It Was a Hotly Unusual Occasion - Sex Stories

It Was a Hotly Unusual Occasion

... to happen. The table waiter broke their reverie. He had brought their main courses. Em ate her Caesar salad in quiet reflection. Her boss, whose brains she would soon be upstairs fucking out as only she could (he had a treat coming, she thought with an inner grin) ate his minute steak and salad in a similarly reflective fashion. They drank some very nice pinot noir. Em was pleased to discover that as well as a liberal perspective on sexual adventure, her new boss had excellent taste in wine. She considered the facts. He had met Ambrose and she had met his wife at the welcome drinks held a day or so after he’d arrived to take over as CEO. They’d had dinner together, the four of them, afterwards. Over their entrees Ambrose and David had discussed Canadian mining futures. Over the main course, Ambrose had engaged David’s wife in a playful analysis of that week’s New York Times best-seller list. Em often wondered how on earth Ambrose managed to be so across so much. Although of course, it was his job to be across everything. They had seemed to hit it off, Em thought, Ambrose and David’s wife, whose name was Ngaire and who had grown up in New Zealand and had rather engagingly spoken of fush instead of fish when she ordered the lemon sole. She was a svelte and sexy blonde with nice legs and, Em judged from the conservative but promissory swell of her bust, very trim tits. She was a year or so older than Em, perhaps 10 years younger than Ambrose. Em had wondered, without rancour, ...

... whether (or rather, she thought, when) Ambrose would apply his patented real blonde test to her boss’s wife. She had looked as if she might be up for it with the right player. Em was fairly sure, having applied her scholarly discipline to the question, that Ngaire had already listed Ambrose as a potential big hitter in her league. Em had never believed Ambrose when he insisted that for him the chase was more fun than the kill. She remembered their own first time, years ago now, and exactly how he had pulled off her boots and pushed up her skirt and torn her panties off and feasted on her furry mound and hot-nailed her wet and very willing vagina to the bed. He had loudly enjoyed the kill then, and so had she. It still gave her some very hot moments from time to time, that memory. She finished her Caesar salad. She thought, with a smile, that Ambrose’s lifelong search for the perfect Caesar, into which he had co-opted her, would have to continue. Hers had been good tonight, but it wouldn’t pass the perfect test. The man across the table, whose cock she would soon be seeing and sampling, finished his steak. “Shall we have dessert and coffee?” he asked her. “I’d like a little more time to warmly anticipate the delights that I shall find and then deeply explore under your dress.” Em felt a hot flush run through her and knew that her inner thighs had suddenly become even wetter. He was a very sexy man, her new boss. “As long as you don’t make me have so much that I can’t eat your ...