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I groaned, that euphoria and discomfort welling up at the same time, but he just put his hand over my mouth, allowing me to nip and suck at his fingers to distract myself. I could still smell myself on them, then taste myself, and it made everything he was doing to me that much sharper.
He thrust, I cried out into his hand, and the music jumped up several notches as the woman below laid out her plans in some language I didn’t know. I read in the program that this was where she told the audience just how her revenge was going to go, but the details were fuzzy beyond that. All there was, was Fitz, me, and what he was doing to my body.
He thrust into me like a man possessed and I took it. Greedily so. I wanted all of him. The pleasure, the stretch, the burn. His fingers dug into my hips and I hoped that there would be bruises in my pale skin the next day. Proving that he wanted me. Me! Of all people.
I could only hold onto the arms of the chairs as he pistoned me up and down. I could tell that the song was coming to an end and so was he, but I wasn’t quite there myself yet.
“Please,” I heard myself whine into his palm.
“Tell me what you need, baby girl.” His voice was doing that thing again. The thing where it made me throb from head to toe.
Baby Girl…I loved it when he called me that.
“More,” I panted, still unable to formulate a full sentence when he was so deep within me.
And he gave me more. His arm snaked around my front and slid around my apex. The pressure was almost too much, and I jerked my hips up into his fingers frantically. I was faintly aware of him chuckling behind me, then his teeth set into my shoulder in a love bite that would definitely be visible in my dress.
That was just what I needed, apparently, because then I was coming undone around him, the world dissolving into a spectacle of light and beautiful sound. There was a high-pitched keen that I was certain was myself until I remembered that Fitz’ fingers were definitely in my mouth. It was only after wave after wave of my orgasm washed over me that I realized it was the opera singer hitting her final note, a powerful and long cry that reverberated through my body.
Right when her vibrato was hitting its fullest, I felt Fitz jerk several times in me, his thrusts losing all their rhythm until he was spilling out his own orgasm.
Huh, I guess all three of us finished together.
Eventually her powerhouse of a note ended, leaving Fitz and I just panting there raggedly. I couldn’t move, too drunk on my body’s own happy chemicals, and I just sagged back against him.
Although everything was still so new, shiny and definitely overwhelming, I kind of had a feeling that I could get used to it. Wouldn’t that be something?
Fitz
“Breathe, sweetheart, you have to remember to breathe.”
There was the tiniest little groan from under my desk and then Bev’s warm mouth was wrapping around me again, her tongue licking at my needy head like it was a lollypop.
I held onto the edge of my desk, possibly the only thing keeping me from grabbing either side of her head and thrusting into that perfect, sinful little mouth like I wanted to. I had come to work expecting a lot of things to get done, but for one I wasn’t one of them.
Bev seemed to have other ideas, however, and that was how she ended up kneeling under my desk, giving me the most earnest blow job I had ever had.
Needless to say, life was going pretty amazingly. I felt more alive than ever, noticing and appreciating things all around me that I normally didn’t have time for. I woke up every morning looking forward to that day’s events instead of feeling like I had to slug through them for some payoff way on down the line.
It helped that Bev was letting me take charge of her sexual education with all the fervor that one might expect from a straight A student. It’d been a week since the opera and she was over at my house almost every other night. Some nights I just went down on her, relishing how she came apart at my mouth and I would spend myself by my own hand across her naked body. Sometimes I would take her, growing less and less gentle with each time.
Not that Bev didn’t deserve all the gentleness in the world, but she was voracious. Always begging for more, and harder. How could I deny her, always looking so ravished and thoroughly fucked across my dark sheets? I couldn’t.
