Written by Mally Stewart for Camilla.
Marshall took her shopping.
They were going to 'do the town' and he wanted her dressed appropriately.
He dismissed her protests with a quiet insistence.
He liked a delicate pink dress that was little more than a slip that clung to her body at every curve.
She felt practically naked. He bought it and ignored her thank you's.
They went back to the hotel and made love until near midnight, when he decided it was time to to get ready for their night out.
She continued to be surprised at the magnitude and frequency of her sexual appetite, to say nothing of Marshall's.
She was on fire for him and willingly loved him in every way he wanted. At first she was shy to ask him for favors, but after she realized that he was as hot for her as she was for him, she shed all her hang-ups and let him know exactly what she wanted. They were drenched in sex. Body, mind, bed, room - it was all about sex.
Marshall showed her a wonderful time.
He knew the Miami night scene well, and everywhere they went he was welcomed and celebrated, and she with him.
She was accustomed to being treated with a certain degree of importance in the places she frequented, but it was nothing like this.
They dined in elegant splendor, joined by important people who discussed serious subjects with them, who acted as though their opinions counted.
As instructed, she wore no panties, and he idly played with her under the table while talking about the implications of Russian money-laundering.
They went to a dance club and Marshall instructed her in the nuances of hip-hop with a Latin flavor.
Hot and sweaty, they made love in the Men's Room with her pushed up against the sawn-off stall door, ignoring the comings and goings of others. They went to a comedy club and laughed themselves silly.
Finally, at four in the morning, they crawled into her funky bed and she fell asleep with him buried deep inside her.
On Sunday morning a maid woke her up, offering to clean the room and make the bed.
She declined. She liked the bed the way it was with all the spots and smells reminding them of the passions they'd shared.
They went out for brunch, followed by a long, leisurely walk on the beach, then back to the room and into the bed.
She was feeling soreness by now, but the sexual fire that burned in her was so intense that the pain blended into the other sensations and added to them, bringing her to new highs.
Dimly she wondered why Jason hadn't called and ironically wondered if he was out cheating on her. "Your wife doesn't call you?" She asked.
"She knows I'm busy."
"Busy making love?"
He snorted. "No, of course not."
"What would she do if she found out about us?"
He shrugged. "She'd be pissed, I can tell you that."
"Is she a jealous type?"
"No, not at all. She's very secure."
"What would you do if you found out she was screwing some guy in a hotel room?"
"I'd kill him."
"Really? How interesting!" She was hurt. She'd begun to think of herself as THE woman in his life.
"You realize I'll be making love to my husband when I go home?"
He was silent for a while. "Yeah. I've thought about that."
"I'm not happy about it."
"But you'll be making love to your wife, too."
"Yeah. I guess so."
"And God knows how many others whose asses are yours forever."
"No, Baby. You've ruined all that for me." He pronounced 'ruined' to rhyme with 'burnt' - 'rurnt'.
Jessica felt let down.
The thought of Marshall with another woman - even though she was his wife - depressed her.
As their time together drew to a close she felt it more and more. "When will I see you again?" she asked.
"I'll have to see about making another deal with your company." He smiled. "I'm going to be spending a lot of money!"
"Make it soon!"
"I will, Lady Mine, I will."
Jason Sturgess thought about it for all of one minute, then pulled his rolodex up and looked up the phone number of Melissa Freeman the red-head.
It turned out she still lived at home and Jason had to explain to her mother that he was the boss and needed her to come in and work.
"But it's Sunday!" The mother protested.
"I can call someone else," Jason said, making his voice sound bored.
"There are people who want to get ahead in the company." She got the message and put her daughter on the phone pronto.
Jason was wondering how old Melissa was when she came on the line. "Hello?" She was a little breathless, excited and nervous.
"Miss Freeman, I'm sorry to call you on a Sunday, but something's come up and I could use your help in the office. Of course, you'll be paid....."
"Oh, I'll be happy to help, Mr. Sturgess! When do you want me?"
"Good. I appreciate that. Come in as soon as you can, please." He liked the way the words 'want me' sounded.
