MILF: Risque Intentions

Risque Intentions

By Emma Scarlett

© Copyright 2016 by Emma Scarlett- All rights reserved.

In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

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This E-Book contains sexually explicit material and is intended for mature audiences. All characters are 18 years or older and all sex in this story is consensual. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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“Is that what you’re wearing for dinner?” A young, gorgeously tanned athlete sauntered into my office with a confident, lopsided grin on his face. His baby blue eyes sparkled at me and his lovely jet black hair gleamed in the filtered sunlight that streamed through my top floor glass windows. Under my desk, I pinched my inner thigh to make sure that I wasn’t dreaming again. My entire romance with Marco had been a whirlwind.

He was a professional soccer player I had met while trying to score his coach’s account for my company. At 24 years old he was eight years my senior. And he was drop dead gorgeous. He was six feet and four inches tall with God-like abs and a swanky attitude that made me feel like a little girl. Me, Andrea Pandeski, the owner and CEO of a multi-billion dollar company that I single-handedly built up from the ground. I was one of the most powerful women in the country if not the world, and all this boy had to do was open his mouth to turn me into a baffling baboon.

I pointed to the dress hanging on the back of the door he had just walked in. It was a designer gown in deep red with gold accents. I had fallen in love with it at a boutique in Paris and Marco had surprised me with it the next day after breakfast in bed, which he had prepared by a five-star chef who even traveled with him. Despite the money I had come into in my work, luxury was something I never afforded myself until I met Marco. It seemed frivolous and got in the way of my work. But Marco? He made me feel like a queen and I was slowly allowing myself to feel that way. He gave me a big grin and bent over my desk to kiss me.

“That’s perfect. I’ll have to change my tie to match. Be ready in thirty?” I nodded, though my stomach was twisted into several knots. We were meant to go to dinner with his parents that night.

              It was partly an official engagement announcement but since he had already called them, it was more of a planning party. All of the essentials had been invited. His older brother and younger sister, his best man, and not a single one of my family members. That was fine by me. I had left them all across the country in Oregon. There was no chance of any of them flying out to New York just for a dinner. Unless I paid for it. My family had long ago given up on me. I was too different from them; ambitious, driven, rich. They didn’t seem to know how to interact with me anymore and I didn’t mind that at all.

I was, however, dreading the night with the Rubios. All of Marco’s family was gorgeous and poised and well-mannered. They had been in the money game for years while I had just clawed my way into it less than a decade ago. They had long, flowing black hair and tall, tan bodies. I was short and blonde with too many curves and muddy brown eyes. I was getting premature wrinkles from a stressful work life. Ever since I’d met them a few months ago at his birthday party, I’d felt like a leper in their pristine and perfect world. I just didn’t belong. Even Marco, who acted and spoke and walked like them, was little comfort. He didn’t seem to notice my differences which was both wonderful and daunting.

              At the restaurant, we were the last to arrive. All of the familiar faces were there waiting for us. His brother and sister were first. A pale, wheezing Matteo had his face stuck in a hand-held video game that was clearly more interesting than Marco and I, but he did manage to murmur an annoyed, “Hey.” Maria, his sister next to him, was a young girl dressed sweetly in a puffy lilac dress with her curly hair flowing all the way down to her waist. She smiled politely at us before returning to her coloring book. Finally, we rounded the table to meet Alondra and Antonio. They too were polite but distracted. With me at least. With their crown prince returned home, they had quite a bit to discuss with him, clearly. I tried to ignore how obviously they were ignoring me.

              The last person I had never met before. He had a mop of curly sandy brown hair and green eyes the color of freshly-mowed grass. He looked up past Marco and directly at me. “It’s nice to finally meet the lady who tied my best friend down. D’you know that you’re the reason my days of keg parties and club-hopping are finally over?” His voice was smooth and rich like good coffee. I offered up an easy smile.

              “Glad to be of service,” I said. Marco laughed loudly as he pulled my chair out for me and sat me down right next to his friend.

