amazing female under his control. She’d always been a testy one in the past. But the years having matured her and the likelihood that her husband had educated her beyond ordinary sexual talents, she’d become an even more fascinating conquest.
Her office open, he crept silently inside and closed the door, seeing the redhead sitting primly at her desk. Somewhere in the distance a vacuum cleaner purred erratically. In the outer office the fax machine hummed. And a low agitated whine from the pop machine in the hallway made Jocelyn a meditative picture of serenity appearing out of the din of muted office noise.
“I knew you’d want me again,” Ian said softly, as he leaned in, one hip resting on her desk.
“I wanted my husband tonight,” she informed him.
“So, I’m just second fiddle to the master?”
“Actually, I think you play a different instrument altogether.”
“That doesn’t matter to me.” He stared for some moments, trying to figure a mood he’d never really associated with the carefree woman he’d known years before. Reading from her expression a malevolent demon lurking in Jocelyn’s frame of mind, he could see endless possibilities. At the same time, he feared it was desperation not desire motivating this tryst. He’d be careful. “If I were to guess, I’d say you don’t want it easy tonight.”
“Probably not,” she agreed.
“Then I’ll take your ass,” he decided. He turned to the sitting area in her office, spotting a chair that looked appropriate for his purposes. “Over the back of that should do.”
Rising, Jocelyn walked like a woman on the way to the gallows, a woman prepared to be punished for the crime of rampant desire. The act itself would be a second crime against her marriage vows in one week, driving her more deeply into an irreconcilable position with Reggie. However, knowing this did nothing to dissuade her. If Reg had been at the hotel that morning, if she hadn’t been in meetings that afternoon when he called, if he’d simply stayed in his room to take her call just an hour before, all this might have been averted.
Looking at the waiting Ian with his diabolical eyes shining down on her, the powerful need in her flared—maybe even more powerful than she might have felt with Reggie standing there. Being a naughty wife had its own peculiar kind of charm. While Ian stared at her, she reached around and undid the clasp and zipper on her skirt. Letting it drop to the floor, she likewise unfastened the garter belt and inched each stocking down a leg until the two flesh-colored bits of nylon and the lace belt were a puddle on the floor.
Though Ian didn’t ask for this formal unveiling, he appreciated the spirit in which it was performed. His only disagreement came when she turned to bend over the chair.
“Put your heels back on,” he ordered. The look of her ass in heels was not something he planned to miss.
With her feet tucked back inside her high heels, Jocelyn resumed the ceremony, offering Ian Pennywhistle her bared behind to abuse as he saw fit. Had he realized how willing and how well-schooled she was in sexual submission, he might have thoroughly abused her bottom and left a scarlet masterpiece of welts. As it was, he remained reluctant to wreak the darkness that was part of his nature. He was assured of a rowdy ass fuck, but it was dangerous to push a woman in Jocelyn’s fragile frame of mind into a bitter battle. Above all, Ian was an opportunist with the sole intention of enjoying himself. Leave the rancor and soul searching for the husband. His plan quickly set, he wouldn’t waver.
Noting what a juicy cunt greeted his roving fingers, Ian used the liquid to lubricate the puckering hole above. One, two then three fingers were easily inserted beyond the tight barrier, and she began to relax. Given the way she seemed at ease, Ian could tell that Jocelyn Killian Harold was well versed in the requirements of anal stimulation and surrender. He smiled at his good fortune.
Taking his enlarged organ from his pants, the thick piece was pressed against the doorway for just an instant before it slid inside. “Ahhhhh, ahhhhh yes,” the delighted Jocelyn murmured under her breath, while her bottom moved in tiny jerks and starts as she got used to the penetration. “Deeper, Ian,” her melodious consent urged him forward. But knowing his own mind in the matter, Ian choose to keep his erection just beyond the opening where he could slowly move inside and then withdraw, and then move just a little deeper the next time he thrust. Having the yielding woman moaning for that one deliciously enthusiastic plunge inside the nether portal, he amused himself until he was sure he’d driven her to the edge of endurance. Then with an alarming lunge against her ass, he nestled deep within where he remained motionless for some seconds.
He felt her muscles pulsing around his organ. The spasms were severe. Jocelyn had difficulty getting used to the intense and sudden violation even though she’d asked for it. But letting her rest with the prick inside to the hilt, she finally came around to accept him fully and began swaying her hips again as a whore’s come-on.