His business was large enough that there was always work waiting to be done.
He arranged some folders that were reasonably important and, when she came in, he put her to work on them, but not before taking in the way she looked.
She was really young, he realized, when he saw how tight her skin was around her hazel eyes.
She wore a plain dress of forest green that complemented her hair.
She had the most beautiful head of red hair he'd ever seen.
He couldn't help but comment on it. "Irish?" he asked, plainly admiring her hair.
"No. Jewish," she responded, her eyes looking for reaction.
He nodded. How had he missed that?
There was nothing Jewish about her appearance.
Her nose was straight and quite small. Cute, in fact. Nose job? he wondered.
Her skin had that northern European look, pale and delicate, with pink touches at the cheeks and around the ears. He shrugged mentally. It didn't matter.
He left her to get on with the work, then, at 12.30, announced that it was lunch time, and would she honor him with her presence?
She blushed charmingly. She admired his Porsche, and otherwise sat quietly as he drove to a restaurant on Pharr.
Jason ordered for both of them. She refused his offer of wine, softly saying she wasn't old enough.
He should have realized that she was definitely not 21! "Just how old are you, exactly?"
"Seventeen," she answered self-consciously."
"Seventeen," he said, his eyes all over her. "You are very mature, Melissa. I had no idea."
She grinned happily. "How old did you think I was?"
"Oh, twenty one, at least!"
She blushed brightly, looked down.
"You finished high school, right?" He frowned.
"Oh yes! I'm going to school nights. Business Administration."
"Is that right? I really admire that. A woman like you could go far in this company."
After that she was not so tense with him, and he caught her looking at him with very interested eyes.
She quickly looked away, but it was too late.
On the way back to the office he casually put his arm on her shoulder. "I don't know what's happening to me," he said, "But I find myself terribly attracted to you." He glanced over to catch her reaction.
She was surprised and pleased. He pulled his arm away, not wanting to rush it.
"I'm sorry!" he sounded contrite. "I don't know what came over me!"
"No, it's OK," she told him.
He wished she'd say more, but she didn't. It was up to him.
"Did you ever wonder what it is that causes some people to be attracted to each other?
I mean, why isn't every man attracted to every woman? Why just that one particular woman?
Do you think it's a mysterious unknown connection that happens, one that sends a message to the cells of your body and starts a process of heating up and making a complete and utter ass of yourself! Huh? Do you think?"
She laughed at him, turning to face him. "That's not what I heard," she said.
Now he was pleased. At last! Spontaneous conversation! "And what did you hear?"
"I heard that men ARE attracted to all women, and it's up to us girls to maintain order amongst the primitives."
It was his turn to laugh. The girl had spunk! "And your body doesn't receive mysterious signals that warm you up and make you want to throw off your clothes and jump on somebody?"
"Well. Maybe if it were Brad Pitt."
"Brad Pitt!" He was outraged. "You'd jump on Brad Pitt? Give up your.. er..."
"Virginity? What makes you think I'm a virgin?"
"I know it's none of my business but, since you brought it up, are you?"
"You're right," she told him.
"That is none of your business." The words were harsh, but not the tone.
She was still smiling at him, and blushing furiously.
He pulled up in front of the office building.
"Well," he sighed, "Time to get back to work!"
Sitting in his office he fought the urge to be with her, to play with her, to seduce her.
He'd planned on seducing her, a simple slam bang thank you ma'am kind of thing, a nice severance check at the end of the month and sayanara!
Now he wasn't so sure.
Affinity had developed, and affinity is hard to betray.
He wanted her, no doubt, but in a different way. He kicked himself mentally, told himself that he was getting soft.
Around 3.30 he couldn't keep away. He went to the data entry area where she was diligently working and reviewed what she'd done. He nodded his head in approval.
"You've done a lot more than I expected," he told her. "I'm going to reward you with a visit to my club, where you can get a massage and relax in the sauna, and then I'll buy you dinner.
How's that sound?"
She smiled. He noticed how wide her mouth was, how kissable her lips.
"Sounds great! I'll call my mom and tell her not to expect me home for dinner."
