The Sunday Arrangement (14 page)

BOOK: The Sunday Arrangement
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I looked at the
clock; he would be here soon. “I will. Thank you for listening to me and
calming my nerves a little bit, Kat. He’s going to be here soon, so I’m going
to let you go.”

“Okay. Be safe
tonight. If he does anything shady, tell me and I’ll hunt him down.”

I laughed. “I’ll be
safe. You be safe, too. Bye, love you.” I hung up and did some final primping. Practicing
my seductive smile in the mirror, I couldn’t wait for him to get here.

~*~*~*~

At seven o’clock he
knocked on the visitor door of my penthouse. My hair was curled and done up in an
elegant French twist. The small black hat was tilted on my head; in my right
hand, I held the feather duster. I wondered briefly, as I opened the door, how
he wanted this to go. The costume had been my number one concern, so much so
that I had forgotten the kind of character I was to portray. Was there a script
I should be using?

When I met his gaze
in the doorway, I decided to simply take the lead. I thought he’d enjoy this
immensely more if I were in the driver’s seat.

He grinned as his
hazel eyes took in my attire. He looked me up and down, like I was a delectable
dessert he couldn’t wait to taste. From his expression, I knew he was pleased.

“Bonjour, Monsieur
Maverick,” I said in my best French accent. I stood to the side to allow him to
enter. “Please, come in.” I hoped this was what he wanted, role-playing from
the very beginning. I felt a little silly, but a little empowered at the same
time. The rest of our evening was now in my control.

He walked into the apartment,
and I closed the door. I took his gray pea coat from him and hung it in the
closet near the front door. “Madame Hart is still away at work. Can I get you
anything to drink or eat while you await her return, monsieur?”

“Water is fine.”

I quickly sashayed
across the living room to get him a glass of water. When I returned to the
sofa, the last place where we’d made love, I bent down low to reveal more of my
cleavage. I looked into his eyes and smiled sultrily. “Is there anything else
you need, monsieur? It would be my delight to fetch it for you.”

He took the cool
glass in his hands and looked around the room. He sipped from the glass of
water before nonchalantly setting it down on the oak coffee table. “No, just go
about your work. I can wait for her.”

I had an urge to
raise my eyebrow in question, breaking character, but I resisted it.
He wants
me to clean for him?
Wasn’t he supposed to say, “Yeah, I have something you
can dust,” as he unzipped his pants? A little hesitant, I supposed I should
take my role-playing even further. I turned away from him and went over to the
beautiful built-in bookshelves on the far wall of the living room. With my
feather duster, I extended my arm to dust the top shelf, which was decorated
with books I’d never opened. And then I remembered the sexy thong this outfit
had built in. As I went down to the lower the shelves, I bent farther over. My
little bustier dress rose up, revealing a pleasant view of my ass. I glanced
over my shoulder to look at Pierce and give him a seductive gaze. I pursed my
lips.

The look in his eyes
was empowering. Once again, they were darkening with lust. A thrill rushed through
me. His desire was evident as I saw him grab his crotch, which I could only
assume was hardening by the second. He turned me on. No longer did I wish to
role-play; I was ready for him to take me to my bedroom now—to ravish me the
way he had done so effortlessly last Sunday.

I turned and walked
to the coffee table, very aware his eyes were following me. I leaned over to
dust the table, giving him another ample view of my cleavage. His lip twitched
upward, and I slowly licked my lips to tease him.

He placed an arm
along the back of the white couch; his other hand still clutching his cock.
“She seems to be taking quite a long time,” he said.

“Yes, Madam Hart
works very hard.” I turned away from him again and walked over to a high shelf
on the wall and stood on the tips of my heels to reach it. I smiled when I felt
him come up behind me. I had wondered how long he would be able to sit there. He
placed his hands on my hips and a kiss on my neck. My heart quickened as I felt
the bulge of his erection against my lower back. I pressed myself against him
and moved my ass against his hard cock. He moaned slightly.