              “I’m Blaise, by the way. I came armed with hundreds of embarrassing stories about your fiance for your personal enjoyment.”

I didn’t think that I was going to like Blaise. His humor was corny and his charm was practiced, but as the night unfolded, he became my crutch. It appeared to me that Marco’s parents intimidated Blaise just as much as they did me. He eventually settled down and I realized that he was actually genuinely charming and hilarious. I have to admit that without Blaise, I wasn’t entirely sure that I would have made it through dinner. It was as if I had rekindled an old friendship. I even had a bit of fun!

Marco, however, spent the entire dinner nodding along to his mother’s
instructions
about how our wedding was to be. She seemed to have quite a few ideas of what it should be like almost of all of which she concluded with the declaration that they were not negotiable details followed by a sweet but pointed giggle. Marco just stuffed his face and laughed or nodded or responded when the proper cues arrived. He seemed content to let her plan the whole wedding. Part of me really didn’t care what the wedding looked like. I was sure Alondra was a wonderful party planner. She’d more than likely been doing it her entire life. But I was hurt that no one even thought to pretend to want my opinion about anything. It was
my
wedding after all.

              “Now, Tegan,” Marco’s mother began just at the end of dinner. “If it’s alright by you, I’d like to steal Marco for the next few months. It just doesn’t sit right with me that you two would be living together so close to the wedding.” I smiled at her, but my stomach sank. I loved Marco and I wanted to be around him as we prepared to spend the rest of our lives together. But I also knew better than to poke the bear.

              “That’s fine by me. I wouldn’t want to disrespect any of your traditions. In fact, why don’t you go ahead and bring him home with you all tonight. Blaise can come over and help me pack him some things and bring them over later tonight for the movie?” The old lady’s face lit up at the suggestion. I couldn’t help but wonder if she planned to use her time alone with her son to convince him not to marry me. Part of me worried that she might be successful.

              On the drive back to my house, Blaise acted a little bit weird. He was fidgety and took several seconds to reply to anything I said. He seemed incredibly nervous. It was the polar opposite of the person he had been at the dinner table. Even though I had only met him that day, I decided to go ahead and bite the bullet and asked, “Are you feeling okay? You’re acting weird.”

              He seemed caught off guard by my question. “What d’you mean?”

              “You just seem nervous, is all. Do I make you uncomfortable?”

              “No, not at all.” He glanced at me and chuckled. “I actually really like being around you. You’re fun.”

              “Really? I never would have thought so. I own and run my own business. I don’t have time to be much more than an overworked old woman.”

              “Although you’re definitely overworked, I wouldn’t call you an old woman. You look fantastic for any age.” The way his eyes raked over me and his voice deepened sent a tingle running up my spine. It was a feeling I hadn’t really felt since I was a young woman, flirting with upperclassmen in high school or falling in love with a graduate student at Berkeley. It was a feeling I hadn’t realized I’d missed so much.

              I gave a soft smile and declined an answer, turning my gaze to the window.  We still had a long drive ahead of us before we got to the house. I was feeling light-headed and sleepy from the champagne at dinner. The radio was tuned to a slow jam station that was making the hair on my arms stand on end. Everything was still and quiet until, suddenly, I heard a weird groan from Blaise.

              “Are you doing that on purpose?” he asked, his tone light and playful but charged with a gruff undertone.

              “Doing what?”

              “Your dress rode up.” I looked down and saw nothing but bare thigh. From my slumped position in the seat, I was sure that Blaise had seen at least most of my naked ass. I gave a drunken giggle.

              “Sorry. Was that distracting?”

              “Fuck yeah, you are. But you already know how sexy you are.”

              “Doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to hear it again.” He laughed and I saw the beginning of a blush creeping up his neck. That was the moment that I first felt guilty for what I knew what was about to happen. It was like somewhere inside the drunken little girl I was acting like, the real me was holding up giant caution sign, waving it around and trying to get her attention. Cheating on Marco had never been part of the deal. It was supposed to happen the other way around. After we were already married.

