“Yes. More, please.”
“Come for me, Faith. Now.”
I wriggle some more, groping my way across the sensual plateau towards the free fall of orgasm. I’m close, but not there yet.
“I said, now!”
“Ewan, I…”
“Now.” His tone is harsh, his fingers playing my body like a musical instrument. I realise that he is in control, manipulating my progress towards release, insisting I come, but supplying slightly too little stimulation to push me to that point. I need to cover the additional distance on my own, by sheer force of will. His will.
I’m there, tumbling, spinning, my body spasming in helpless surrender as I finally drag myself across the finish line. Not one to deal in half measures, his commands obeyed, Ewan increases the tempo of his finger-fucking. My orgasm flows like a tap, hard and fast, intense, carrying my senses away with it. I’m whimpering, clutching at the duvet cover under my hands as the waves of my release wash through me.
At last it’s over. My knees give out and I slump forward to crumple face first onto the bed. I lie there, shivering, vaguely conscious of Ewan moving around the room. I don’t open my eyes. I wait.
Ewan’s hands on my hips ease me forward to lie face down across the bed. He eases my thighs apart, arranging my legs to bend at the knee in order to raise my bottom slightly. When I am positioned to his liking, he slides hiscock into me. I’m wet, slick, his entry is easy. I lift my bum, tightening my pussy to grip him. This is what I wanted, what I pleaded for him to provide. I groan, stretching out my hands in front of me to grab the mattress and I just hang on as he sets up a fast, persistent rhythm. Each stroke is smooth, driving deep, the angle perfect to continue the pressure on my G-spot. In contrast to my previous efforts, my next orgasm is swift in the making. It bubbles up from somewhere low down in my core to fizz and to arc, the electric current joining up all my erogenous zones.
“Ewan. Oh, God, Oh, God. That’s fabulous. Wonderful. Can you…?”
“I can. I surely can, baby.” He leans down to press his chest against my back, our bodies joined from neck to hip, slick and hot as we move together in perfect synchronisation. His hand slips underneath me to once more find my clit. As my orgasm subsides, he whips me back into a frenzy, urging me up to the brink and over. Again.
“Shit, sweetheart, I missed you. Missed this. So tight, so fucking hot.”
“Ewan…”
“Squeeze me. Hard. I want you tighter still.”
I do as he instructs, clenching my inner muscles in order to grip him as hard as I’m able. He withdraws his cock, only to drive it balls-deep inside me, holding that position for a few moments before repeating. His breath is coming in short, staccato pants as his climax builds. My own body sated, I am able to concentrate on Ewan’s reactions, his responses. I know the moment his balls draw up and clench to pump the semen up and out in a viscous stream. Ewan lets out a guttural moan as it flows, thick and warm, to fill me with its wet heat.
* **
“How long are you able to stay this time?”
“A while. Six weeks, maybe eight. I might need to fly out to South Korea at some stage, but that’s not definite. And if I do it won’t be for long. How’s your business coming along?”
We’ve polished off my braised steak and now we’re lingering over the remains of a bottle of pinot noir. The washing up will wait until tomorrow. Or maybe the day after. We’ll go next door to Ewan’s if I run out of plates.
“Good, Very good. I got two new clients.”
He smiles as he leans across the table to top up my wineglass. “Good. I’m loving my new-look website by the way. Would you be interested in doing some designs for the Qatar project?”
“Shit, yes! What do you need?”
“Promotional materials, consciousness-raising. A poster campaign to start with, just to evoke some local interest and awareness at this stage. Sort of, ‘we got the World Cup, yee hah’ stuff. It’d have to be in Arabic, obviously. Would that be a problem?”
I shake my head. As long as the translation is reliable I can reproduce any script using a light box to project the correct characters onto a screen, then I take a photographic image, which I scan in to create the actual design. “Do you want me to produce some costings?”
“If you would. I’ll let you have the details when I grab my briefcase from my car. You were so keen to have your way with me I never even got my luggage inside.”
“I don’t recall you protesting overmuch.”
“Same goes. Although there was one point when you seemed less than ecstatic. Did I come on too strong?”
I pause, thinking back over his domineering approach earlier. It’s true he may have unnerved me a little, but in hindsight it was sort of arousing. I’m submissive, I do realise that now. Just not Ewan’s submissive. Even so, heseems able to tap into my subconscious desires.
“You were a bit stern, but you made up for it.”
“I didn’t upset you?” His expression is one of concern.
