1. 151 Reasons


    Date: 8/27/2017, Categories: Seduction, Author: WannabeWordsmith, Rating: , Source: LushStories

    heels. She'd accentuated her delicate neckline with a silver chain and heart-shaped pendant that probably cost what I earn in six months. I thickened at thoughts of nuzzling her neck, brushing her shoulders, whipping off her dress and laying waste to the treasures beneath. She seemed distracted, though. Slightly withdrawn as she downed her second flute of champagne. Maybe they'd argued prior to the shindig. My path ultimately led me to stand alongside my employer. "Ahhh, here he is, man of the moment." He clapped me on the back, turning conspiratorially to the greying businessmen in his midst. "He's worth his weight in gold, this one." I nodded curtly and quipped, "As are you, Troy." The suits laughed and Troy gave a thin-lipped smile. “Very droll.” “Thank you. Speaking of which, I'll take gold if you have any to settle the balance.” “I don't.” “Then cash is fine.” Troy blinked. “You're expecting it now?” “Not this minute. But we agreed half up-front, half on completion. Isn't the launch 'completion'?” He seemed a little irritated to be discussing the deal in front of his buddies. “Of course. Tell you what, come by the office Monday, Melissa will sort you out.” “Sorry, I'm not around next week.” He sighed. “OK. Find me later and we'll settle up.” Laura interjected, stepping alongside us and catching hold of my arm on one side and his shoulder the other. “Honey," she purred. "You look after the guests, I'll take care of Mr. Noble if you like.” He regarded his wife, some ten ...
    years his junior. “Thank you, darling.” The air fizzed as she led me away. Besides the occasional contact during the failed attempts at wooing her, we'd barely touched. The warmth of her body made me tingle. Was "taking care" a euphemism for what I hoped? Had I done enough to snare her at the eleventh hour? We breezed up the staircase together, leaving the chatter behind and she guided me left to a large set of double doors with ornate handles, slipping inside ahead of me. It was the master bedroom. A colossal four-poster that would dominate my whole apartment, looked minuscule against one of the huge walls. She was nonplussed as it was her home, but I was taken aback by the sheer grandeur of everything, from the ottoman and writing bureau to the art on the walls and springy carpet. She spun. "You like?" I nodded. "Wow." "Me, not the décor." "Oh. Yes. Stunning." She beamed, more at ease away from the party. Maybe the alcohol was talking. "I'll get your money. Just need to use the bathroom a moment." I circled the room, still aghast at the opulence. The TV on its pivot had to be over fifty inches, and the wall lamps from which soft glows emanated looked to be solid silver. Entrepreneurialism wasn't without its material benefits. The click of the en-suite door signalled her re-entry and I turned, my jaw dropping. Naked, save for the heels, and opera gloves to her elbows. She pirouetted again, ballerina style. "Prefer this look?" I goldfished. "Uhh, I… yeah. But-" I checked over ...
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