PART V

We forgot the champagne,” Fafa whispered, getting to her feet and sauntering off in search of it.

She knew Boss B would be watching her retreating bottom with frank appreciation, almost salivating as her smooth cheeks undulated beneath her suspender belt, the unclipped straps swaying slightly with each deliberate sashayed step, her black lace thong dividing them perfectly.

“You ready for this cork to pop?” asked Boss B, wrapping his fist around the bottleneck.

“I know you’re good at that,” she purred, sliding down beside him, then she giggled as he raised an eyebrow.

“I seem to remember you having a pretty good grip,” he said.

The cork flew and each took a swig, laughing as the bubbles took effect and the champagne wetted their faces, splashing onto Fafa’s breasts.

“Uh oh, spillage,” whispered Boss B, “assistance needed.” He leaned into her and she sighed as his breath warmed the chilly drips then his hot tongue lapped them up.

“Mm, I think you got it all,” said Fafa, eyes shut in rapture, “but don’t stop.”

He didn’t stop, kissing the slope of each breast and slipping his tongue into the furrow where they met. Fafa needed a distraction, to take her mind off Romeo and felt this was it.

“Kiss me,” she urged, and he lifted his head so their tongues could meet, fizzy with champagne and desire. Her lips alternated between caressing his mouth and the mouth of the bottle, wrapping around it, teasing as he tipped more bubbles into her. But the bottle’s charms were limited when placed in competition with the warm man who held it and soon he found better uses for his hands, kneading her breasts while she dipped her hand down to massage his thighs.

It was crazy, she thought, how a simple thing like putting your mouth on somebody else’s could cause so many reactions in unrelated parts of your body. She was hot everywhere now, despite her near nakedness. Her chest felt as if it were popping like champagne bubbles. Every inch of her skin tingled, and trembling sweetness channelled itself from her lower belly down between her legs. How did kissing do that? Who cared… her thoughts swirled away into a vortex of pure need.

More champagne and she was deliberately careless this time, barely taking any into her mouth, letting it all coat her breasts.

He put his hand between her thighs and the shock was like electricity. She leapt back onto the sofa, spreading her legs wide, inviting him to explore the secrets within.

Thank God, was her only semi-coherent thought when he yanked the little string of material aside and buried his face between her thighs, which she opened even wider in eager offering. She pushed herself towards him, willing him to keep the pressure on and turn it up—why wouldn’t he push his tongue against it?

Disappointment at his withdrawal soon turned to pleasure at the realization that Boss B was bent on removing her thong.

He grabbed her bum cheeks, holding them firmly as he went in for another round of cunnilingus. She could only clutch at cushions and pluck at her own skin as her ability to control her body was surrendered to Boss B’s intentions. He was ravenous, sealing his mouth over her pussy, stroking his tongue top to bottom, side to side, diagonally, around the edges of her clit, every which way, while she moaned wordless encouragement.

With one leg bent on the sofa and the other straight to the side, he braced himself above her. She watched avidly, drinking in the look on his face, the way his chest lowered to meet her breasts, spreading herself as wide as she could in anticipation. She felt his hard length press into the soft skin of her inner thighs, and then before she could even blink, he was inside her, pushing up and stretching her, making her purr with the sudden brutal pleasure of being filled. He had prepared her so well that he sheathed himself easily and it was a small step from there to establishing a hard, fast rhythm.

He must know how much I love this, she thought, her cheeks hot with the delicious shame of it, it must be obvious from how wet I am. He knows I need it. He knows what a desperate slut I am.

She wondered if she dared say any of this out loud, but he was slamming so determinedly now that she was panting, making words hard to jerk out. She decided to stick to enjoying the sensation of his body on hers, in hers, completely mixed up and tangled together.

They knew each other’s bodies so well now that he seemed to have a sixth sense that told him when she was getting close. Was it her heat, her sweat, the pitch of her sighs that told him? Was it a look in her eye? Whatever it was, it was deadly accurate and he slowed down straight away, drawing out the tingling, stomach-tightening thrill of it until she was drowning in it. The way he did this always made her fall over a precipice of vulnerability and understand how deeply she loved him. The realisation was frightening, but somehow the fear gave an edge to the pleasure, made the almost-unbearable wonderful.

She kept her gaze locked on his through the many variations of speed and intensity, stroking his damp face, willing her body to make it obvious to him that he was the best and no other man could give her what he did…….
“Yes,” she whispered, “yes, yes, yes,” wanting him to ride her over the edge. He was not ready to come yet, and she understood this, and understood also that he would be quite happy to eke his own pleasure out until he had wrung more orgasms from her.

Their passionate communion did not let them down. Boss B upped his rhythm until the pressure was too much and Fafa could not keep a lid on her climax for another second. She moaned lustily into it, luxuriating in the pride he took in his erotic handiwork, keeping her eyes fixed on his until they melted into stars.

She could hear his heart hammering along with his ragged breathing and they kissed each other back down to earth with deep, grateful kisses until they were conscious again of being on a sofa, in a room, in a world that contained more than the two of them.

As he fucked and made love to her, his hand landed with a perfect crack on her arse cheek, and she felt the quick bloom of sting push her into the space she wanted to occupy. Yes, here it was, it was coming. Again, and then again, he spanked her into her final unravelling. She worked so hard she was trembling everywhere, but she couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop until he allowed it.

She grabbed his chin tight and then she heard the change in his breathing that always happened before he came and she knew that one more spank would do it for her. Together they bucked and cried into climax. She collapsed on his chest, filled with his warm seed, glorying in it.

Then it was time for breathless laughter and satiated kisses. He slipped out of her and she felt her thighs coated in his thick seed, pressing them together so that some of it might stay inside.

“Oh my God,” she drawled, picking up the neglected champagne bottle and wetting her dry mouth. “That was…”
He laughed, took the bottle from her and agreed.

Even now, exhausted as she was, she felt she could do it all again……. pushing the thoughts of Romeo far far into the night.

But there was this other side, Boss B might be a lot of things—handsome, passionate, a skilled lover, hot and all the attributes there are—but he did not play fair.

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