Gently, he turned me
around and kissed me softly. His demeanor was entirely different compared to
the first Sunday I was with him. He was still passionate, but he moved much
slower. There was no rush behind his embrace, only desire. We were like two
starving beggars, both searching for bread. The sweetness of his kiss told me
he wanted me. His lips were soft, supple—just as I remembered them.

Then, he tenderly pulled
on my lower lip with his teeth. He pushed me against the wall and ground against
me. His hand cupped my breast. My hands ran up his chest to his shoulders, and
I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him closer. I was entirely
absorbed in the moment, no longer remembering the feather duster in my hand or
the lacy costume that barely covered my body. All I wanted was him—his lips,
his passion, his cock. To forget this week. To forget my insecurities with his
new, gorgeous assistant. To forget anything but the pleasure our bodies gave
each other, fantasy or no.

I lost track of time
as we kissed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, for a while longer, the heat
between us undeniable and rising with every touch. I pulled away and looked at
his regal, gorgeous face. “The madam will be back soon, monsieur. She wouldn’t
like this.”

He grinned—he liked
the fact that I was still playing my role. “I’m sure she’ll be gone a little
longer. You know how she is—all work and no play.”

Usually, that was
true. I’d hardly had time to look up from my desk for the last eight years, let
alone doll up in a French maid costume for a man I hardly knew but who intensely
aroused me. But not this evening. Tonight I was all play, and the only work in
my mind was whatever Pierce had in store for us between my bedroom sheets. I
kissed him again, more intensely this time, while his hand moved underneath my bustier.
Gingerly, his fingers circled my taut nipple. He was toying with me and I
couldn’t help but fall privy to it. The slow, rhythmic motion of his hands
working my breasts sent me into an increased state of arousal. So badly I
wanted him. All of him. His gentle squeezes and playful fingering made me ache
for his long, skillful fingers to move over the rest of body.

As though he had read
my mind, his warm hand then cupped my pussy. I moaned at his touch, so soft and
sensual, as the heat between us radiated like a blazing summer day. I pressed
myself against him harder. His fingers responded, dancing along my lips.
Expertly, he rubbed the area right above my sensitive clit. He started in small,
tender circles. His skilled hands hypnotized me, leaving my pussy captive to
his bidding. My knees practically buckled as he gradually increased his speed. It
took a lot of self-control, but somehow I managed to pull away from him. He
looked at me, confused.

I gave him a
mischievous smile and took his hand. As I led him to my bedroom, he whispered
naively, “In the madam’s bed even?”

“What she doesn’t
know won’t hurt her,” I said as I closed the bedroom door.

He moved to sit on
the edge of the bed and beckoned me to him. “Come here,” he said.

Ignoring his demands,
I dropped my feather duster on the ground and gracefully bent over to unbuckle
my stilettos. I could feel his eyes on my breasts as they dangled over my
knees. I kicked my heels off and straightened. Removing my little black hat, I sexily
posed for him. Pointing my hip out, I bent over, once again, to reveal the
curve of my ass cheeks.

“Maid, I need you to
do as you’re told.”

I pursed my lips as I
slowly walked to him. “Monsieur does not like to look at me?”

“Monsieur has looked
long enough. He would like to fuck you now.”

My cheeks flushed. His
honesty left me wet with longing. Suddenly, he grabbed my hips. He placed me on
the bed next to him, right on the edge. Almost as quickly, he repositioned
himself on the plush carpet. Aggressively, he spread my legs and unfastened my tiny
costume. My legs began to quiver, anticipating his moist tongue. I’d only had
oral sex preformed on me a few times, and it was never a fireworks-in-the-sky
kind of experience. With Pierce, however, I had a feeling everything would feel
vastly different.

He looked up at me
and smirked like he had a secret I hadn’t yet discovered. I raised an eyebrow,
trying to appear more confident and sexy than I felt in that moment. A chill
ran down my spine as I watched him move his face toward me. I waited with bated
breath to feel the first touch of his attention to my eager pussy. A soft
finger trickled down my outer labia. My hips bucked involuntarily. I could feel
myself grow hot and wet as he used two fingers to stroke both sides of my red,
swollen lips. The pad of his thumb came up to stroke my clit, sending jolts of
pleasure throughout my body. With each hand, I gripped a fistful of my bed
sheets.