He overheard her telling her mother not to worry.
There were a lot of 'Yes Mom's' and 'I know Mom's' and patient sighs.
Her mother was warning her about the married man, he knew.
The older, experienced man. The man who was her boss, who held her future in his hands. Potentially.
He took it as a signal.
She knew who and what he was even before her mother warned her.
She certainly had to know what he expected of her. Yet, she was going with him. It was a signal, had to be!
She hung up, shook her head. "She warned you about me?"
"Said I was a married man, not to be trusted."
"Told you there's just one thing I want from you."
"And what if she's right?"
"I'm a big girl now."
He pondered her answer.
Ambiguous. A big girl, meaning that she could do what she wanted?
Or, that she could take care of herself? Women! His club was special.
He and Melissa were ushered into an area that looked like a hotel suite.
An attendant took her into one of the rooms, where she was helped out of her clothes and into a shower. The attendant sponged her down, then dried her off.
She was shown to a massage table, where she lay down, naked, and a large fluffy towel was placed over her. The attendant left.
Soft music was playing.
She relaxed. A muscular woman came in, nodded briefly, and began massaging her.
The woman played no favorites, and ignored no part of her either.
Everything got worked on, including her butt cheeks and even her breasts, but so matter-of-factly that it seemed perfectly normal and strangely non-sexual.
The woman told her to drink lots of water and left.
Jason found her still on the massage table. He handed her the robe and watched passively as she pulled it over her beautiful body.
He led her to the sauna, and sat her down on one of the wooden benches.
She found it dangerously hot, but he told her to relax - her body would get used to it.
They were the only people in there.
He sat next to her, his face turned to watch her.
"You are amazingly beautiful," he told her when she was becoming uncomfortable with his stare.
He stood up and removed his robe, hanging it on a peg next to the door.
He felt her looking him over.
He was in good shape, and felt proud of his body. He was nicely muscled.
He held his hand out, indicating that she should hand over her robe.
"You'll be very uncomfortable in that robe," he told her.
"Don't worry, it's very normal. Here, take this towel and cover yourself, if you're embarrassed."
He made no effort to look away as she pulled the robe off.
She took her time, teasing him, giving him a show.
Being a decisive man, he went to her, approaching quickly, and pulled her body to his.
She was hot and sweaty, as was he.
He held her head in his hands and kissed her, preventing her from backing away.
Not that she did.
Within seconds he was parting her labial lips and entering her.
She was as hot as he, and they made passionate love on the hot planks of the sauna room.
He came too quickly, and was full of apologies.
"Don't worry about it," she told him. "You can satisfy me with your mouth."
He looked at her, not believing he'd heard her properly.
She lay back with her knees raised, her legs spread.
"Kiss me, Boss. Kiss me right here, and kiss me now!"
He wasn't a great fan of cunnilingus, one thing that made Jessica angry.
But how could he resist this?
Her cunt was delicately shaded from white through several degrees of pink to deep red.
It was lightly haired with strawberry colored pubes.
She opened herself with her fingers, egging him on.
He fell upon her like a starving wolf.
Tongue and fingers probed.
Teeth nibbled. Lips kissed and sucked.
Soon she was bucking like a rodeo bronco, he hanging on to her legs and continuing to stimulate her as best he could.
She screamed out as her orgasm finally rolled through her body.
She pulled Jason up to her and kissed him greedily.
They swam in a cold pool, then dressed and went out to dinner.
She was a changed person - suddenly a woman, not a girl with him any more.
"Before I take you home," he said when they'd finished eating, "Can I ask you a favor?"
"What is it?"
"I'd like to fuck you in the office. On Jessica's desk."
She giggled. "Oh boy! You are a bad boy!'
"And you'll be my bad girl?"
She gave him a speculative look. It took her a while to answer. "What would she say about that?"
"Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn!"
She took a deep breath.
"All right." She whispered it against his ear. "I'll fuck you while you fuck your wife, if that makes you happy."
He shook his head.
"No, You and I will be fucking, but for my wife, it's just business. Just business."
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