              “Well, in that case, you should know that you’re a fucking angel. You’re gorgeous, Tegan. And your wit is incredible. You have something rugged and untamed about you that I’ve never experienced in a woman before.”

              “That’s just because I’m not old money,” I corrected him.

              “No. It’s more than that. Something only you have. It’s incredible.” My heart was beating so fast in my chest that I was sure it would burst. Without a moment’s thought, I unbuckled my seatbelt, positioned myself so I was kneeling in the seat, and reached over to unzip his slacks. When I pulled his huge, hard cock from his boxers, I gave him a satisfied grin.

              “God damn. You could do porn with a dick like that.” I didn’t wait to see his reaction. I put as much of that beautiful cock in my mouth as I could and was rewarded with a deep groan. I pulled back up and slowly swirled my tongue around the head, turning to look up at him with a wink. I put the head in my mouth and sucked gently. Then, his hand tangled deliciously in my hair, gently pulling a little before forcing me back down his length. He used his hand to guide me at a pace that worked for him and I worked my hand up and down the length of him that I couldn’t fit down my throat. The feeling of his hand in my hair and the thrum of the music combined with the delicious fucking feeling of his cock in my mouth set me on fire. I could feel my hard nipples rubbing against the fabric of my dress and when I reached one hand down to tease my own clit I wasn’t surprised to find that I was soaking wet.

              “Are you touching yourself? Sucking my dick turns you on?”

              “Mmmhmm.” The vibrations of my humming seemed to go right through his dick and he gave me another groan.

              “That’s so fucking sexy.” His hand started to pump my head up and down even faster and I sped my hand up to match his pace. His dick slammed into the back of my throat over and over as I got close to the edge. I was moaning with my mouth around his dick and he seemed to get more turned on the more I moaned. I could feel myself creeping up on a beautiful orgasm just as he forced my head down for one last deepthroating and the taste of him filled my mouth. I came just seconds after him.

              Breathing heavily, hardly able to contain myself, I sat up and righted myself in the seat and licked my lips to be sure I didn’t miss anything. I glanced over at Blaise, who had just finished zipping himself back up. He met my gaze and offered up a cheeky smile.

              “Marco is a lucky guy.”

              The mention of my fiancee by name shattered the entire atmosphere. I didn’t speak or even look at him for the rest of the ride home. It wasn’t really that I felt bad for doing it. I didn’t even feel like I had cheated. I felt bad that Marco would probably have no idea. And that if Blaise were to ever tell him anything, the poor fool would believe me no matter what evidence was presented should I choose to deny it. He was just so oblivious and loyal. Like a puppy. The thought was a painful reminder of why I was marrying Marco instead of someone sexy, witty, and charming like Blaise. It was the easier decision. Being with Marco for the rest of my life would be the easiest thing I ever did.

              We would get to do things like sit on the porch and enjoy our respective hobbies while blatantly ignoring each other. Or come home from work, exchange pleasantries, and then ignore each other. We would never fight. We would respectively solve problems and harbor bitter resentment for each other until the day that we died. We would envy other relationships but thank the Lord for ours when we saw anyone fighting. With a career like the one I had, Marco was the best case scenario. It was like opting to buy a succulent instead of planting tomato seeds.

              The first couple of days without Marco were blissful. It wasn’t that he was exactly bothersome, but it had been almost a year since I had last lived by myself. Marco, who hardly ever worked, never went away on business trips or hunting trips or anything else. He was just always home. I was a person that valued my peace and quiet. Gradually, however, I began to feel restless. One fantastic perk about living with a significant other was the sheer frequency of sex. It almost felt like I was going through withdrawals. Sure, Marco and I talked on the phone every day but he was under the constant surveillance of his irate mother which meant nothing dirty would be going on during those calls. She treated him like a child.
He is a child
, I reminded myself.