He looked up at me
again. “Your lips flush a beautiful rose color when you’re aroused,” he said
simply. “That’s incredibly sexy to me, my little maid.”

I
imagined my cheeks turned the same color at his frankness in speaking about my
vagina. He returned to his task, this time adding the tip of his deliciously
warm tongue. I was overcome with ecstasy at the subtle movement. It was though
he knew the very secret to my innermost desires. His lips moved forward and
encompassed my clit. His hands gripped my thighs as he forced himself farther and
farther inside me. I was captivated by his artful movement. It seemed he was
catering to one of
my
sexual fantasies—a man’s total devotion to my
pleasure.

His tongue
continued to dance around my clit, firm and erotic. His expertise was not lost
on me. It was as if he knew my body better than I ever had. Every flick of his
tongue, every stroke of his finger left me on a cloud of exhilaration. Soaring
high above the world, I never wanted to return to earth.

“Oh,
monsieur,” I moaned. I reached down and ran my hand through his thick hair. His
tongue and lips continued to stroke my labia, sending me into a heightened
sense of arousal; each one took a turn as they brought me closer to orgasm. Heat
radiated throughout my body, and I could feel the pressure of an orgasm mount
within me like a runaway train, uncontrollable on the tracks. It was building
and building until I could no longer restrain myself and gave in to the
pleasure. The orgasm overcame me in a fervent whirlwind.

Pierce’s
hands held my hips down, as I could no longer control them from the surge
pulsing through me. I let out a loud moan when my inner walls flexed, a
glorious feeling of satisfaction and deliverance. His thumbs softly stroked the
skin of my hip, and he placed kisses on my inner thigh as I came. He was so
gentle and considerate, a gentleman through and through. I couldn’t help but
enjoy this softer side of him.

“That
. . . was absolutely—”

He
put a finger to my lips to silence me. The smell of pussy was still warm on his
fingers. “Shhh now, mademoiselle. We don’t want the madam to hear us.”

Gracefully, he stood and
began to take off his clothes. He stared into my eyes as he unbuttoned his
white Oxford shirt. Still coming off of my intense high, I tried my best to
recover. Clearly, Pierce was not ready to end the evening. I moved to take off my
bustier, but he shook his head. “Leave it on.”

I didn’t protest.
Instead, I summoned the energy to crawl up onto the bed to lean against the
tufted headboard. I wanted to watch as he undressed, garment by garment. The
sight of his naked chest left me breathless. His pecs, hard and firm. His abs,
sculpted and impressive. His olive skin was such a turn on, and I wanted to
drink it all in—every inch of him.

As he pulled his blue
boxers to the floor, his cock bounced free. It was a beautiful sight, his ample
and ready member. “Condoms?” he whispered breathlessly before joining me on top
of the bed.

I lazily pointed to
the bedside table. Quickly, he opened the drawer and pulled out one from the
variety pack I had purchased yesterday. He slipped it on and moved on top of me.
I spread my legs, eager and ready for him. Assuming he wanted the missionary
position once again, I wrapped my arms around his strong back. He planted a
gentle kiss on my cheek and rolled over to lie on his back. I waited to see
what he wanted me to do.

His long cock pointed
straight in the air—a love stick without a pilot. “Get on,” he said.

I was a tad
surprised, thinking he would want to take control of our fucking, but all of
his behavior that night had surprised me. I moved to straddle him and positioned
myself over his aroused and anxious penis. Slowly, I eased myself down onto
him. My inner walls accepted his generous offering, clamping tightly around him.
Having just come down from my high, I was once again ready for him. I started
rocking my hips. The movement was a little awkward at first as I questioned how
intense my thrusts against him should be. Starting slowly, I worked the head of
his penis—in and out, in and out—before accepting the rest of his elongated
dick. I found an angle that felt like a cloud of heaven and continued with it.
Gradually, I picked up the pace.

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