Farah’s Revenge – Reginald St. James - Sex Stories

Farah’s Revenge – Reginald St. James

... carpet of the corridor on the top floor. St. James’s suite was the corner one. I rang the bell and saw his eye at the lens of the keyhole before he opened the door.

He shut the door and immediately put his arms around me, drawing me into a clinch. He rubbed his pelvis on my lower body, emphasizing how hard he was.

“The access codes?” he asked.

“With you, it’s always pleasure before business,” I replied. “No need to stop now.”

“Yes, yes,” he said thickly, looking me up and down lecherously. “You’re dressed for the office. When you come in next week, I’ll fuck you on my desk.”

“Next week is next week,” I said. “Live in the moment.”

“You’re tall,” he breathed. “Taller than me …”

“Five-inch platform heels will do that, Reggie,” I said.

“I like it when you call me that.”

He led me into the enormous living room of the suite and tried to unbutton my blouse. I stopped him and held both his wrists.

“Why –?”

“I hate you, Reggie. Don’t you want me to fight you?”

His eyes lit up.

“Rough sex?”

“Yes.” I smiled. “Don’t you want me to thrash and wail and beg you to stop? Will that turn you on?”

“Oh, scream, Farah! Make me fight to master you! That will make it so much hotter!”

“Okay, Reggie I’ll be really shrill. Rough sex hurts but it’s what I want.”

“You’re going to love what I do to you!” he exulted. “And so will I!”

“Let me record this,” I said. “We’ll both enjoy the sex video.”

“Yes, yes,” he said.

“The safe word is ...

... ‘dolphin’. If I say it, you must stop immediately.”

“I promise.”

I began to take off my glasses, but he stopped me saying, “Keep those on, they make you look like you do in the office. I always wanted to fuck you there but with that brutish Grierson around, I never could.”

I took my iPad out of my purse, carefully placed it so it panned the entire room, and hit record.

He tried to unbutton my blouse again and I fought him, but this time he pinned my arms to my sides with one hand. He pulled the blouse out of the waistband of my skirt and undid it from the bottom upward. His hands gripped the swell of my belly as I struggled, panting, and screaming “No, no, Reggie, don’t, don’t!”

“I like it when you scream,” he puffed.

“I can scream louder!”

“Scream as loud as you want, Farah! The walls are thick, and there are no other rooms in the corridor. No one will hear you.”

“Omigod!” I shrieked.

He laughed with a note of frenzy as he finished undoing my blouse. He forced me down onto a sofa and pulled down the cups of my bandeau bra. His lips found my thick nipples, angry red and hardened with my exertions.

“Your tits are engorged with milk,” he gloated, squeezing them. “But still so firm!”

He kneaded my breasts making them leak milk. He took a nipple into his mouth and began to suck greedily.

He used his teeth on my nipples and the tender flesh around my aureoles. He hurt me and I cried out in pain. But along with the pain, I felt an erogenous response. ...